The famous, true and historicall life of Robert second Duke of Normandy, surnamed for his monstrous birth and behauiour, Robin the Diuell VVherein is contained his dissolute life in his youth, his deuout reconcilement and vertues in his age: interlaced with many straunge and miraculous aduentures. VVherein are both causes of profite, and manie conceits of pleasure. By T.L. G.

The famous, true, and historicall life of Robert, second Duke of Normandie.

IN the populous and plen∣tifull Dukedome of Normandie, (in times past called Neustria) at such time as Pepin the Father of the great King Charlemaigne gouer∣ned the flourishing Kingdome of Fraunce, Aubert the first Duke of that Countrey, by some supposed to be Ron of Denmarke, began to signorize in the same about the yeare of our Lord 750. a Prince by nature affable, in nur∣ture fortunate, as glorious for his Conquests, as gratious in his curtesies, enterprising his attempts with Metellus con∣stancie, and finishing the same with Alexanders fortune: who being in yeares youthfull, in person comlie, in discourse plea∣sant, in ritches mightie, was sought vnto by diuers Princ••s, who intended by inserting him into their linage, the better to assure themselues in their liuelyhoodes. Among the rest, the worthie Duke of Burgundie wrought so earnestly, and per∣swaded so effectually, that Aubert at last accepted his faire sister Y••da or Editha for his wife, a Princesse in whome na∣ture planted as much excellence, as amiablenesse, tempering the gifts of fortune and y^• mind with such equabilitie, that her goods seemed great in respect of her goodnes, and her goodnes more great, in that she had goods: for as the mightie inun∣datiōns

of Nilus make the riuer more famous, so abilitie vni∣ted with bountie, and a liberall hand with a mercifull hart, do greatly assist in causes of honor. These two princely cooples ordained by desteny to high desasters, though their affluence of riches promised them felicitie, yet the influence of the hea∣uens intimated their aduersitie; for hauing great signories to bequeath, they had no heires to enioy, accompting this for their only crosse, that they were without children: many were their vowes, but to no auayle; many their prayers, but to little purpose; if phisick might haue made fruitfull, Editha had been a Mother; if great summs could haue purchast yong sonnes, Aubert had been a Father. Seuen yeares and more liued they in this sort, the one carelesse of loues delight, the other comfortlesse in that she was barraine, till on a prefixed Saterday, when Nature had powred all her treasures on the earth, Flora powdered all the medowes with flowres, when the louesick Zephirus softly breathed, and the tender leaues sweetly bowed, when the sunne played with the waue, & the waue dallyed with the sunne, both enioying an equal simpathy of solace, Duke Aubert (who from his youth vpwarde was meruailously delighted in y^e chase) accompanyed with his faire Duchesse, departed out of his Capitall Citie of Roan, to take his pastance in the Forrest. Editha (by deuine ordinance) was that day attired, as if she intended to wooe Lucina to graunt a Sonne, and winne the Norman Duke to get a Sonne. Her hayre, in stead of gould to grace it, was goul∣den exceeding gould, more finer than the thrid wherewith Arachne wrought her loombe, more softer than the bed of Roses, wherein y^e Morning playd with Cephalus. Bound it was after a carelesse manner, as if disdayning that so rare beauties should be imprisoned, but pleyted in such sort, as if Nature should make a laborinth for Loue, Loue could not wish a sweeter laborinth. Midst euery pleight were certayne spheares of Pearles and Diamonds, which with the excel∣lencie of their purenesse, gaue no little grace to her hayres perfection: her browes not so hard as Iuorie, but more whi∣ter,

intermedled with some delicate vermilion, her eyes in puritie like the Carbunckle, lightning y^• darkest thoughts in effect like the Leadstone, drawing the most indurate harts, concluding all passions in themselues, in that they were the rootes of passions: her cheekes like two orbes of rubies par∣ticipating the whitenes of the Lillie, her lips resembling the Roses, being limits of more wonder than either toong can ex∣presse, or eye behold. Oh how may men that surfet in con∣ceit, expresse in pen! Suppose the attire answerable to the person, the person excéeding report, and in a word imagine Auberts happines, who might behold so faire, and enioy so faire, and looking on the outward perfections, boldly auer ••his:

Quae latent meliora puto.

In this sort both these Princes rode together, till such time as their traine had rowsed a mightie Hart, and vncoopled their howndes, when each one intentiuely followed the game, inforcing himselfe either to shewe his good horsemanship, or woodmanship, the rocks resounded with the cryes, the woods ecchoed at their clamours. In this sort spent they the mor∣ning, till about Noonesteede, when the Sunne was in the South, at that time shining in his greatest mightines, Au∣bert being attainted with heate, entered the thickest of the wood, hoping to obtaine some cold shelter, where he might rest himselfe for a while, and rid himselfe of his wearynes. But the further he walked, the more was his wonder, for ••n euery side Nature had been so prodigall of hir power, that the eye could not behold too much, nor the thought imagin so much. Heere saw he a faire delicious brooke, recording mu∣sick in his course, being christall in cleerenes, enuironed with faire Ceders so orderly aranged, as Arte could not in more excellence exemplifie the effects of perfection. On that side a closed Arbor beawtifyed with Roses, paued with Uiolets, on the top whereof, the byrds with melodious musick anima∣ted the flowres, and the flowres assisted by the Westerne

coole wyndes, seemed to daunce for delight, and to florish. Heere within for the selfe same occasion of refection, Edi∣tha had withdrawne her selfe, who in her solitarinesse, be∣thinking her selfe of her fortunes, her decaying beawtie, her detested barrainnesse, the lost labor of her husband, the last limmit of her happinesse, her imperfection the period of hys pleasure, hys pensiuenesse the onely fruite of her imperfection, in these tearmes bitterly bemoned her selfe, whilst Aubert little suspecting her presence, yet willing to heare the sequell of her feminine complaint, closely shrow∣ded himselfe neere the Arbor, whilst in this sort she despe∣ratly complayned. O Nature, too naturall vnto same, but too negligent on my behalfe, who yeelding the basest tree his blossome, the tallest pine his apple, the weakest stalke his flowre, the wasted fielde his spring, hast bequea∣thed increase to all things, and bereaued me of increase: thou hast made mee faire, but vnfortunate, a Princesse, but im∣pregnant, making me in desire as ritch as any, in defect as wretched as the most. Oh, hadst thou been as fauourable to mee as to the Lionesse, in bequeathing me one princely sonne, I might then haue exclaimed on Destenie, if I had lost him, and not haue disclaimed delight, in that I euer lack him. But thou art like the veruen (Nature) poyson one wayes, and pleasure an other, feeding me with grapes in shewe lyke to Darius Uine, but not in substance, lyke those of Vermandois. Thou art a partiall mistresse, pleased in thy secrecie, peremptorie in thy seueritie. But why blame I Nature, and accuse not Fortune? she is the mi∣stresse of tyme, and the minister of tiranny, supplanting Nature in some things, and desert in all things. But why blame I Fortune, who is only actiue in ••utabilities of e∣state, not in hidden causes of Nature. You are they (O Destenies) whome neyther teares may attaint, prayers perswade, vowes preuent, or sighes prouoke: you haue made Nature a stepdame, ordayned Fortune my foe, and by your secret influence, haue preuented my desired fauours.

Alas poore vnhappie Ladie, borne to neglect, be witched with necessities, why liue I to bée a byword of the world for my b••••rainesse? O my Soule, were Death as partiall, as thou impatient, he could not be so forward to destroy, as thou to dye. In this sort with many bitter sighes, she ab∣ruptlie finished, washing her louely visage with luke warme teares, beating her amiable breasts with bitter strokes, till finally shee burst out into this finall outrage. Well you heauens, since you neglect me, I respect you not, if God vouchsafe me no some, the Deuill send me one, so though my woomb be wretched in beating, yet happely I shall es∣cape the scandale of vnfruitfulnes.

Aubert not able to endure any longer to heare her la∣ment, brake off her impious discourse by his vnexpected presence, where beholding his beloued Editha hathed in teares, subdued with sighes, and blushing for that she was bewrayed, he thus began to comfort••••••.

Ah my Editha, the Creature must not warre with the Creator, nor expostulate vnkindnesse with God, who be∣stoweth mercies for good deserts, and miseries for neglect of duetie, he is not tyed to our will, but we ordered by his power, sooner fauouring those by whome hee is feared, than such who would force Destenie, which will not be de∣frauded. What though my Princesse thou art Childlesse, yet art thou not comfortlesse? What though as yet dispossessed of a Sonne, yet not disappointed of thy hope? The Trees that are longest in growth, are fastest in roote, where as Flowres haue but their morning's flourish, and their eue∣nings funerall. Thou art yet yong, and meete for increase, faire and fit for fancie, ordained before thou be a Matron, to become a Mother. Frullick Editha, me thincks I see a Babe sucking at these breastes, an Infant dallying in this bosome, and a Sonne, who shall pay thée with as many smiles, as thou hast been pained with millions of sighes: so saying, he sweetlie embraced her, and finding a fit oportunitie wherein both he and she might communicate their

fancies, he dried vp the tears from her eyes with his kisses, and foulding his armes about her necke, left such a pledge with her of her most desired pleasure, that as the most Histo∣riographers auerre, hee in that place begat her with childe, After many their delicious encounteries, and interchaunge of affections, they both of them arose and went to horse, and were no sooner issued frō the thicket, but they met with their whole traine, who presented the Duke and Dutches with the pray they had taken, which kind couple in returning homewards with priuie smiles discouered their pleasant pastimes. The Duke reioycing to see his Princesses merrie, Editha ioyfull in that she hoped to be a mother.

How Aubert by the commaundement of Pepin King of Fraunce, was vpon his returne sent to warre in the ayde of the Loraynes against the Vermandois, and how at his returne from the warre, Robert his sonne was borne, who for his villanies was surnamed the Diuell.

NO sooner was Aubert returned to his Court, but cer∣taine messengers saluted him with letters of credence from King Pepin, crauing his ayde in the behalfe of the Loraynes against the Vermandoies. The noble Duke be∣ing naturally inclined to famous exploites, not effeminate pleasures, reioyced at this occasion, and taking kinde leaue of his Dutchesse, he leuied his men at armes, marching by long iornies so speedilie, till at last he arriued where both the bat∣tailes were pitched in fight of one another, his present assis∣tance encreased the hope of the Loraynes, and ruinated the hearts of the Vermandoies, who that night dislodged them∣selues in secret, seeking all occasions of delay, whereby they might either weaken their enemie, or strengthen their armie. Fiue moneths and more dallied they the time with light skir∣mishes, wherein Fortune now smiled on the one part, now laughed on the other, but Aubert who detested delaies, and by their protraction suspected their policie, so incessantly in∣censed

the armie of the Loraynes, that finally they disolued ei∣ther to decide the controuersie in fight, or die in the enterprise: so that following y^• Vermandoies in to what place soeuer they withdrewe themselues, at last they inclosed the Eneme in a faire plaine encompassed with high hills, where was neither hope of flight nor expectation of delay, whereupon both the aduersarie hoasts vpon a prefixed day encountered, where the Loraynes had the victorie, losing onely sixe hundred men in the battaile, and the Vermandoies, beside those that were taken prisoners, lost the flower of their Nobilitie, beside nine thou∣sand Commoners who fell in that fight. But Auberts cou∣rage was of no small expectation in this encounterie, for with his owne hand he slewe the Generall on the aduerse partie, and renting the Colours from the staffe, trampled it vnder the feete of his horse in contempt of his maligners. The Loraines in this sort being Lords, after they had raunsomed their pri∣soners, and concluded their peace, returned to their countries, and Aubert no lesse inriched than honoured, returned to his Citie of Roan, where discharging his traine of Souldiers, hée intended his accustomed pleasures.

But Editha during the absente of her husband, was so for∣tunate and fruitfull after their last intercourse; that she increa∣sed daylie, and at last the quickning babe in her wombe, depri∣ued her of all her wonted suspect: but at such time as y^• Duke was returned, and the appoynted time of her deliuerie expec∣ted, the heauens intimating some prodigious sequell, were af∣flicted with continuall thunders; the earth shooke as if amazed at Nature, the lightnings flashed with great furie, and midst all these Commotions Editha was brought a bed of a sonne, who by his fathers ordinance was in great pompe carried to the Church of S. Owens in Roan, and christened by the name of Robert. This infant in his swathing cloutes, gaue certaine testimonie of his future outrages, for being borne beyond the custome of nature with all his teeth, according to the opinion of the Historiographers, was inchaunted, for in stead of drawing nutriment from his Nurse, hee bit off her

nipples, and being kissed in the cradle by the Ladie of Sanser∣res, hee bit off her nose: in his foode he was rauenous; in his fashions & behauiour rigorous; in stead of his infantly cries, vsed seuere smiles, planting in his parents more occasion of suspition, than ca••se of hope. At seauen yeares of age his mo∣ther diligently intending his amendes, sought out a man of good life and great learning, who might instruct him in the feare of GOD, and resolue him in the secrets of Arts, she ac∣companied him with his equalles in birth, his companions in studie, leauing no meanes vnsought to reclaime him, nor per∣swasions vnapplied to reforme him: but as the Oke sooner breaketh than boweth, and the Sallowe being bowed in the twig is crooked in the tree: so Robert by nature inclined to vice, coulde in no wise bee induced by aduice; hee was in wit pregnant, but applied the same to loosenes, reioycing as much at diuelishnes as other in their doctrine; in reading the Poets he despised the precepts of worth, and delighted in the poems of wantounes; hee was eloquent, but in impietie; diligent, but in mischiefe, hauing nothing in more estimate than mur∣ther, flying nothing more earnestly than modestie: and in re∣gard of this his intemperance, it was by some supposed that his mother at such time as he was begotten, was inchaunted; each one seeing his inclination fled him as a Serpent, his e∣quals he banished from him with buffetings, his elders with reuilings, hauing neither feare of God nor regarde of godli∣nes. If his mother went to see his wretchednesse, he became more wicked: if Aubert sought to reconcile him with good counsailes, he laboures the more to defile himselfe with larce∣nies and cruelties, yea such and so many were his mischiefes, that it was wondered at, y^• the earth did not sink vnder him in respect of his vngratiousnesse, no one of his fellowes escaped from him vnwounded. Hearing his Tutor one day discour∣sing vpon the nature of C••euta, he gaue diligent attention to his doctrine, and finding out the simple, he prepared the same according as hee was instructed, and presented it to his ma∣sters sonne a childe of rare towardnesse, who no sooner tasted

thereof, but with vehement and bitter agonies gaue vp the ghost: the father wonderfully astonished at this action, and inquiring the cause of him with many pitifull bemouings, he receaued this answer.

Master (sayd he) I haue but put in practise that which you haue taught me in precept, and since I find you a man of such credite, I will boldly write vnder your lesson probatum est: he was naturally inclined to intort all good principles of Philo∣sophy, and to apply the earnest secrets of antiquitie to notable insolencie; hee dissembled most holines when hee was irreli∣gious, supposing it vertue to inuent sinne, and shame to be ig∣norant in sinne: his prouident Tutor knowing (as the Pro∣uerbe runneth) the Tree by his fruite, the Lyon by his naile, and the Crocadile by his teare, knowing by daylie experience that too much impunitie is the cause of too much impietie, that it is easier to stop the riuer in the spring, than withstand it in the streame, that the Lyon restrayned being a whelpe, is trac∣table in his greatest yeares; that Custome was a meane, if not to subdue, yet to alter Nature, thought good by crueltie to correct that, which by le••••••ie hee could not confound: for which cause seeing that gentle admonition preuailed nothing, he exchanged his strict perswasions to sterne lookes, his sound rudiments to sharp rigor, hoping to recouer that by displing, which he could not reforme by discipline. But as their labour is frustrate who seeke to bring Cancasus into a plaine, to be∣reaue India of gems, Candia of oyles, Cochim of pepper, or Hibla of honey; so where the vnreformable worke of Na∣ture is grounded in peremptorie wickednesse, it is impossible either to destroy or disanull the effects thereof, according to the opinion of the Poet:

Naturam expellas furca licet vs{que} recurrit.

For, giuing him ordinarie correction at one time for an erro∣nious offence which he had committed, in stead of submission and acknowledgement of his misdéedes, he intentiuely im∣ployed himselfe to murther, and finding his Maister one day asléepe, he priuily tooke his penknife and cut his throate,

smilingly concluding his impietie in this sort.

Ille mihi feriendus aper.

But as they that paint the Image of Venus shadowe her excellence, by depicturing her backe parts, pretending either a secret insinuation of their owne admiration, or her mighti∣nes; so in laying these loose colours of Robins misgouer∣nance, I rather inforce wounder in my selfe to write them, than credite with those that shall reade them, who conuersing and daylie reading the Norman antiquaries, shall finde farre more of his youthly insolence, than is here set downe, euery way beyond beleefe, yet no way differing from the trueth.

How Duke Aubert and Editha called Robert their sonne to the Court, where by his mothers perswasion he was ad∣mitted to the Order of Knighthood.

THe rumour of the yong Princes outrages were no soo∣ner spred throughout the Court, but Aubert heauelie agréed at his sonnes misdeedes, and Editha becom∣ming wel••y desperate of his amends, with heauie hearts cal∣led the yong man to their presence, where the olde man shew∣ing the seueritie of a Prince in his lookes, but the sinceritie of a father in his laments, began in this manner to schoole his sonne, whilst Editha was wholly giuen ouer to sorrow. Un∣gracious and vngodly yong man (sayd he) who in thy cradle porteudest thy future indiscretion, and in the ripenes of thine age shewest the rashness of thy nature, that makest my title of signorie, thy priuiledge of sinne, and my lawe, the occasion of thy loosenes: Is this thy reward for thy mothers care? thy care for thy fathers comfort, to exempt thy selfe of all grace, to exemplifie in mee all griefe. Ahlas haples Prince that I am, reduced to al extreames, should I punish thee according to thy sinne, I should depriue my selfe of mine onely solace, and in not punishing thy murthers, I am as it were agent in thy massacres. Oh vaine youth, if thy studies were answe∣rable to thy estate, and thy wisedome equall to thy wit, thou

migh••st perceaue that thy desaster is the desolation of this E∣state, and the more my people hope of succession, so much they feare thy fatall confusion. The Cockatrice killed in the shell, quelleth not being a Serpent: the Tyger tamed bring a whelpe, teareth not being growne great; and were there hope to restraine thee beeing young, there were some better hope of regarde in thine age. But as Semyramis miracu∣lous birth, shewed her meruailous buriall; so thy vnreuerent behauiours in these yeares, are very Oracles of thy tyrannies in time to come, so that reason councelleth me rather to cut thee off in the twig, than indure thee in the tree. Oh cursed youth, I see by thy carelesse smiles, the contempt of my coun∣sailes, and woe bée to the time that I begat thee, since wilfull ignorance doth so much beguile thee: but stay thy hand, or loose thy head, trouble me no more with such complaints, least I cut thee short in thy complots; and since thou art negligent of my rudiments, assure thy selfe I will be vnnaturall in my reuenge. After he had expostulated with him in this manner, he sodainly departed, and entered his priuie Closet, where as he sat so amazed with griefe, and amated at his vngracious∣nesse, as had not Editha followed him, and with amiable per∣swasions, animated him with hope, he had surely in that exta∣sie miserably ended his old yeares. But Robert in stead of re∣penting his offences, began to renewe his follies, quarrelling with his fathers guard, in such maner, that euery man know∣ing his natural inclination, fled his companie as being a mon∣ster among men. If any graue olde man came néere him at∣tempting to counsaile him, after hee pretended some diligent attention for a while, he sodainly tooke out his knife, and cut of his beard: satisfying the partie wronged with this Ironicall reason:

Quae superflua sunt, abscindenda sunt.

Whilest in this manner he misgouerned himselfe among the Courtiers, Editha was not vnbusied in the Closet, but so laboured her husband by intreaties and teares, that (since Ro∣bert ••er sonne was about 21 yeares of age, and able to beare

armes) he at last cōsented to grant him the Order of Knight∣hood, alleaging these reasons, that honours are the spurres of vertue, and natures that are forward in wickednesse, by con∣uersing with the vertuous are reformed; nought left she vn∣sought that might insinuate; nothing vnreported that could perswade. To bee bréefe, the prefixed day of his Knighthood was appoynted, & his armes were deliuered him: the Nobles of the Countrie were assembled, the Ladies were orderly en∣uited: neither did Aubert spare any cost to shewe his magnifi∣cence, or Editha any counsailes to reforme Roberts mind, but calling him apart into her priuie Chamber, she began in this manner to aduise him.

If my secret complaints (thou sinfull yong man) had not more effect to mittigate the heauens, than to mooue thee, I would drie them vp and defie thee, but since they are pitious and respect prayers, I will weepe for thee to winne them to thee, in hope they will be as fauourable in mercie, as I am for∣ward in moane: Oh more obstinate than the Northern wind, more indurate than y^• hard Marble, more cruell than y^• Libian Lyonesse, more peruerse than y^• Lidian tyrant; thou hast open eares to conceaue mischiefe, but a dull heart to consider of mo∣destie, I see thy repyning lookes, thy reprouable leudnes, thou despisest to heare my prayers, or harbor my precepts. Ah Ro∣bin, hath the care of obedience no force, the credite of a mother no fauour, or art thou proude to see me wofull, or pleased to seeke out my wretchednesse? Thou knowest that by nature thou art néere me, that thy follie is my fall, thy vaine deedes, my very vndoing: if then thou haue care of my life, yéeld some respect vnto my lessons; thou art now stept in yeares, & hast iudgement to discerne errors, now call thy selfe home, and re∣cord thine olde wickednesse, amende thy life, meditate on thy loosenes, cast a reyne on thy nature, conceit the reason of nurture, better is a meane life in vertue, than an high estate in vice: Hast thou offended in thy youth? the misdeede is or∣dinarie: Wilt thou amend in age? oh the action is honorable: I coniure thee my sonne by these deuout teares, by these de∣uote

intreates, by the name of thy mother, by the necessitie of obedience, to exchange thy excesse to mediocritie; thy murther to modestie; thy vntowardnesse to staiednesse, and prepare thy selfe to accept the Order of Knighthood which thy father will bestowe on thee on to morrowe day, being the feast of the na∣tiuitie of S. Iohn Baptist, for armes I will furnish thee, for attendants I will send them thee, onely prepare thy selfe pre∣sently to watch in the Abbey of S. Peters, (at this day called S. Owens in Roan) and bethinke thée so re behaue thy selfe, that thy father may haue comfort and I content.

Robert by some naturall instinct being attainted by these feminine complaints, and friendly perswasions, seemed in some sort to relent, and suffered his mother to arme him, and with some attendants departed to the Abbey to performe his vigill. But when all were departed, and he left alone, and Lu∣cina cléerelie smiling on the candles of the night, gan beautifie with her sparkling brightnesse the diffused darkenesse of the Center, Robert more vigilant in vilanie, than valiant in ver∣tue, sodainly issued out of the Church, and secretly stealing in∣to the Suburbes, trauailed a whole league into the fields, sée∣king some subiect whereon to execute his pretēded iniurie: at last he arriued at a Nunnerie distant one league from Roan, at this day called Le salle de damoiselles, where he entered, and calling the Lady Abbesse before him, he commanded and con∣iured her in such sort by threatnings, that she brought all her yong Nunnes before him, and those that were bed ridden hée made them bee brought, then immodestly stripping them na∣ked, he made choyce of the fairest, a virgin of mightie constan∣cie, who being wholy addicted to Chastitie, and seeing his na∣turall churlishnesse, by all meanes possible sought to diuert that by humble suite, which he had contriued to effect in hor∣rible secrecie: But hée whose heart was rather hardened than mollified by perswasions, in steade of tendering her complayntes toare off her attyre, and dragged her by the heare of the head into a shady Wood néere adioyning. It would haue made a flintie hart to flow with teares to see

the miserable mayden, hee comely locks shadowing her naked limmes, how lifting vp her delicate hands to the heauens, and powring foorth delicious teares on her beating bosome, she implored helpe, she complayned her harmes, how she resisted euen in conquest, & séemed loth to suffer that she must néedly suffer. But the cruell caitiffe, carelesse of God, forgetfull of goodnes, giuen ouer to sinne, made subiect to shame, neyther moued by intreaties, nor allured to truce, wretchedly de∣flowred her, and hearing how incessantly she called for mer∣cie at his hands, and expostulated for reuenge with the hea∣uens, he cut off both her papps, through the agonie whereof, the gentle religious Lady gaue vp the ghost.

The bloudsucking wretch hauing in this sort satisfied his lewd lu••t, embrued in the purple drops of the murthered La∣dy, hastely returned to the Citie, imploying all his labours and studie, how to inuent new lamentable stratagems: no sooner did the mornings roseate coatch beawtifie the East with vermelion rednesse, and the faire breathing Steeds of the Sunne mount aboue the bosome of Oceanus, but each noble peere apparrailed in ritch attire, his horsse trapped with costly caparisons, attended before the Pallace gate, till the Duke shuld issue to seruice, great was the solemnitie that day throughout the Citie. The Ladyes were glorious in their attires, the louers gorgeous in their trayne, there wan∣ted nothing that might delight the eye, or content the eare. Among the rest, Robert by his Mothers appointmēt was ar∣med, & ritchly apparrayled anew, & after his Father, with the rest of his Nobilitie, had heard Masse in the Minster, by gene∣rall appointment he was sent for by the best Nobles of the land, who certifying him of his Fathers pleasure, and how he attended his comming, he answered, that he was a hungry, and wanted his breakfast, & that he would not loose the same for tenne of the best Knightwoods in all Normandy. Long trauaile, and much perswasion vsed these princely Nobles to perswade him thence, till at last bringing him into the pre∣sence of his Father, he had with all solemnitie the accolade,

and was commanded to knéele downe to receiue the order of Knighthoode, at such time as his Father lifted vp the sword to performe the rest of the Ceremonie, he ioyfully rose vp, and drew his weapons, and had not some more aduised stayed his hand, he had assuredly flayne his Father. I certaine noble man offering the Spurre, he answered him ridiculously in this sort.

Non sum t••ntus cessator vt calcaribus indigeam.

In these vndecent and disorderly de••••tanors, this vnhappy yong man spent the florishing time of his yeares, hauing ney∣ther regard of person, nor respect of place. At the Triumph, his desire was rather to driue his horse into the throng, where∣by he might tread men downe, than breake his launce against his aduersarie in the open liftes, such is y^• corruption of mans nature without the especiall assistance of the almighty. But least through tediousnesse I detayne you in reporting his Fa∣thers perswasions, his Mothers precepts, the Nobles coun∣sayles, the Ladyes curtesies, I will heare leaue off to speake of the Triumphs, returning to speake of his manner of life, after he had receiued the honor of Knighthoode.

How Robert the Deuil tooke the strong Castel of Turnigue which his Father had builded in defence of his estate, and of certayne of his riots he made against some of the inhabitants of the Countrey.

THe strong Castell of Tornid••, (that very Turnigue that flourisheth at this day) not only for the serenitie of the aire, and the amenitie of the countrey: among all the especiall houlds of Normandy as held in most accompt, but also is best defenced. This strong Castell and Fort was first builded by Aubert against the inuasions of the Brittons, where he reposed his greatest warlike prouitions, and the most part of his Treasurie, and was afterward ceased vpon by this vn∣happy Robert his sonne, who gathering together the most part of all the dissolute persons of the countrey, kept this

strong place for many yeares, spoyling the inhabitants round about, burning their houses, rauishing their wiues, and com∣mitting such murthers, as it was imagined, that Nature had ordayned him and his wicked crew, for the only monsters of his time: and as a little brooke assisted by land waters, and low grounded, extendeth it selfe at last to a huge Riuer, so this riotous company at the first excéeding not the number of 30. grew at last to a multitude of murtherers, theeues, pa∣tricides, & fratricides, so that he who had committed any ca∣pitall offence in the countrey, inserted himselfe into the num∣ber of Roberts followers, who becomming about 4000. strong, made all the neighbours round about them amazed at their mischiefes: neither had they regard of age, or reli∣gion, or respect of nation or alliaunce, but what so best plea∣sed their appetite, or most appeased their auarice, all that was sacred in their censure, and lawfull in their lewdnesse. Many were the cries of haplesse Mothers, whose babes were mur∣thered in their bosomes: many the teares of tender Dam∣sailes, inforced in their floure of youth: many the poore, whose small possessions were rauished by the iniuries of the migh∣tie, whilst Robert sitting aloft as the head of Confusion, su••∣fetting in his excesse, accompted riot for righteousnesse, his dronkards for his diuines, his murtherers for his mates, his blasphemers for his boord companions. Oh the horror and confusion of those times, where iniquitie was held for equi∣tie, and diuelishnes accompted desert. In religious houses this Deuill of a man, and diuelish man, in stead of reueren∣cing the learned, rid them of their liues; for at Ambois he entered a Monastery of Minorites, and cutting off the fat∣test Friers heads, he pitched them vpon powles, causing the veriest knaue to carrie the crosse, and the rest apparrelled in Coapes, to tune a diuelish Dirge of impietie. From others he tooke away by violence their ritches, saying as Iulian the Apostata did after him, that ritches did hinder them from the enterance into the Kingdome of Heauen. Those of his trayne who were most tirannous, he most highly rewarded, and such

as did sweare most, might spend most. Great were the cla∣mours of the poore, the cryes of the oppressed, the complaints of the fatherlesse, the wéepings of the widdowes, the father for his child, the child for his father, the mother for her sonne, the sonne for his mother.

Nec quicquam nisi vulnus ••rat, cruor vndi{que} manat.

In an Abbey néere to Lisseux he entered and slew all the Monks, in that they would not shew their treasures, and fin∣ding foure Pilgrimes knéeling at a Crosse, he cut off their heads, saying, they could neuer dye in better mindes. Mee∣ting with the Bishop of Caen ritchly mounted vpon a Moyle, attired in his ri••chest furniture, he dismounted him, saying, he reserued that beast to a better vse than that a beast should bestride it. Such and so many were his vnworthy attempts, without all expectation of amendment.

Of the horrible murther which Robert the Deuill com∣mitted vppon the Lord of Beaumount.

There dwelled at that time, wherein Robin sur∣named the Deuill accustomed to exercise these his detestable iniuries, a noble Norman Gentle∣man, surnamed for his fayre Castell sake the Lorde of Beaumount, neere to Turingue. This Gentleman had taken to Wife the daughter of the Countie Gourdon, a Gentle woman of inestimable beawtie, who after her espousals, being conducted with great solem∣nitie to her husbands Castell, was by Robins espialls sur∣prised in the way, and being bound both her selfe and her husband, was brought to the haplesse mansion of this wret∣ched murtherer, where the disordinate tyrant beholding the beawtie of the Ladie, her yong yeares, her faire face, he first imprisoned her husband in the dungeon of the Castell, and burning in disordinate desire, sought all meanes possible to perswade her vnto lewdnes: but she neyther respecting life, or expecting libertie, and carelesse of her harmes, in regard

of her honor, in stead of dalliance, accused him of diuelish∣nes, and tempering her sweete lookes with a blushing seue∣ritie, she reproued him in this sort.

Whereat aimest thou so much thou vngracious tirant? if to bereaue me of mine honour, thou art impious: if to rid me of my life, I am pleased: for one of these extreames must I expect of one so insolent. The Crane and Rite agree not, and yet Birds: the Swordfish, and Whale, are at enmitie, and yet Fishes: Saturne, and Venus, accord not, and yet Planets: neyther may the vicious agree with the vertuous, although both be reasonable creatures. Oh Prince, I detest thy course, I lament thy inconstancie, to see the hope of Nor∣mandy, the ruine of Normandy: if libertie haue so great pre∣rogatiue with thee, to murther at thy pleasure, to rauish as thou likest, go rid thy Father of his right, who may better suffer, in that he brought vp such a plague, and leaue vs poore innocents, who deserue no punishment. My Lord and I are coupled by loue, counited by vertue, allyed by holie Matri∣monie, and wilt thou seuer those whome God hath coupled? no cruell man, though thou presume to separate bodies, thou hast no portion of our Soules: though thou tyrannize ouer our liues, thou art no maister of our loues: come, practise thy crueltie: I see thine eyes swolne with sensualitie: I see thy hands trembling to attempt: I marke each lineament of na∣ture, combating in it selfe, till thou hast exercised thy tirannie: but flay not, if I must be exe••utiate, marti•• me: if thou wilt surfet on blood, glut thy selfe, for my body (vngratious man) whilst these hands serue to wraffle, and limmes vouchsafe to resist thee, thou shalt not defile it; and if inhumanitie ex∣ceedes so farre in thee, as thou intendest lust to the vtte∣raunce, assure thy selfe, my incessant complaints shall so sol∣licite the heauens, that sooner shall they dissolue to nothing, before I differre to cursse thee. But (partiall and peruerse young Prince) this maketh thine iniustice more manifest, in that thou punishest my husband, who haue deserued no daunger, and differrest to reuenge thee on her, whose too

fayre lookes haue bereft thee of thy senses: oh suffer him to depart in peace, and detaine me in pe••urie: let not the in∣nocent he helde for nocent, nor such as haue not wronged thee, suffer wrong by thee: Lo, I assist this last prayer with pittifull teares, thys humble suite with bitter sighes: oh be thou pliant in this, though peremptorie in all other things.

These her lamentations accompanyed she with such ma∣uing passions, as if her soule intended whatsoeuer her bo∣die had ena••••ed, and lyke a weake Champion, entering the Listes with a cruell warriour, seemeth forward to re∣sist, though feeble to reuenge: so this noble daughter of the Countie Gourdon, though she sawe no meanes to ouer∣presse her enemye, yet in what she might, she indeuoured to resist him, but Robert lyke an vnmeasurable rock, groun∣ded in the Ocean with inremouable power, resisted all the showers of her teares, and stormes of her sighes, seeming rather more seueare after her complaints, than before he was resolute; and calling her husband, in the presence of his new espoused Bride (who beeing bound, could no wayes assist hym but with her couragious comforts) hee caused his limmes peecemeale to bee chopped off, and twixt euery torment, continually laboured eyther to per∣swade the Ladie to loue, or her husband to commaund her to lust. But the young Gentleman feeling the torments insufferable, and fearing his toongs default, bit off the same, depriuing the cruell rauisher the meanes of further hope, and his Wife occasion of hazarding her honour. Which when the tyrannous Prince perceyued, he increa∣sed his cruelties: in midst of which extremitie fayre Emine (for so was the Ladie called) cryed out in this sort to her husband: Ah Beomond, the Conquest is welny finished, and ••••••sing thy lyfe, thou hast purchased thy immorta∣litie. Be bolde noble young man, the deuine spirit shall florish, when this earthy drosse shall vanish: and though wee are separated on earth, we shall be vnited in the hea∣uen.

Oh condigne merit of thine? oh kinde token of thy loue? thou hast supplyed my weakenesse by thy constan∣cie, and hauing attayned the goale of griefe, thou art euen now entering the gates of glory. Oh blessed Soule, if de∣uine eyes may brooke impieties, stay and behold my stay∣ednesse; whose tormentes, were they farre more then my Beamonds, can be nothing, so I preserue my selfe inuiolate. Robert like an inraged Lion, giuen ouer to rage and mur∣ther, hauing shortned the dayes of the husband, began now to attempt the wife, and whilst his cursed crew animated and egged him on, seeing no meanes possible to accom∣plish his loose and vnbridled lust, he sheathed his sword in her entralls, who mildly giuing vp the ghost, suffered her death with more then manly courage.

How Aubert vnderstanding of the rebellious outrages of his sonne, after some messages, caused free pardon to be proclaimed for those who should depriue him of his life.

The noyse of these notorious cruelties were no sooner bruited in the eares of Aubert, but he picked out cer∣taine of his chosen Counsayle, and sent them vnto Turingue, commaunding them by kinde perswasions or polli∣cies to bring him to his presence, who so far foorth indeuored themselues on the way, thinking to accomplish their Princes commaund, that they arriued at the Castell, where after certaine counsailes debated on both parts, Robert vtterly de∣nied obeisance, saying, that his Father was but the shadow of gouernance, himselfe the substance, the one more fitter for his heades, than a battaile, himselfe as nimble at a lasse, as in the listes: he shewed them his treasuries stored with wealth, his vaults full of wynes, his ••alles full of cutthroates, his cham∣bers full of concubines, and in stead of rewards which are bestowed on the messengers of Princes, he gaue each of them a halter, swearing vnto them, that whosoeuer hereafter durst come and trouble him from the do••ard his father should die the

death. With this vngodly answere and grosse intertainment, the messengers returned to Aubert, who hauing the gates of his pallace pestered with the troopes of such as were iniured, cast off the wonted semblance of a deare father, and presented himselfe like a seuere Iudge, causing it to be proclaimed tho∣rowout his Dominions, that whosoeuer could bring him the head of Robert his sonne, should haue pardon for the déede, and a rewarde for his labour. But see the constant hearts of faithfull subiects, they rather endured domage, than sought his death; rather supplied his lackes, than sought his life: It was lamentable to behold how the Princes Court was ex∣changed to the Pallace of care; how in stead of recreation, he sought desolation, loathing his life, longing for death: Edi∣tha like the picture of dispaire, closed her selfe in her Chamber, nought was heard but moane in stead of melodie, sorrowe in lieu of sollace, complaint in place of pompe: but with haples Robert it fared farre otherwise, for no sooner heard he of his fathers decrée, but he animated his ministers to more malice; in stead of quailing, he fell to quaffing; of dread, he followed delight, leauing no meanes vnattempted whereby he might glorie in his vngodlines, there was no free passage to any ci∣tie, the Merchants were beaten and their goods taken from them, the Market wiues spoyled, and their victualls bereft them, so that this flourishing Dukedome seemed almost de∣cayed. Among the rest, a braue Courtier, sonne to the Duke of Constances, hauing a merucilous delight in the Chace, was ordinarily accustomed to sport himselfe in the Woods néere adioyning the Castle of Turingue, and one vnfortunate day it was wherein it befell y^• he was busily following his game, at such time as Robin y^• Diuell with his crew of cutthrotes dis∣ported himselfe in that Forrest likewise, the cries of y^• hounds were heard on both sides, y^• games were interchangably folo∣wed, & by vnluckie misfortune it so fell out, y^• the Huntsmē on both parts fell at debate, and so long time fought it out, till both the Princes incountered one another in the hottest of the furie: Prince Robert being naturally harebraind, and careles

of equitie, seeing how some of his men were wounded, drewe his sword whilest the yong toward Gentleman on the other side rated his seruants, and humbly offered satisfaction for in∣iuries: but Robin in steade of requiting him with the like courtesie, cut his head from his shoulders, and mangling the same hung it about the necke of the chiefest Huntsman, and sent it as a present to his father; so returning with his fol∣lowers from out the Forrest, he entered his Castle, smiling pleasantly at his sinfull practise. The yong Princes seruants gathering vp the mangled members of their dead Master, layed them vppon his horse, and with many pitifull lamenta∣tions brought the same to their Duke and Master, who lay not farre thence at the Castle of Constances, who beholding that dreadfull spectacle, in stead of fatherly cries and fruitlesse complaints, hee hammered vppon reuenge, and arming him∣selfe at assaye, hee gathered together sower thousand men at armes the most approued and valiant of all his signiorie, and assembling them together before they were readie to march, he with stearne visage presented before their eyes the murthe∣red bodie of his onely sonne, and with a grauitie accompanied with remorse, he burst out into this vehement exhortation.

Behold here a spectacle my friends and fellowe Souldiers, a ruthfull spectacle for the father, a remorsefull despight of you my subiects, not enterprised by a stranger, who was pro∣uoked by iniurie, but attempted by our néere neighbour, who was rather honoured than harmed, and before GOD what greater wickednesse? what more impietie? If murther bée vnpunished among our selues; if those who should defend vs shall offend vs; if the priuiledge of a father shall outcounte∣nance all faith, why mistrust wee not one another? why mur∣ther wee not one another? why rob we not one another? If selfe same securitie awaight the disobedient as the obedient, let vs cast off this communitie, despise soueraigntie, where neither a man may be Lord of his owne goods, nor the father assured of his owne sonne, nor the subiect in safetie of his own life. Among the Persians robberie was repayed with death,

oh my vnhappie Countrie, here murther is wincked at with remission! In Lacedemon the Prince might be impleaded by lawe, but in Normandy we are spoiled by our Prince beyond lawe. But why stand I ripping vp the ruthfull discourse of many mischiefes? where this one iniurie sufficeth to incense vs, behold this haples yong mā ••laine in y^• prime of his yeres, murthered in the hart of his Countrie, flaine by the hand of Robert heire of Normandy, see how his bléeding wounds stirre vp reuenge, me thinkes I heare his groaning ghost ex∣clayming on me his father for reuenge, trying out vnto you my subiects for reuenge, whom I beséech as a father, & com∣maund as a Gouernour to take pitie of these old yeares, your owne Lord liues to partake this common iniurie with me. Me thinkes I see in your eyes some teares of remorse; but drie them vp my subiects, it is bloud that must requite bloud, and reuenge that must repay iniurie. If you leaue me in my attempt I will prosecute it; if you followe me and dye with me, you shewe your obedience, you shewe your courage, you shewe you loue, you shewe your loyaltie, you shall be déere to your Lord, who will dye for your safeties: let the resolute therefore sweare reuenge on their swords, wee haue Auberts warrant for our safetie, wee haue rewardes prefixed for our warfare, followe me therefore and let vs finde out the miscre∣ant who hath spoyled vs, and either dye or rid the worlde of this murtherer. After hee had discoursed in this manner, the whole assemblie swore to followe him to the death, so that each one of least expectation inforced himselfe to bee most for∣ward. The Duke caused the bodie of his sonne to bee borne out of sight, and entombed with a rich and sumptuous fune∣rall, and priuilie marching by night, he layd his mē in ambush in the Wood neere adioyning the Castle of Turingue, waigh∣ting the approach of the morning, at which time he assuredly hoped to asswage his displeasur••.

The bloodie and cruell battaile fought betweene the Duke of Constances and Robert the Diuell and his traine, and what thereupon insued.

As soone as the watchfull morning had opened her purple gates in the East, and discouered her pallaces full of Roses, and the Sunne adorned with a wreath of Chrisolites, began to shake his deawie lockes lately wash∣ed in the baine of Eurotas, Robin surnamed the Diuell called vp his companie of rakehels and commanded them to armes, where after they had glutted themselues with their mor∣nings refection••, they marched on with mightie showtings, astonishing the Woods with their cryes, which when the E∣spials of the Duke apperceaued, they gaue their Lord a se∣cret intelligence, and each one prepared himselfe to the fight. By this time had Robert with all his traine entered within the compasse of the Ambush, where sodainly the Duke of Constance commanded the allarum to bee sounded, and couch∣ing his speare ranne into the thickest of the enemie, seeking on euery side for the murtherer of his Sonne, if happelie hée might espie him. Prince Robert apperceauing the pretended treason, arranged his men, & entering y^• thickest throngs, that each one wondered at his prowesse: he was a man of tall sta∣ture, bigge boned, of a stearne and maiesticall countenance, of much forwardnesse and courage, and had his brutish nature béen answerable to his force and valour, assuredly he had béen a man of high accompt euen at that time. Fatall and bloodie was the fight on both sides, the one kindled by the iniurie they had receiued, the other combatting according to the prouerbe, Pro aris & focis: hope they had none of life but in their va∣liant resist, and that which encouraged them the more, was the valour and holdnesse of their Generall: which the Duke of Constance apperceauing, he gathered together thirtie of his most brauest Caualiers, & with them all at one time assa••led Prince Robert. It was now about euen tide, and the Princes

souldiers were either al of thē sore wasted or wounded, when the Duke by maine strength dismounted Robert, and gaue him a great and deepe gash in the thigh; the Catines that fol∣lowed him seeing the•• master distressed, desperatly sought his rescue, and were euery one of them put to the sword, onely Robert of himselfe recouered a horse, and so valiantly conti∣nued in his defence, till the darke night parted the Combat∣tants, and he found conuenient meanes to auoyd the danger; the Duke of Constances seeing the Enemie was hotly ouer∣come, and that it was impossible to followe the Prince, being most expert in the secret waies of the Wood, sounded the re∣treate, causing the dead bodies of his Souldiers to be buried, and sending Aubert worde of the bloodie victorie attained a∣gainst his sonne.

Thus in triumph leaue we him, reioycing mightilie in his reuenge, and resorting with sollace vnto his Castle; and re∣turne to Robert, who sore trauailed with his wounds, and hauing his horse tired, posted with all speede he could possible now this way now that way, searching for some place of secu∣ritie where he might hide himselfe from the enemie: but euill fortune pursuing him euery way, his horse at last tired vnder him, so that he was constrained to forsake his armes, and tru∣sting onely to his sword to walke through the Forrest on foot; many were his sighes, and bitter curses, many his exclama∣tions and complaints, whilest desolate Eccho the faithfull companion of such as be sorrowfull, vouchsafed some pitifull replie in his pensiuenes; but the great expence of blood, the long and wearie course of trauell, the cruell and daungerous pursute of his foes did not sufficiently amaze him, but to the more increase of his griefe, a hidden affliction of the minde be∣gan with such horror to attaine him, that he euery way grewe desperate. Oftentimes did he prepare himselfe to complaine, but knewe scarcely how to complaine, he felt himselfe mortall, and that he was a man, he examined the changes of fortune, and bethought him on the causes of his fall, neither knowing how to amend then they were so infinite, nor reconcile him∣selfe

he had béen so dissolute: and lifting vp his eyes to hea∣uen, he beheld the Moone performing her course, the Starres ministring their dueties, and by their celestiall beautie began with himselfe to imagine the beautie of their maker, then cal∣led he to remembrance the olde rudiments of his master, as touching the essence and power of God, the wonderfull work∣manship of the heauens, the beautifull order of the spheares, the strange creation of man, the influence of the celestiall bo∣dies in these inferiour parts, and considered that all thinges were made by a determinate and inuiolable lawe limitted by prescript of Nature, and that if in the earthly compact of man the imperfection and griefe of one member afflicted the whole compact, much more a contrarietie in the powers both of soule and bodie threatned a confusion: Then called he to mind, that since there was a Moouer which disposed & ordered al things, so in due ordinance of gouernment it was requisite too as hée prescribed rewards for good deserts, so he should also ordaine punishments for vice. Hereupon began he to meditate on the nature of sinne, the causes of sinne, and the effects of sinne, and him thought that a voyce sounded in his eare, the reward of sinne is death. Oh how great was the horror and confusion of his soule at this time, his burthen heauier than Aetna, his affliction more fiercer than may bee imagined, and sodainly a shower of teares burst from his eyes, his heart was inflamed, his thoughts troubled, and the eye of reason long time obscu∣red, at last began to break foorth with inestimable brightnesse, so that falling downe on his knees, and thumping his woun∣ded breast, he at last in bitter termes entered into this extasie. I wonder thou maker of heauen at thy workmanship, & thy worthines is knowne by thy workes, I see that thou art iust in dealings, and I desperate through my delayes, I haue had a portion with the chiefest creatures, but haue imployed it worse than bruite beasts. Oh how my soule groaneth within me, and my inward bowells are gréeued in my bodie. Lord thou hast made me, but I haue martered me; thou hast saued me, I haue shamed thee; thou hast elected me, I haue reiected

thee; mine impenitence hath wrought thy impatience: oh en∣ter not into the fulnes of my sinne, least I aduenture the furie of thy sword, the vale of heauinesse ouercladdeth me, the hope of heauenlinesse is clowded from me: Oh that the hils would fall vpon me, or that the depth might deuoure me: oh that I had neuer been borne, or had euer béen better. Lord it is iu∣stice, I merite condemnation, I deserue affliction and no fa∣uour, damnation & no preseruation, commination from thée, not combination with thee. Oh my soule groane for my sins, greeue at my shames. Oh happie were my soule if griefe could suffice: oh my soule, rent at thy vnrighteousnesse, melt at thy murther, or happie were my soule if remorse would suf∣fice; but my portion is in the graue, not among the iust; amōg the defiled ones, and not the reconciled ones; I am heauy my God; but why call I him mine, whom I haue blasphemed? I am sorie my God: as if sorrowe would satisfie the excesse of sinne? Oh, no I am vnworthie to behold heauen, to conceaue hope, to intreate mercie, to promise amends: but damnation, oh the bitter wound of damnation that threatneth me, that killeth me.

In these desperate and sorrowing tearmes spent hée the most part of the night, neither receauing sustenance, nor in∣ioying sleepe, his cléere complexion became pale, his strong limmes grewe lither, and hée that before time thought him∣selfe more woorthie than the King of heauen, now thought himselfe vnwoorthie to tread vppon the earth. By this time the memorie of his sinnes assayled him anewe, and a hidden working from aboue dispersed the clowdie passions of his thought, in such manner as wée sée a faire and pleasant breath of winde, which during the extreame heate of the Sunne, tempereth the furie of the same, in which manner I leaue him till the morning.

How a Hermit found Robin the Diuell sore wounded, and relieued him, confirming him in his repentance with his wonderfull perswasions, how he dealt with his followers, and his entended voyage to Roome.

The day gan no sooner to discouer, dimming the brightnesse of the Starres with a more radiant cléerenes, but an old Hermit who had sequestred himselfe from the world, after hee had sayd his morrowe Masse, walked abroad to take the aire, and as he trauailed through many beautifull paths, wherein he was accustomed in great deuotion to meditate: at last he arriued where Robert lay, altogether bathed in his bloud, and so ouercome with dispayre, that he continually languished till it pleased death to yeeld a finall period to his pensiuenes. The good old man seeing his personage comely, his apparell courtly, his wounds déepe, his daunger great, approached more néere him, and reuiuing him with fountaine water, which sprong very neere at hand, hée brought him into some remembraunce of himselfe: at last with much perswasion he led him to his Hermitage, where after some refection ta∣ken, and his wounds bound vp, Robert began to breake out into these termes.

Ah olde man, how fond art thou to foster a viper in thy bo∣some, and a villaine in thy bed? why permittest thou not that I sleepe with death, who am alreadie damned? and may dye without merrie, who haue liued by nought but murther? The olde man amazed to beare his cursed melancholie, knowing that desperate wounds require most of al yrksome medicines, began thus. Ah my sonne, gather thy spirits together, it is fondnesse in thée to desire death, and policie in me to protract life; by the one thou shalt loose occasion of repent; by the o∣ther recouer meanes of amendes: Thou art no viper my sonne, thy sting is blunted, and these deawes of teares thou powrest in my bosome, are sinewes and strings to drawe

thée to heauen: thou art not damned, for the knowledge of thy sinne is a mighty step to thy repentance: thou canst not dye without mercy, since thou wert borne in mercy, neyther will he that made thee to shew his power, suffer thee in thy repen∣tance for to perish. Hast thou bin a murtherer? a great escape my sonne, a breach of Commandement, a hainous sinne: but is not God mercifull to forgiue beyond our conceit? He knew thée in thy Mothers woombe, and ordained thée to an end: he limited the dayes of thy life, and thine houres were not vnknowne vnto him, and all this was done by ordinance of his secret will, and not without the mightie hand of his mercie. Thou hast caryed vncleane ••ands, borne a corrupt heart, béen prodigall in disobedience, prone to contempt, these are the fruites of thy olde man, which shew God what he is, and his mercy how great it is. Oh my Sonne, God is temp∣ted as much in suspect of his mercie, as in neglect of his iu∣stice, for his mercie exceedeth all his works: I will teach thee, and my words shall sauour vnto righteousnes. The hand that gouerneth all things, is deuine: the works of God admit no limits, and his wayes are vnknowne: he ballan∣ceth not sinnes by our proportion, nor condemneth by worldly iudgement. Be confident therefore, and serue the Lord in feare and trembling. Suppose all things wicked that is in thee, and confesse thy wickednes beyond measure. Detest that which thou hast pursued: be penitent in that thou hast defaulted. If the Lord looke vpon thee in mercie, thy soule shall feele it, yea, thy raynes shall waxe hote, and thy spirit moued: neyther feare thou if terrour assayle thee beyonde measure, for the hand is mightie that helpeth thee. Dread not my sonne, feare not, boldly disburthen thy minde of vn∣cleannes, and powre out thy soule before thy God, and weepe with contrition, for in so doing, assure thee thy teares are lacked vp in his bottle: looke what is betweene the East and West, so farre will he separate thy sinnes from thee, if thou repent thee, Robert hearing hereof, began to gather hart, but calling to minde what he had before time heard of the

learned Clearks of Normandy, how there are some sinnes which are against the holy Ghost which are neyther forgiuen in this life, nor in the life to come, he began to beate his breast, his eyes stared, his heare stoode vpright, and as if he had Bemboes vision, he began to cast away all hope of mer∣cie, crying out in this manner, ô etiam in spiritum sanctum pec∣caui; nulla remissio, sempiterna condemnatio. The ould man hearing this extreame allegation, cast himselfe prostrate on his face, crying out vnto the heauens, O ah occultis criminibus liberanos domine. Hold back my Sonne, thou art too forward: deferre to presume on that sinne, which thou canst not define, neyther obiect that to thy selfe, which dependeth on the Iudge: thy déedes are written, but to God belongeth mercie. It is doubted, whether presuming too much on the knowledge of hidden sinne, be not sinne. But be thou aduised by me, referre all to the Lorde, detest all meanes that may seduce thy mind: arme thee with the shield of faith: pray that thy be∣liefe may be increased: let all things seeme vile to thee in re∣spect of true repentance, and thou shalt finde the working of God beyond conceit: enter not into his iudgements, but cleaue vnto his mercies: if thou beest tempted, pray vehe∣mently: what though for a while thy Soule be dull and hea∣uie? it is my Sonne for no other cause, but to make thy ioy more fuller. What can be a more certayne proofe of mercie, than grace to detest sinne? or, how can man better ouercome sinne, than by imploring mercie? But tell me what thou art, and thy course of life, that I may further counsell thee.

Robert hearing this heauenly Hermit in how deuine sort he sollaced him, began to gather hart, and could him the or∣der of his birth, the manner of his life, with other matters too tedious in this place to discourse of. And when the ould man was fully satisfied, he tould him the waight of sinne, the reward of sinne, exemplifying to him the fruites of repen∣tance, and in such manner schooled him, that of a lewd young man, he reconciled him to a stayed and holie course of life, en∣ioyning him for pennance to goe baresoote to Rome on Pilgri∣mage,

wearing at his back a cloth of haire. Robert after his stay about seuen dayes with the Hermit, was in some sort re∣couered, and intending his soules health, besought the com∣pany of the Hermit to his Castell, where finding those his dis∣solute mates who were left aliue, he first by earnest perswa∣sions sought to reconcile them, and finding them no wayes tractable, he put them all to death, as being vipers in his fa∣thers common weale; and locking vp the doores, he led the Hermit into his Treasury, where shewing him the riches which he had taken from others, he humblie prayed him to resort vnto his Father and Mother, to present his submis∣sion, and report his contrition, beseeching them to make re∣stitution to euery one whome he had wronged, and with bit∣ter compassion hee so washed the poore Hermits head in teares, that the good olde man reioycing in spirit, cryed out, Benedictus dominus in omnibus operibus suis, and taking their leaue the one of the other, the Hermit trauailed to the Court at Roan, and Robert walked on his iourney towards Rome.

How Aubert heard of his Sonnes ouerthrow, and did re∣ward the messengers, and how the Hermit arriued at the Court, whose ioyfull tidings was great comfort to the Duke and Duches.

VVHilst Aubert in deepe melancholie dispended his dayes, loathing the detested reports of his Sonnes practises, and consulting with his Nobles in what sort he might cut off such an improfitable off-spring, the messengers of the Duke of Constances presen∣ted themselues before him, who after their most humble re∣uerence signifyed to the Duke, the whole sequel of their mes∣sage, first, the death of their yong Lord, lastly, the discomfi∣ture of his lewde Sonne, which tidings so wounded him to the hart, as for a long time he continued as it were in an ex∣tasie, not knowing to what hopes he might aspire, seeing his succession so desperate: but calling to his remembrance, that

a Princes word was a sufficient warrant, and the losse which (as he supposed) he had sustained, was rather the occasion to cut off a continuall griefe, he cleered his distressed lookes wherein care had planted many furrowes, and turning vnto them with milde countenance, gaue them this friendly aun∣swere. My friends, if my brother of Constances hath reuen∣ged his sonnes death (as you certified me) he hath performed the part of a friend, and exemplified my iustice, for which cause, in that he hath rid our common weale of a Rebell, and his Father of a wicked sonne: we entertaine you as messen∣gers from our friend, and deseruers in our estate, and for this cause we thinke good, that out of our Treasury he receiue such reward as we appointed, and you for your paine taking, shall enioy this small reward of two hundreth marks: in this sort causing his bountie, and the prefixed recompence, to be de∣liuered vnto them, he discharged them, falling into deepe consultation with his Counsell about the affayres of succes∣sion: there was no hart so indurate, that considered on the de∣sperate estate of Prince Robert, but lamented, some one ad∣myring his valiancie, some after his supposed losse, arguing Duke Constances of crueltie, who otherwise hated the yong Prince most deadly. But the consultation of the Princes was broken off by the sodaine repayre of the Duches, who hea∣ring of the desperate estate of her Sonne, and vncertaine of his safetie and life, filled the whole Pallace with feminine clamours: an euery side was sorrow seated, neyther was there eye so partiall in the whole assembly, that shead not some tears, till sodainly in midst of this garboyle, the olde Her∣mit entered the presence, whose sodaine ••xcesse brought them all, into expectation, so that the olde Duke comforting his faire Editha, attentiuely gaue eare, expecting some nouel∣tie, when after most humble reuerence, the reuerent Father began his discourse after this manner.

These strange alterations in your lookes you Princes, perswades me of your ouergreat forwardnesse in passions, who are castly ouercome with euery light ioy, and sodainely

crossed with the lightest trouble: which fruite of intempe∣rance (with reuerence, you Nobles may I be bould to tell you) ariseth through want of equabilitie in minde, and assu∣red remembrance that you are mortall. If according to your worldly store, your estates were constant, you should be so farre from knowing God, as you would quite forget him. At the entraunce of thy Pallace Aubert I see men wee∣ping, because the report runneth thou art wretched; thus are all affections ruled by the affaires of the mightie, and honour is so sauourie a thing in those mens mindes, who would be great, that it sootheth, and is soothed by all sorts of them. In Traians time, all men loued iustice, because he was iust: in Octauians before him, all hunted after peace, in that he was peaceable: in Heliogabalus dayes all were wanton, in that he was wanton: and now, since thy minde is vexed with doubtfull griefe, thy subiects likewise are attaynted with doubtfull griefe. But dry vp your teares good Prin∣ces, and reioyce, Prince Robert (supposed dead) is surely liuing, (yet dead to his olde wickednesse) following better wayes: for after he escaped from his enemyes, he arriued in my Hermitage, where after I had cured his woundes, and counselled him from his wickednesse, hee vndertooke his voyage and Pilgrimage to Rome, but before resorted to Thuringue, labouring to disswade the remnant of his fol∣lowers from their lewd life, which when he could not effect, he in my presence slewe them, vnder pretence (as he sayd) to rid his countrey of caterpillers. And in that, dread Prince and my liege Lord Aubert, he hath mightely offended you, he humbly by me beséecheth his pardon, protesting vehemently a hartie detestation of his sinne; and requesting, that it would please Editha his Lady Mother and Duchesse, to haue him in memorie in her most sacred deuotions: and for that he knoweth that he hath many wayes indamnished poore men, he humbly intreateth your Mightines, to accept these keyes of your Castell of Thuringue, where in the Treasurie you shall finde sufficient to make ample satisfaction for all iniu∣ries:

thus hauing discharged the duetie of a messenger, and acquited your Grace of suspition, I humbly craue licence to depart, that I may the better intend my woonted contem∣plations. It were hard to imagine with what incomparable ioy the olde Duke entertayned this aged Herauld of his happinesse, for his teares of ioy trickling from his eyes as messengers of his hearts content, aboundantly watered the Hermits bosome, and beeing vnable to expresse his ioy, he silent foulded his armes about his aged necke, seeming so besotted with delight, as before he gaue ouer he cryed out with the Grecian, O Fortune, pay this most excéeding ioy with some durable grief, for as now it is at y^• fulnesse: Editha likewise was not carelesse to content her selfe, but drawing the olde man apart, with often repetitions of his troubles, his torments, his passions of minde, his patience in afflic∣tion, as the occasion offered it selfe, she became either plea∣sant, or pensiue, shewing by her changes of couler, hir con∣tentation, or discontents: and in this ioy let vs leaue them, returning to our wearie Pilgrim, meditating in this religi∣ous trauailes: to see how from a gracelesse person, he became a godly penitenciarie, truely the discourse heereof draweth me into admiration of Gods mercie, who calleth men home beyond common beliefe, accomplishing héerein his diuine promise, who sayd, that he came not to call the righteous, but sinners to repentaunce.

Of the strange trauayles that Robert surnamed the Deuill, endured on the way, with those accidents that befell him betwixt Normandy and Rome.

It was about that time when as the Sunne had remembred himselfe of his accustomed loues, and had dispersed the bewties of increase tho∣rough the bowells of the earth, yeelding euery stalke his flowre, euery Tree his fruite, and quickning the

decayed beawties of the fielde, which were beforetime wa∣sted by Winters obscuritie, when this penitent Prince, beforetime esteemed the very patterne of deformitie, began to shewe himselfe the paragon of reformation: his haughtie lookes exchanged he to humble leuitie, his defying of God, to deifying of God, his gracelesse othes, to godly obseruan∣ces, punishing himselfe by bodely trauell, who before time was geuen ouer to butcherly tyrannie: in stead of hamme∣ring mischiefes in his head, he humbled himselfe with con∣templations: his soft bed, was turned to sweete grasse: his Robes of Honor, to the raggs of a Hermite: his pampous ryot, to poore rootes: his ritch Wines, to springing wa∣ters: and such was his patience in these alterations, that he preferred them before all pompous Treasures. Three dayes trauayled hee with restlesse toyle, till at last beeing ouerburdned with extreame wea••inesse, he sate him downe by a cleare Fountayne, cooling his thirst in stead of a courtly Cup, in a homely clapper: and after he had taken such re∣past, as the hearbs of the field affoorded him, he sate him downe vnder a Pine tree, and beholding the barke there∣of, which with smoothnes inuited him to write, and the coole shade which gaue him shelter against the sunny heate, with a little pencile he ingraued this his deuout passion in the thickest thereof.

Roberts Meditation.

O Heauenly God that gouernst euery thing, Whose power in heauen and in the earth we know, Thou God from whome the gifts of grace do spring, Respect my suite who am oreprest with woe. O pittie God, sweete God some pittie take, And cleanse my soule for Iesus Christ his sake.

I wayle the life that I haue led before, The dayes ill spent that came into my minde

Incense my soule with horror very sore, And threaten death vnlesse I fauor finde. O pittie God, sweete God some pittie take, And cleanse my soule for Iesus Christ his sake.

My gracelesse othes now layd before mine eyes, My youth mispent and worne by womens guile, My hidden sinnes my wofull soule surprise, My want of former grace (ay me the while.) Cry mercy Lord that thou wouldst pittie take, To cleanse my soule for Iesus Christ his sake.

Away thou world that flatterest earthly man With heauenly ioyes, and bringst him downe to hell, I loath this life doo thou what so thou can, My longing is with God my Lord to dwell, Who will relent and eke some pittie take, To cleanse my soule for Iesus Christ his sake. Anchora Christus.

These verses were written with a zealous spirit, accom∣panyed with feruent sighes, ha••selled with scalding teares, witnessing his constant contrition, but being troubled in spirit, and desirous to mitigate his martirdome, he attemp∣ted further, writing this Madrigale in the barke of a Cipris tree.

Madrigale.

My reasons eye had seene my youthly rage, How it had worne my hopes of vertue bare, How carelesse wit was want on bewties page, And headlesse will true iudgement did insnare, How all was wrackt that hope of wisedome gaue, It wep•• a world of teares my soule to saue.

The listning eare of that impartiall guide, That by his beck the earth and man directs,

With sunnie beames of peace the teares vp dride, And will made barraine reckned his neglects: Since when my soule for grace to heauen doth flye, In praysing God and blessing reasons eye. Etiam in naufragio.

Thus passed he some fewe houres endeuouring to attaine some rest, and after wearie nature vouchsafed him any concent to wander, he walked onwarde: The fift day after his mor∣nings Orisons hee trauailed through a thicke Wood, giuing scarce any licence to the Sun••e beames to enter those shadie limits: The soyle was barraine, signifying desolation; the trees leaueles, the walkes loathsome: in depth of the shadiest thicket thereof, there sounded a deepe and hollowe voyce cal∣ling intentiuely for helpe, whilest in stead of Ecchoes, the fa∣tall Scritchowle sounded a dolefull replie. Robert amazed at this melancholy spectacle, and wondering at the dolefulnes of the complaint, he boldly entered the desolate shadow, pro∣posing God for his guide, and his courage for his companion: he had not long trauailed, but sodainly he beheld a fierce Lio•• which furiously assayled him, renting off the lap of his Pal∣mers weede, before hee could shape defence: but at last ente∣ring combat with his Palmers staffe, hee so valiantly defen∣ded himselfe, that he slewe the Lyon, and seeing it spraule vp∣pon the ground, entered into this contemplation. Oh GOD that hast deliuered this huge Lyon into my hands, defend me from that roring Lyon which seeketh to deuoure my soule, and prosper me in those actions which I enterprise for thine honour and glorie. This sayd, he procéeded further, when lo•• a faire delicious Damosell crowned with a garland of Roses, apparelled after the manner of a Hamadriade, presented her selfe before him, where making semblance of an amorous and distressed Ladie, she fained a pretie shadowe of complaint, and foulding her armes, as if she had béen Loues forsaken, she tu∣ned this Elegie, whilest from out the hart of the desert, a strange sound of melodious musick accorded to her cōplaint.

Plucke the fruite and tast the pleasure Youthfull Lordings of delight, Whil'st occasion giues you seasure, Feede your fancies and your sight: After death when you are gone, Ioy and pleasure is there none.

Here on earth nothing is stable, Fortunes chaunges well are knowne, Whil'st as youth doth then enable, Let your seedes of ioy besowne: After death when you are gone, Ioy and pleasure is there none.

Feast it freely with your Louers, Blyth and wanton sweetes doo fade, Whil'st that louely Cupid houers Round about this louely shade: Sport it freelie one to one, After death is pleasure none.

Now the pleasant spring allureth, And both place and time inuites: Out alas, what heart endureth To disclaime his sweete delightes? After death when we are gone, Ioy and pleasure is there none.

The finall conclusion of this Canzon, was shut vp with a pleasant Couranto, in which frō out the groue foure Satyres antiquely entertained foure Nimphs, and sodainly vanished, whilest this faire Hamadriade in semblance approached Ro∣bert, wantonly casting her armes about his necke, proffering dalliance: but he whose loue was planted on heauenly, not on earthly delights, sodainly cast her from him, and lifting vp his hands to heauen began thus. O thou maker of the heauen,

tye me to thy loue, intice me to thy lawe, incense me to vertue, subdue in me vanitie, let not temptation conquer, though it trie me; nor Sathan compasse, though he tempt me. The prayer was no sooner finished, but a horrible cracke of thunder fell from the heauens, the Woods were inflamed with light∣nings, and this wanton vision sodainly vanished, in steade whereof succéeded horrible Eathquakes, the Curtaines of the heauen were darkened, the compasse of the world was clow∣ded, and on the face of the Center there appeared through the light of lightning, hideous shapes of Giants threatning him, monstrous Tygers assayling him, but he constantly putting his trust in GOD, and boldly walking on his way, at last at∣tained into an open plaine, in the middest whereof there stood a poore Chappell, with a little Cottage hard beside, and by that time the dangers were ouerpast, & the dimmy approach of the euening foretold him that the day was spent; for which cause he hasted into the Chappell to doo his deuotions, where he found before the Alter a graue old man performing his de∣uine prayers: neither of these two intended worldly saluta∣tions, but solemnely fell to their deuotions, which being per∣formed, the olde man seeing so goodly a personage cloathed in a Pilgrims weed, with great reuerence saluted him, deeming him for no lesse than he was, beseeching his companie in his Hermitage for that night, in that other lodging was not nere at hand. Robert easilie condiscended, and entering the home∣ly Cottage, he was feasted in friendly sort with such dainties, as his poore estate could affoord. During the time of their re∣past, Robert desirous to knowe the secret of the inchaunted Wood, began to question with the olde man about the same: who al amazed to heare that Robert had passed it, in manner of admyration, he answered thus. Truely (my sonne) thou art happie, that through the mercie of GOD hast ouerpassed those dangers which thy predecessors could neuer attaine vn∣to: for this Wood (my friend) is called Le bois du temptation, the wood of temptation, where through many holy men haue attempted to passe, but they haue either béen withdrawne by

delight, or driuen backe by feare, and finally perished through their owne follies: But since thou hast so constantly perseue∣red, procéede in thy deuotion, and let humilitie be thy compa∣nion, and doubtlesse (my sonne) thy ende shall bee farre better than thy beginning. Robert wondering at his doubtfull con∣clusion, replied thus. And why father, doest thou knowe my beginning? I sonne (sayd he) thou art of the earth as I am, borne of a Princesse as I was not, sonne to a Duke, yet of de∣tested life, Robert of Normandy I knowe thee, thy chaunge was foreshowne mee in vision, now therefore prosecute thy pretence, followe thy repentance, for in so doing thou shalt performe mightie things. The sorrowfull Prince hearing but the repeticion of his former life, wept most bitter teares, being sore ashamed to behold the graue father. But the olde man comforted him, and knowing the expedition of his ior∣ney, so animated him, that hee presently set forward, in that the louely Moone assisted him with sufficient light: the aged sire conducted him on his way, in which they had not long tra∣uailed, but they tooke their leaues the one of the other, & Ro∣bert continually prosecuted his iorney. In trauailing the Alps diuers Gentlemen offered him their Moyles to ride vp∣pon, but he refused them. In Italy sundrie Merchants inui∣ted him, wondering at the maiestie of his countenance; but he replied that hee was vnworthie, and so with teares forsooke them. If any his fellowe Pilgrimes fainted on the way, hée bare him on his backe; if any thirsted, hee sought them wa∣ter; he was comfortable to those that were comfortlesse; and where he sawe the innocent wronged he was agréeued. Tra∣uailing about Ancona he sawe a villaine, who cruelly hand∣led a poore countrie maiden, and drawing néere him he so ri∣gorously reuenged the iniustice, that the poore mayd falling at his feete was faine to intreate for her persecutor. Such blind men as he met hee called them happie, assuring them that the losse of their outward eyes kept them from beholding much vanitie; seeing a lame man complayning of his imperfection, make straight thine inward man (sayd he) good friend, for that

shal mount to heauen through thy vertue, when these limm••s shall dissolue to earth and become the pray of vermine. In all his trauailes he was constant, patronizing the weake, punish∣ing the wicked, and in this manner trauailed he till at last hée arriued at Rome.

How Robert the Diuell entered Rome, and what there chanced vnto him.

TWo moneths was Robert ere he attained his iorneys end, and at the last entered the Citie on the feast day of S. Peter, at which time in great solemnitie the Popes are accustomed to goe to diuine Seruice, and humbling him with other Hermites, (as it was the custome in those super∣sticious daies) hee attended there for his benediction: Great was the solemnitie on that day, and throughout the streetes where the Bishop should passe, each one deuoutly humbled him on his knees to entertaine his blessing: At the enterance of the Church, among other deuout Hermites, hee behelde Prince Robert bathed in his teares, humbled on his knees, and wondering at his manly countenance & tall proportion, he questioned with himselfe as touching his estate: the peni∣tent Norman with bitter sighes made him a due relation of his birth, estate, life, alterations and cause of trauaile, beseech∣ing his fatherhood of absolution. The Pope amazed at the name of Robert, whose infamie had béen bruted through the whole earth, s••ept backe as altogether astonished, yet at last gathering his spirits together, and reioycing at his reforma∣tion, he sent him to a wholy and deuout Recluse, who was his 〈◊〉〈◊〉 Confessor, commaunding Robert to be ordered by him, and so giuing him his benediction hee entered his seate royall. Robert intentiuely to reconcile himselfe after hée had performed his vowe, departed out of the Citie towards the Cell of this Recluse, who was a man of much holinesse; the place of his 〈◊〉〈◊〉 was beautifull, from whence he might be∣h••ld the coole streams of Tiber beating vppon the mayden

walls of the world: to be short, be entered the Cell, discouered himself to the Recluse, who detesting his abommable life, and not knowing what maner of punishment he might condignly appoynt him, he commaunded him for that night to continue in deuout prayers in the Chappell, promising him the next morning to satisfie him in his doubts. During the time that darknesse ouerspred the face of the whole earth, and euery bird beast and fish enioyed the happie benefites of fléepe, the vigi∣lant religious couple deuoutly applied themselues to contem∣plation, when about the third houre of the night the Recluse was resolued of his penaunce: wherefore vpon the breake of day, when Robert had arisen from his prayers, he came vnto him, and carying in his countenance the grauitie of a father, and in his heart the sinceritie of a Counceller, he began thus. Yong Prince, if thy contrition for sinne be so compassionate as thou pretendest, and thy zeale to acknowledge the same so accomplished as thou presumest, knowe this that thy danger is lesse and thy benefite the greater, for repentance is a swéete sacrifice, and desire to amend is the way to end the fault. But in that thy offences and follies haue béen extraordinarie, thy punishment must be no lesse, in sufferance whereof thou shalt throughly perceaue the indignitie of thy former sinne. Here∣vpon be prescribed him his penaunce: first that hee should eate no meate but that hée receaued from a dogge: secondly, that during seauen yeres he should be dumbe: lastly, for that space of time he should walke in a fooles habite, in acknowledgmēt of his accustomed leawdnesse. Robert thankfully accepted that which was enioyned him, neither repyning at the hard penance, nor disdayning y^• flender pittance, but taking humble leaue of the Recluse, hasted himselfe vnto the Citie to satisfie that which was prescribed him, and buying him a fooles habit he walked vp and downe the streetes, enduring the reuilings of children, who cast dirt in his face, scoffed and mocked him, and the more lewd language that they vsed, the more content∣ment he receaued, remembring this, that his deserts and pre∣sumptions deserued farre more martyrdome: oftentimes

was he reuiled, but deuotion closed his tongue, considering this in himselfe, that in refrayning the same be auoyded much offence. Certaine of his confederate Hermites beholding this madnesse and idle behauiour, came vnto him to comfort him, but he crossing his hands and weeping teares, poynted to the heauens, signifying thereby that hee suffered that crosse for sinning against thē. In short time he became the by word of the Citie, some buffeted him, which hee endured patiently; some others of more charitie offered him foode, which he with gratulation refused, so that no other noise was published through Rome but of the strange Idiot that was dumbe; the people flocked about him, some praysing his person, some la∣menting his ignorance, some greeuing that he was dumbe, othersome laughing at his dotage: thus euery man gaue his seuerall iudgement of him

How Robert entered the Emperours Court, & how he there liued.

AT last he entered the Emperours pallace, at such time as with his Nobles he solemnized a most solemne and festiuall day, great was the presse about the table, and many the attendants, but Robert boldly entered the presence, demeaning himselfe after such a manner, that the Emperour and Princes tooke very great delight in him, he was actiue of bodie, & vaughted excéedingly well, performing such aduen∣terous trickes, as the Emperour all amazed inquired what be might be; he made him signes of dumnes, shadowing vn∣der colours of delight his intentiue deuotion. Then presented they him meate which he refused, accustoming himselfe at e∣uery such offer to make showe of discontent. The Emperour at that time had a faire Greyhound, who for his swiftnes in the chace and seemelines of bodie was highly esteemed, that beholding Robert fauned vpon him and plaied with him, as if appointed by some diuine instinct to affect him; the Em∣perour seeing he refused meate at his haud, cast some pittance at his dogge, where Robert sodainly strugled for the same and

greedily fed thereon, which made the lookers on intentiue to sport, to accustome him to that kinde of feeding. The Empe∣rour caused him for this cause to be cherished in his own house and tended with diligent care, taking pastime continually to haue Robin in his presence. At night when the festiuals were finished, Robert was brought vnto a good bed well furnished, but he refused it, & gathering together certaine locks of straw hee made him a cabbin vnder the staiers of the Emperours pallace, where for seauen yeres space he cōtinually slept with y^e hound, refusing all other content or delectation. Oftentimes was he priuilie seene to weep bitterly, & when he could get in∣to any seuerall place to pray deuoutly on his knees, which be∣ing tolde vnto the Emperour, made him more curious to en∣quire his progenie, but by no meanes could he vnderstand it, for the good Prince had kept it most secret. Thus may we see that when the minde is withdrawne from worldly delights, (wherewith for the most part wretched men are detayned) all things seeme abiect and vile, except such as lift the soule vnto heauen, and subdue the bodie in his sensualitie. This most fa∣mous and renowmed Romane Emperour, among all other his high blessings and Fortunes benefites, had a faire Ladie to his daughter, whose picture if Praxitiles would describe, or a better Master than Apelles, hee should rather lacke cun∣ning, than lay colours; as beautiful she was as Nature could imagine, and as well formed as she was faire, and no lesse ex∣quisite in learning as in lineaments, her onely imperfection was that she was borne dumbe. This noble Princesse cal∣led Emine, was sought vnto by all the Monarkes and vn∣married Potentates of the worlde, so was her fame brui∣ted abroade, and such was her beautie: among the rest, the Souldan of Babilon vnderstanding by certaine Italian Merchants the excéeding and surpassing excellence of her person, and receauing from them her picture, hée became woonderfullie surprized in loue, so that neglecting all o∣ther pleasures, hee onely setled his minde towardes the attainment of her fauour: Oftentimes presented hée rich

presents to ordinarie trauaylers, desiring onely to growe famous in the Italian Countries, and he that could but in best words set out Emines prayse, had a princely recompence. Round about his Pallace was no other posie but Emine: and in his Oratorie was no other Goddesse but Emine: if he talked, he talked of Emine: if he longed, he longed for Emine: if he wept, he wept for Emine: thus were all his ioyes metamorphosed into Emine. It was woonde∣rous to sée his disguise in attyre after the Christian man∣ner: his desire to be holie after the Christian holynesse, such power hath loue both to alter both the nature and ••••n∣ner of life and religion. But leaue we him, and returne we to Robin, who conuersing continually in the Emperours Court, was at length beheld and fancied by Emine: and al∣though she had not the libertie of speech to expresse his af∣fections, yet by the motion of her body, and the cariage of her eye, she published her fancies. Thus may you see Gentle∣men, certaine grounds layd of strange aduentures, hidden on∣ly in the secret iudgement of God, and certaynely performed in times past, the sequele whereof followed after this manner: and first as touching the estate of the Souldan.

Of the melancholy and strange life of the Souldan during his loue, and the euents of the same.

THe ritch and mighty Souldan of Babylon hauing (as you haue read) in beholding the picture falne in loue with the person, for the space of sixe months secretly concealed his hidden griefe, and communicated it only with straungers and aliens, gan rather increase than diminish his dispaire, for knowing the naturall inclination of his subiects euery way repugnant against the lawes and manners of the Christians, their dissident religions, their different regimēts, their mortall hate, and immoueable stiffneckednesse, he began to giue ouer all thought of contentation, plotting out such a course of life, as therein he shewed more barbarous constan∣cie in loue, than iudgement and discretion: for picking out a

solitarie wood farre from the resort of men, he builded him a place of pleasure, begirt with ritch bulwarks, and inuironed with sweete springs: the lodgings all of white Marble, the pillers of Iaspis, and the whole furniture so rich, as neuer eye of man could behold more wonderfull. In midst whereof, was placed a daintie and wonderfull Garden, stored with all the ritches of nature, with sweete shades, cleere springs, strange flowres, wholesome hearbs: and in the middle of the same was erected a Temple to Cupide and Emine, wherein hir stature made of the purest golde, seemed to stayne all the excellencie of workemanship, for the Paynter had done as much as might be, to describe beawtifull Emine. Herein he closed himselfe, and hauing all the battlements of the temple made of polished Iuorie, he with a true loues knot interlaced his name with Emines, being of himselfe excellently seene in portrait. If any one of his Lords resorted vnto him, destrous to know the name of his Goddesse, he answered Emine: but how he serued, or of what place she was, he durst not tell, fea∣ring y^e barbarous treasons of his greatest subiects. Thus cea∣sed that warlike nation their armes, who were beforetime so famous, and he that was woont to fight for signiorie, was now foyled and besotted with loue. The Nobles about him not induring idlenesse, presented themselues before him, seeking to disswade him from his obscuritie, but all in vayne, till Behenzar, a chiefe Musulmah in Bagdet or Babylon, hum∣bling him on his knee, spake in this manner.

Most royall off-spring of Mahomet, though thy displea∣sure be my death, and thy frowne the ruyne of my fortune, yet knowing my selfe a Subiect, and thy selfe my Soue∣raigne, I will labour for thy delight, though it cost me my death. Why is thy greatnesse that scarse was contented with the world, now at last contained within a wall, or thy courage which neuer was vanquished, thus on the sodaine vayled: Hast thou bin valiant with Haniball, to fall with Hanib••ll? and wilt thou that wontest to make Uictorie thy goddesse, now make vanitie thy gods good. Let me speake

with patience, it is not the idlenesse of thy minde, but the idoll of thy hart; default of eigernes, but the folly of thine eye: I see loue printed in thy browes, I feare loue is planted in thy brest. Oh my Prince, if I deserue fauour, discouer thy fancie, there are remedies for woundes that are knowne, medicines for apparant maladies, but l••cers that are con∣cealed in the flesh, are not cured but by sharpe Phisick: It is loue, I see it working in thine eyes, which infeebled by the power of thy thoughts, would execute that kindnesse which thy hart can not consent vnto. And what if loue? art thou not Lord of Babylon, who may commaund? the brauest befriended by great Kings, who haue fayre Concubines? let Asia be sought out: if Asia hold thy loue, Asia shall not keepe her, if Europe, what may Europe to thy power: As for sandy A∣phrica, the Sunne is too hote to breed any white coulored Phaenix: howsoeuer thou loue my Soueraigne, if it be loue, (and that it is loue thy life declareth) certifie thy Princes of thy fancies, commaund them, employ all, send Embassades, present benefites: if all fayle, thy Sword is true loues dart, which shall pierce further with the terror of thine armes, than all the world that attempteth thy countermaund. The Nobles admyring the boldnesse of Behenzar, and sus∣pecting no lesse, cast themselues in generall at his feete, and sware vnto him by a solemne oth neither to contrary him, nor forsake him, till he had atchieued the fulnesse of his ioy, if so it pleased him to discouer the cause of his pensiuenesse. The Souldan marking their incessant suites, and praysing Be∣henzars dutifull obedience, rowsed himselfe from his melan∣choly seate, and with a milder countenance began thus.

I am fortunate in nothing more my noble Péeres, and beloued Princes, than in this, that I haue valiant men to follow me in my Conquests, and vigilant men to counsayle me in my discontents. You require a matter O my compa∣nions, which hath cost me much hartbreake, and may procure me much happinesse. It is no ordinarie passion that I feele, or seruile pleasure that I follow. I tye not my thoughts to

limits, nor my limits conclude my thoughts. My troubles are like the twynnes of Democritus, augmented at once, counselled by nothing, but by my opinion: I haue the quali∣tie of Salmacis, which being tasted, procureth madnesse, and this qualitie is loue, and this loue in me hath the disposition of the Hamonian Lake, capable of all formes, but consumed by one, which forme may not be reformed. Ah Behenzar, well mayst thou accuse myne eyes, for they by a héedl••sse glaunce, haue eclipsed my matchles glory. Oh my Princes, I sweare to you by Mahound whome I honor, by my right hand that neuer fainted, I blushingly confesse I loue, but not so basely as Haniball, for Capua contained his, where Europe admyreth my Mistres. It is fayre Emine I loue, to whome this Alter is erected, and my vowes are directed. Princes woonder not, Theagines a Greeke, loued Cariclia a Moore, & your Souldan a Mahometist, his Emine a Chri∣stian. The ayme of my thoughts is the honor of Rome: oh sweete Rome that containeth such an honor, which if I attaine not, it is but your discontents, my death, & if my death, what though: oh happy death if for her grow my durance. This ab∣rupt conclusion was followed with such a bitter sigh, as all men expected no other but his finall ouerthrow, or her con∣sent: wherevpon his Nobles priuatly, consulted, and by his consent Behenzar was made Embassalor, and with ritch presents sent to Rome to craue Emine in Mariage, and if the repulse should be graunted, the conclusion was, that priuie intelligence should be giuen, and Ships rigged, to the ende that on the sodaine the Souldan might inuade Christen∣dome, and rid himselfe of all the obstacles of his happines. These conclusions well liking the Souldan, were briefely debated, the Embassadors dispatched, the Ships rigged, the souldyours leuyed, and the despaire that the Souldan con∣ceaued, at the first was turned into a fresh hope, yet the sweet grounds of his pleasant discontents so alluref him, that in seeming to hope, he pretended despaire, and in the absence of his Lords, who intended the furtherance of his affayres, he

traffiqued nought else but fancie, drawing on three Iuorie colombes, enuironing the statue of Emine, these three succee∣ding Sonnets: vppon the first, he placed a Camelion in a sea of bloud, with this Mot vnderneath it, Mututus ab ill••, and vnderneath the same this Sonnet.

The first Sonnet. (Book 1)

IN how contrarious formes haue I conuersed, Since first mine eyes and hart by loue were chained, Now like the Hart my bosome hath been pearsed, Yet no Dictamnum seru'd when I was pained.

Now like the babe of Climene inclosed, In piteous barck Electrum haue I stilled, Now like the Nimph of craggie rock composed, The rocks and woods with sorrowes haue I filled.

Now to a dying Swan haue I been turned, With dolefull tunes my funeralls waimenting, Now to the Salamander neuer burned. Yet in the fire for euermore frequenting. Oh loathed life on nought but sorrow grounded, Where who so triumphs most, is deepest wounded.

Uppon the second he placed a Barck perished in a stormy Sea, a Furie guiding the helme, the Sky ouercast, the Ge∣mini appearing, vnder which was written Sic perij, and vn∣der that this Sonnet.

The second Sonnet. (Book 2)

SAyling the sea of my forepointed greenaunce, My will the helme of my misfortune guiding, Expecting gaine suspecting no mischeeuaunce, With stailesse keele I cut the waters gliding.

The faire liurnall lampe whilst that I sayled. With neuer partiall eye my course assisted, But when the lights delightfull bewtie fayled, And wauering cinthia in her course persisted.

In siluer ••ould two brother Starres appeered, That in the cloudy iorney I attempted, Incenst the Seas, and more my Shop they necred, (Though faire in forme) my Barck from hope exempted, Amidst the storme my will the helme forsaketh, And thus my Ship a lucklesse shipwrack maketh.

On the third he painted Mens, Fortuna, and Natura, all striuing to rayse a dead man, who had foure Cupids, two hanging at his hands, two et his féete, which kept him downe with this Motto, Hic labor, and vnderneath the same this Sonnet.

The third Sonnet. (Book 3)

IF all things are ordained to an end, In semblaunce good, or perfect good in deed, What finall bent haue these my teares I spend, Or all the drops my wounded hart doth bleed. Or to what fat all period are you aimd My bitter sighes, that haue my bosome maimd.

Oh my effects of passion euery thing, That to a certaine purpose is applied, His finall hope at last to end doth bring, But such successe alas is you inuied. For though mine eye his teares, my hart his bloud, My brest his sighes bestowes, they doo no good.

For why the end for which you trauell sore, Is not attained by the threefold gifts

Of mind of body, or of fortunes store, Which man to tipe of matchlesse honnor lifts. For what you seeke no limits doth admit, Nor yeelds to time, nor is subdewd by wit.

Cease then my teares, and bleed no more my hart, Restraine your stormes, my sighes you toyle in vaine, For your felicitie exceedeth arte, Whereto nor toyle nor labour may attaine. For loue it is subtill influence, Whose finall force still hangeth in suspence.

In these passions and fantasies consumed the Sould•••• the most part of his time, now imagining hope of successe, now fearing cause of repulse, adoring Emine as his Saint, and placing his follace in his amorous conceits, vntill such time as he heard the fatal message of his ouerthrow: till whē we leaue him, returning to Behenzar, who hauing a prospe∣rous winde, and a better will, sayled so fortunatly, and tra∣uailed so forwardly, that he arriued at Rome, where what successe he had, you shall vnderstand in the Chapter follo∣wing.

How Behenzar arriued at Rome, and of his repulse and dispatch. The valiant courage of Robert hearing the name of Christ blasphemed. The loue of Emine to∣wards him: and the assembly of the christian Princes in the ayd of the Emperour.

THe rumor was no sooner spread throughout the dominions of the Empyre, but all contributa∣rie Princes assembled together in the Citie of Rome to doo the Emperour seruice, and make his estate more pompous, and after letters of safeconduit presented to the Embassador, Behenzar moun∣ted on a braue Barbarion Horsse, trapped in Tissue, and

Pearle, himselfe attyred after the Barbarian fashion, with his Algozin of cloth of gold embrodered with rubies, being led betweene two Kings, was in all solemnitie conducted vnto the Emperours Pallace, who in his great Hall, set among an innumerable troupe of Courtiers, as Phoebus a∣midst the lesser Scarres, whome Behenzar after small or no salutation attempted thus. Emperour of Rome, amongst all the blessings thy God hath bestowed on thee, among all thy fortunes that haue befalne thee from thy youth hither∣to, the onely good is this, that out Souldan of Babylon, the terrour of the world for armes, the Lord of Conquerours, for actions, dayneth to salute thee, who hearing of the beawtie of thy Daughter the young Princesse Emine, and vouchsafing to grace thée with his alliance, craueth her as his Wife in Marriage, which bountie of his if thou neglect, know, that thou fosterest the shadow of thine owne ruyne, thy Kingdomes shalbe spoyled, thy Princes flayne, thy Crowne troden at his féete, and thy ruines shalbe so grieuous, that thy royalties were neuer so great. If thou entertaine his de∣maunds, hold, take these presents (whereupon he caused twentie Moores to discharge their carriages of gold & siluer, and lay it at his feete) if not, be lendeth thee it as a pledge of his reuenge, till he redéeme it with the sword, Great was the murmure throughout the hall at the insolence of the Pa∣gan, and among the rest Emine was exceedingly moued, who sitting at her Mothers féete, by her teares began to te∣stifie hir cause of terrour. The Emperour being a Prince of a haught hart, disdayning to be outfaced by the brauest war∣riour in the world, hauing long since determined neuer to marrie his Daughter out of Christendome, returned Be∣henzar this magnificall answer. It is not our custome in Europe prowd Babylonian, to perswade with peremptorie threats, but to woe with gentle intreaties, and as our natures are mollified by mildnes, so are they indurate by menaces. If y^• Souldan salute me as his equall he erreth, for y^e Emperour of Christendom daines no so bace companion as a Souldan:

if as his superior, I thus answer him, the distance of his coun∣trie, the difference of his custome, the abiectnes of his riches, the barbarisme of his religion, these disable him to be an Em∣perours son; as for my daughter she must bee ruled by her fa∣ther, & her father wil not admit thy master, who if he attempt me with iniuries, I will temper him for his iniustice; as for his presents I bestow thē on thee, for golde (Barbarian) a∣mongst vs, is of small accompt in respect of vertue, go let thy vassalls take it vp, and carrie thou that home as a gift meeter for a messenger of the Souldans, than a Master of the Soul∣dan; for his inuasions I feare them not, since my Christ is my protector, vnder whose safe conduct both these and I little feare him, and so be thou answered. Behenzar mad with rage seeing the Emperours small regard, stamped with his foote, and sware thus: By Mahound (Christian) thy Carpenters sonne that Christ, your God, shall not saue thy hands, nor thy heads from the sword of the meanest Prince about the Soul∣dan, but this Citie shall be raced in despight of thy protector, and thy power. Behenzar had so sayd, and in his furie was stinging out of the Pallace, when Robin the Diuell hauing all this while solemnely attended at the foot of the Emperour, all on the sodaine arose, and not induring to heare the name of his Sauiour blasphemed, he flung the Pagan to the groūd, and stamped him vnder his feete, which done, he made shewe of a foolish triumph, and bumming the proud Babilonian with his bable, he had welny killed him, had not y^• Princes drawne him off, who safety conducted blaspheming Behenzar to his shippes, and smilingly laughed at the insolence of the Idiot. The faire Emine seeing the forwardnesse of her Champion was meruailously delighting, shewing vnto her father by signes that he was no foole but some man of high spirit, euerie day dressed she meanes to recouer his wits, vsing prescripts of Phisicke, and the councell of the learned, who secretly in∣formed her that he was a man of rare expectation. These sup∣positions meruailously inflamed her, and loue began to show himselfe in act in all her outward parts, inflaming her eyes,

changing her colour, which least it should be perceaued, she with humble reuerence forsooke the assembly, leauing her fa∣ther with the other Princes in great consultation, who resol∣uing to preuent all inconueniences, departed each one to his Countrie, swearing by solemne oath each one to gather his greatest power, and to come and assist the Emperour the next yeare in the suspected, or rather certainlie pretended warres of the Souldan: in which mindes I leaue them intentiue on their forces, Robert deuout in his follies, Emine detayned with fancies, Behenzar sayling to Babilon, who with such ex∣pedition followed his businesse, that with a prosperous wind hee arriued in Assiria, and so hastely posted to Bagdet: what there insued the Chapter following shall declare.

How the Souldan being repulsed by the Emperour, with a huge and mightie armie sayled into Italy, and how he be∣sieged Rome, with some euents thereabout.

NO sooner had Behenzar declared vnto the Souldan the resolute and carelesse answere which the Empe∣rour had returned him, but racing his rich Pallace, and stamping the statue of his Goddesse Emine to powder, he furiously called for Armes, swearing all his Princes by solemne and inuiolable othes, neuer to depart out of Chri∣stendome, till they had ruinated the Empyre, and recouered his loue: and hereupon he embarked himselfe as soone as the next Spring appeared, accompanied with 11. Kings, 18. Princes, & 300. Mesulmahes, his Armie cōsisted of 300000. horse and foote, his Barkes and Gallies ••hoked the Sea, and the billowes groning vnder the burthen, began to wonder at the wood of stately Pines which laboured vppon their bo∣somes. With these forces and in this Equipage arriued this Souldan of Babilon in Italie, the terror of whose threats ama∣ted all the Westerne parts; the poore countrie men through∣out Italie droue their Cattell to the chiefe Cities, forsaking their houses, and leauing their riches; the noyse of trouble a∣mated

Greece, and afflicted Spaine, and the French as all ama∣zed prepared armes. And as in common dangers a huge and mightie armie is the onely meane to make head against a fu∣rious Enemie, the whole Nations assembled them together about Rome, and submitted themselues vnder the conduct of the Empyre. Now at Rome in stead of beautiful houses were builded strong Bulwarkes; in stead of Pallaces, Palisadoes, and each man was mightily addicted to the safetie of his coun∣trie. But the Barbarian like the cruell riuer of Tigris, excee∣ding his bounds with vnmeasurable and resistlesse waters, or the lightning falling vppon the drie Cedars, ouerran all the fruitfull champion, destroyed Cities, burned Uillages, raced Manner houses; the voyce of desolation was heard on euery side, and feare and wonder assayled men on euery side: The Clergy with great deuotion called for assistance from heauen, and euery man hearing of the daunger of his neighbour, sus∣pected his owne domage to be at hand. At last the Souldan after great victories, rich spoyles, good fortunes, and long iorneys arriued at Rome, begirting the Citie with a mightie and strong siege, his streamers waned in the winde, and the Egle of golde shining on the top of his Pauilion, seemed to a∣bash all the beauties of the Capitoll. The Emperour was no lesse vigilant in preparing defence, for being assisted by the brauest men of Europe, he neither pretermitted policie, nor o∣mitted oportunitie: often were the outrodes the Enemie made about the Countrie, and there passed no day wherein there was no some light skirmith, wherein for the most part the fortune was doubtfull. But Behenzar mooued with the outrage of the Idiot, among all the Pagans was most for∣ward to battaile, euery day would hee ride about the walles, reuiling the Christians, calling the Emperour Toward, his followers Foxes, that durst not stirre out of their hale, till at last Pepin of France with other famous Lords, who indured not concumelie, neither brooked braues, so earnestly wrought with the Emperour, that the battaile was appoynted the day following, and the Souldan thereof aduertised by a Harrolt;

great was the preparation on both sides, and greater the dread among the Christians, in that the whole hope of the Empyre depended on the fortune of that conflict. No sooner did the bright and beautifull messenger of the day, with blushing seemelines awaken the sleeple God of light, whose Chariot being apparelled by the houres, with golden brightnesse gaue possession to radiant Phoebus, but both the armies issued out into the field, and in a faire plaine arranged themselues in battaile, there might you heare on both sides the Captaines exhort, the Caualiers applaude, the Trompets made a hea∣uenly harmonie, inforcing the horses to carrier, and the heart to courage: in briefe, the battailes ioyned, where the Soul∣dan shewed inestimable feates of armes, hewing, murthering, and ouerthrowing whom so euer he met. Pepin like Mars in∣raged, or Achilles incensed, beating downe all that resisted, brandishing his sword like lightning, now stroke hée downe the King of Circasso, the Duke of Hieropolis, now reskewed the olde Emperour, who laden with yeares and armes, yet lacking no courage, sought all meanes possible to subdue his enemies. Behenzar on the other side seemed like Alexander among the Macedones, for being attended on by a troope of Mamelukes, resembling the Macedonian Phalax, he disper∣sed the horsemen, tossing them on his pikes, so that after a bitter and long ••ight, the right wing of the Christians was discomforted: there might you see Ortacus of Denmark•• shewe himselfe a braue war••iour, who entering vppon the Thessalian horsemen with his Danish Regiment, so dismem∣bred them, that they fled about the fields, both disordered and welny destroyed. But the Souldan relied them s••dainly, and intermedling them with fresh hands of Souldiers, gaue such a charge on the front of the enemies battaile, that it was inforced to recoyle. The Christians in this incountrie were put to the worst; of Princes were slaine the Duke of Consa, the Earle of Malgrania, the King of Pontus, the Marques of Pisarra, and to the number of 1700. Christians, the Empe∣rour himselfe hardly escaped, and was in great perrill of his

life, who gathering vp his broken wings together, in grie∣uous discontent of minde entered his Citie, whilest the Pa∣gans triumphed in their Tents, hauing lost but to the num∣ber of 900. men, besides those of marke and accompt.

Of the great moane that was made throughout Rome for the losse of the Christians, and how Emine the next day of battaile gaue Robert the Diuell a rich white Armour and Shield, with a white horse, who reskued the Emperour, and did wonderfull deedes of armes.

GReat was the moane through all Rome for the Chri∣stians ruine, many the teares of the mothers be moa∣ning their sonnes, many the sighes of the daughters weeping for their fathers, there was no house in the Citie which solemnized not some funerall, and happie was he in his misfortune, whose sonne had béen most forward. But among all the mestfull families, the Emperours Court was most vn∣fortunate, where in stead of rich spoyles, the Emperiall cham∣bers were replenished with dead and wounded bodies, and confusion seeming to haue elected her habitation in that place, began to infect euery particular person with his poyson. The Empresse bathed in teares, had her eyes almost choaked vp with weeping, and Emine the flower of beautie seemed like the Rose ouerwashed with ouerlirant shewes, her crimson staines became pale and bleake colours; so much doth sorrow alter both the inward and outward habilities. Robert agrée∣ued in heart to see these discontents, groaned in mind, though he dissembled mirth, practising all meanes possible to delight the Emperour, to mooue laughter to the Empresse, to content Emine; faine would he haue enterprised armes, but he durst not, fearing it was preiudiciall to his vowe, and so much cou∣rage wrought in his heart, that espying his Confessor one day, who by reason of these warres had withdrawne himselfe into the Citie, he by signes shewed his de••ires to doo the Em∣perour seruice. The good old man falling on his necke bles∣sed

him, and confidently perswaded him thereunto, (so his de∣sire were not for vaineglorie sake, but for the honour and in the name of Christ). Robert resolued herein became more frolicke, moouing great pleasure in the Princes, by kissing their swords, and playing with their armes; many battailes were there fought, wherein he would faine haue béen present: One day among the rest, at such time as the Princes issued out to battaile, Emine called Robert vp into the top of a high turret, from whence they might behold all the manner of the conflict: but alas, the day was fatall to the Christians, and the cries of them that fled pierced the very heauens. Robert not able to endure these massacres, wept bitter teares for an∣ger, and seeing Emine discontent, made signes vnto her for armour; she by diuine instinct somewhat assertained of his in∣tent, secretly with her owne hands armed him in a rich white armour of her fathers, which he vsed in his youth, giuing him a faire sword and shield, and shutting his beuer close comman∣ded that a horse should bee giuen him; the groomes of y^• Em∣perours stable gaue him a fierce and stout Steede of selfelike colour as his armes weare of, on which speedely moun∣ting, he issued foorth of the gates, gathering together the scat∣tered troopes, and entered the thickest of the Saracens with such furie, that before his •• aunce was broken he dismounted thirtie of the best Pagans: then taking in hand his well tem∣pered sword, hee performed such Cheualrie, as all the behol∣ders were amazed, his sworde lighted in no place where it cleaued not a lim, neither was their Helmets of that temper that could withstand his stroake, he slewe Behenzar hand to hand, and had welny taken the Souldan prisoner, had not a band of strong Tartarians reskewed him. Emine from her solitarie Turret beholding his prowesse, was surprized with meruailous sollace, now wished she that she could speake whereby she might mooue her loue, now desired she that hée were as noble, as hee was valiant, and as wittie, as hee was worthie. But the Emperour among the rest was wholly re∣uiued with the sight, and yéelding God most humble thankes.

animated his Souldiers to pursue the victorie; many and valiant were the men that fell that day by Roberts sworde, and had not the night by speedie approach departed both the Armies, the Souldan had that day suffered an vndoubted o∣uerthrowe: whereuppon both the Armies sounded the re∣treate, and Robert with all expedition priuilie entered the Citie, where encountering the Recluse his Confessor, he left his Armour with him, and hid his horse in a Monastarie, where the good man was resiant, returning to the Court in his fooles habite: by which time the Emperour with his at∣tendants was entered the Citie, and being disarmed sat him downe in great content, discoursing with his Princes and Emperours vppon the affayres of that dayes seruice; great was the noyse throughout the Citie of the white Knights valour, and in Court was no other talke but of the straunge Knight that behaued himselfe so valiantly. The Emperour made great inquisition after him, but by no meanes could vnderstande thereof.

By this time Robert and his hound (as was his custome) entered the dyning chamber, playing many pleasant trickes before the Emperour, who tooke thereat wonderfull delight, Emines eye was continually fixed on him, and whilest the Kings talked of the valiant warriour, she purposely poynted at him. It fortuned in this incountrie that Robert had a little scratch ouer his right eye, which being but freshly wounded bled a little; the Emperour that loued him deerely, examined who had harmed him; great noyse was there about the Pallace of this iniurie, and no man would be knowne of it, only one Knight knéeling before the Emperour, certified his grace that the knight who had deserued so much in his seruice that day, was wounded in the same place, & that he suspected it was he. Robert fearing least he should be discouered, began much more to play y^• Idiot, putting his Cockscomb vpon the Knights head & laughing, which caused all y^e Princes to take great delight: but Emine still poynted at him, & if the libertie

of her tongue had graunted her meanes to discouer the secre∣cie of her thought, Robert assuredly had at that time been knowne. The Emperour notwithstanding began to gather on these allegations, and desirous to knowe the certaine trueth, priuatly appoynted certaine Knights against the next day to the number of thirtie to attend the sayd Champion; and by some meanes to cause his discouerie. In this manner passed they the euening in delight, till it was bed time, when as the Emperour and Emperesse (after order was gi∣uen for the safetie of the Citie) betooke them to their rest, and the other seuerall Lords and Princes to their lodging, at which time Robert and his hound entered their homely cab∣bin, wherein meditating without closing his eyes, the salt teares streamed downe his cheekes in remembrance of his sinnes, in thought of his father, in consideration of his coun∣trie: and now came there to his minde how for sixe yeares and mare hée had liued an abiect life, vnworthie his estate, the thought whereof so much abashed him, that it is vnpossible to reckon vp his perplexities: then called hee to minde the kinde effections of Emine, and his soule bemoned that so per∣fect a person should haue so palpable an vnperfection: now applied hée the cause thereof to the Emperours sinne, ac∣compting the virgin happie, that by her want of speach esca∣ped from many occasions of offence: then recorded hee the effusion of Christian bloud, and of méere compassion in mid∣dest of that thought hee wept most bitterly, when the poore kinde beast licked vp his teares. In this sort spent he the night in consideration of many thinges, and in conclusion of the aduenture of his life, for the s••fetie of Christendome: whilest the approach of the morning called each one from his ••ouch, and the warning Trompet called out to the fight, their went euery one to arme him, and after they had heard the di∣uine seruice, & taken some refection, prepared themselues vnto the fight: In the Souldans Camp all were farre otherwise, for y^• losse they receaued y^• day before en••enomed their harts,

and made them more vigorous vnto reuenge, each one resol∣ued with this Camarado, to subdue, or dye; to conquer, or be confounded. In their lookes were shadowed their tyrannies, and in their hast their hardinesse. Scarcely were the allarms sounded on both sides, but the enemy gaue the charge, and the Souldan inflamed with loue, and inraged with furie, sought by all meanes possible to confound his aduersaries. On euery side were heard the gronings of wounded men, some hauing lost their armes, some their legs, the sonne of∣tentimes was trampled vnder the horsse féete of his father, and in these common miseries, nature her selfe stoode amazed to behold the Massacres. The Souldan which way soeuer he trauailed, ouerthrew his resistants, the Emperour was by him vnhorssed and wounded, and had not Pepin, and Charles of Burgundie rescued him at that time, actum esset de imperio. Certaine men that were lightly wounded, brought no lesse astonishment into the Citie, than was in the battaile, for they aggrauated the discomfiture farre more than it was, repor∣ting that the Emperour was vnrecouerably distressed. Ro∣bert hearting of these rumors, hasted to the Recluse, his soule groaned within him, and zeale ouercame him, so that after some deuout prayers, accompanyed with remorsefull teares, he mounted on horsseback, and hauing taken his armes, he so valiantly and furiously entered the fight, that those who beheld him, thought that some tempest had bin stirred vp, and some whirlewind issued from the Citie, in his furie he tooke no regard of person, murthering whomesoeuer he incounte∣red: scarce could his horsse stirre himselfe for the multitude of dead men that fell before him: such of the Christians as fled out of the battaile before his entrance, returned vehemently, so that the conflict was renewed with such vigor, as the hea∣uens in vehement showers seemed to be weepe the murther. The Emperour beyond all expectation, shewed himselfe va∣liant, and approching the place where the Norman Prince fought, he cryed out for extreame ioy: Oh hope of Christen∣dome, thou flowre of chiualrie, thou anchor of mine Empire,

the heauens requite thee: see how old in yeares my person shall accompany thee, how forward I will fight, and inforce thy selfe the more to preuent the desolation of yond Citie. Robert quickned with his words, departed as if he vnderstood him not, and meeting with the Souldan, gaue him such a stroke on the helmet, that his horsse fell vnto the ground, and he himselfe was wonderfully amazed. The whole band of the Mamelucks seeking to withstand him, were either dissipated or destroyed, and be that thought to gaine y^e chiefest triumph, enacted the choicest tragedie: in briefe, as the tender blossoms new apparra••led by nature, issuing from their stalks as new borne creatures, vpon the violent breath of a Northren wind, are depriued of their beawtie and decayed in their blossome: so the Pagans beholding the forwardnes of the assaylant, and the feeblenesse of their assembly, fled away, both care∣lesse of their weale, and recurelesse in their wrack. Robert seeing the euening approching on, the Christians prowd with victorie, the pursuite hote, the flight hastie, sodainely with∣drewe himselfe; for the gentle Westerne winde (a kind loue∣mate of the euentide) began with curteous breathings to as∣swage his ouergrowne wearinesse, the sunne in the East set in his scarlet rednesse, pretending the beawtie of the succee∣ding day, or the windynes of the following night; for which cause, dreading to be be ••cried, and desirous to escape, (a∣scribing all glory to heauens, and not vnto his hand) he so∣dainly departed, leauing the Christians to pursue that with swiftnesse, which he had compassed by his sword, but whilst he seeketh to auoyd the furie of his enemie, he is readie to perish through the meanes of amitie, for the thirtie chosen Knightes appointed by the Emperour to descrie him, at such time as he forsooke the battaile, followed him hastelie, and couching their Launces all at once, on sodayne assayled him: he seeing so many attempting him at once, turned his horsse, resoluing to endure the hazard, but finding their armes to be Christian, he spurred his horsse, detesting vtterly to come in know∣ledge:

the pursuite was hote, the flight seruent, the follo∣wers in despayre, the flyer determined; how often smiled Robert to himselfe, knowing that he fled before he feared? how often feared they to touch him, that fled from them? in briefe, some one better horssed than the other, seeing that the hazard of their credits depended on their knowledge, hauing the swiftest Horsse, pursued the Norman Prince, and so egerly indeuored, that he gaue him a deepe wound in the thygh, and sodaynely returned to his companyons, knowing, that the bitternesse of the same, and the eager∣nesse of his griefe, would soonest disclose the obscuritie of the sufferer. And now began the night to giue freedome to the afflicted, and Robert meanes of escape, who arriuing at the Hospitall of the Recluse, set vp his Horsse, b••und vp hys woundes, and in his Idiotlie habbit, entered the Court. Emine that had seene the battaile, could hardlie contayne her selfe, entertayning the supposed Ideot with many solemnities, beeing onely priuie with the holie man to his ordinarie rescouses. Often did she offer in signes, to shewe he was wounded, but Robert so cunningly concea∣led his agonyes, as the world could not discerne his gree∣uaunce. In conclusion, the day closing vp, the daungers were manyfest, the Christians had the vpper hande, the Pagans were discomfited, and the Emperour returning in tryumph vnto his Court, was solemnelye receyued with Procession, and euery valiant Prince entertayned also with publique applaudings. In the Pallace was pre∣pared a most sumptuous Banquet, aud such Bonefiers and beneuolence was bestowed in the Citie, as if the Empe∣rour had been but newly established. After such as were wounded were with comfortable Oyles and Medicines reuiued, they set them downe to Supper, yeelding to al∣mightye GOD most hartye thanks for their so for••unate victorye, passing away the night in such mirth and iollicie, as if they had at that tyme solemnised some Festiuall.

The Emperours Treasurie was opened, and benefites were employed on euery side with great bountie: the Io Pea••s of triumph, resounded in all places, and amongst the rest a braue Poet, yet deuout, after the solemne harmony of Musick pre∣sented this Hymne.

Eurilochus Hymne.

WHen wastfull warres, (fruites of afflicting time) Haue left our soyle deuoyde of all suspence: When barraine hope, the flowre of earthly Prime Perceiues that grace exceedeth mans offence: What may we worke, or what may man pretend, Whereof to God he not ascribes the end?

Our dull and fruitlesse fruites of fleeting earth Are sinfull (like our selues) that them suppose, Sinnes haruest neuer failes, but grace hath dearth, Oh how contrarious mortall men are those That ground on this, that God hath griefes withstood, And yet from God acknowledge not the good?

All Empires are exchanged, and changing thriue, (Yet only God is cause of euery change) Estranged the men that were, from men aliue, Affections thus still liue, by being strange. In changes yet since God alone directs, He makes a change from grace who so neglects.

In colours thus we compasse mickle worth, All senselesse in suppose thus sense we vse (Great Princes) grace from secrets wendeth foorth, Which proffered some accept, and some refuse. Let those who tast the fruites commend the tree, This I from God, and God hath taught it mee.

And besides all these reuelings, Robert notwithstanding his wounds, was in apparance maruellous pleasant, for neyther the greeuousnesse of his sinne, nor the greatnesse of his misfortune could alter his delights in this publike re∣ioyce. He made prettie skirmi••hes with his hound, and after he had attayned the conquest, seemed in choller to leade the kinde creature in his leash. Now began he in signes to disci∣pher his sollace, presenting the Emperour with Palme bowes in stead of victorie and peace, and with an Oliue Garland in token of a Conquerour, which gaue the Monarck mightie occasion of reioyce, but the Monarck after his minde had for a while béen detayned with pleasure in midst of his thought of victorie, began to enquire of him who was the occasion of his victorie, and conferring with his Princes, he resolued himselfe by their counsayles in what manner he might requite his curtesies, then calling vnto him the thirtie Knights, he questioned with them about him, who could no otherwise informe him, but that through the swiftnesse of his Horsse, he escaped from them, and was by one of them wounded in the thigh, by which meanes they thought he should onely be knowne, and by no other: this made the Em∣perour amazed, considering his voluntarie obscuritie, and great desert, but Emine still poynted at Robert, Emine still intimated Robert: some suspected this man, some that man. To be short, in that Christendome had béen saued, and Rome preserued by his mea••es, by common consent it was orde∣red, and the next day most solemnly proclaymed, that he who had so well deserued of the Common weale, if leauing his vo∣luntarie obscuritie, he would bring foorth his white horsse and armour, and shew the wound that was inflicted him in the last comba••e, he should inrecompence of his good deserts to∣wards Christendome, be made he••re apparant to the Em∣pire, and receyue in Marriage faire Emine the daughter of the Emperour. This being thus concluded, Emine seemed to reioyce, and imbraced Robert in open assembly, mouing hir Father and Mother thereby to 〈◊〉〈◊〉 admiration.

Each one thorough the Court, began to descant vpon this e∣uent, and the whole Citie was sodainely stiled with the ru∣mor. At last the houre of midnight approched, whereby the w••erie trauailed Princes were called to rest, and Robert a∣greeued with his wound layd him downe in his Cabban, and the ••ound supplying the office of a Surgeon, licked vp the clotted b••oud of his wound.

How meruailously the Souldan was discontented after his ouerthrow, with the tidings that was brought him as touching the Proclamation.

BUt where the Emperour sollaced for victorie, the Soul∣dan sorrowed in that he was vanquished, and entering his royall tent, altogether discontent, he began to ex∣claime on the destenies, to complaine of his desaster, to expo∣stulate with loue, to repeate of his losse, yea so was his hart ••urthened with incessant griefes, his mind broken with reme∣dilesse grudges, that from a reasonable man, he became inra∣ged. Alasse sayd he preposterous and iniurious ••ortune, the variable goddesse of human estates, and the 〈…〉〈…〉 of worldly stabilitie, thou temperest the indignities of those that trust thee not, and ouerturnest the dignities of those that tempt thee not. Thou hast made me, who whilome might compar•• for felicitie with Caesar, complaine my mis∣fortunes with Sertorius. I am bereft of delight, banished from loue, and is not this misrrie? I am robbed of my friends, reuiled of my foes, and is not this martyrdome? Oh that I had béen buried in my Cradle, or bereft of thy cru∣eltie, or thou hadst béen more c••nstant or I more 〈◊〉〈◊〉? Worldy mis••ries haue their medicines; discontents are ••e∣lieued by counsailes wants and decayes by works a••d dili∣gence, reproofes, by patience, in complections all contrarie humors haue their helps. Anticira purgeth Melancholy, Rubarbe Choll••r, Scency Flegme, Woundes haue their 〈…〉〈…〉

philosophy to helpe it: but loue, the 〈…〉〈…〉, the determined pestilen••e of 〈…〉〈…〉 poyson of the hart, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 vnconquered 〈◊〉〈◊〉 of the soule, that hath no Antidotes to preuent, nor elect••aries to comfort, nor perswasions to relieue, nor purges ••o expulse, only it is infinite in nature, and infinite in crueltie. Oh my life, how art thou miserable through my loue? and my loue, how mis∣gouernest thou my life? by thee I haue lost friends, and am desolate in fortunes, I perish in thy rage, my subiects perish through thy rashnesse. Oh that I had been perswaded, or, that I had better preuented. But why spend I the time in wishes, which are no meanes of welfare, Vna salus 〈◊〉〈◊〉 nullam sperare salutem. Let me dye, for death taketh away the scandale of my decay, yea only death is the medicine of my miserie: this sayd, he cast himselfe groueling on his bed, contemning all foode, refusing all nourishment, neyther could the perswasion of his Princes, nor the prayers of his souldyours, in any wayes withdraw him from his 〈◊〉〈◊〉, till sodaine newes was brought by an espiall out of the Citie, of the generall Proclamation published in Rome, that who so could bring forth his white horse and armor, and shewe the wound that was 〈◊〉〈◊〉 him in the 〈…〉〈…〉, he should in recompence of his good deserts towards Chri∣stendome, be made heire apparant to the Empire, and re∣ceiue faire Emine the Daughter of the Emperour in Mar∣riage. This newes somewhat relieued him, and a sodaine hope entered his hidden thoughts. He knew his owne cou∣rage of as great consequence as any mans, whereby if he were crossed in his voluntary purpose, he might wag•• the Combate, he gathered by circumstance, that the Knight who deserued, had vowed obscuritie, and these tokens that were re∣quired were possible wherevpon 〈◊〉〈◊〉 all his 〈◊〉〈◊〉, he onely called vnto him a certayne 〈…〉〈…〉 knowledge, with whom he so wrought with 〈◊〉〈◊〉, that hee by Magicke found•• the meanes to drawe the

〈…〉〈…〉 Robins. Being by this meanes ayded with all possibilities, he caused the 〈◊〉〈◊〉 to be forged with all expe∣dition, and wounding himselfe vehemently in the thygh, he presently 〈◊〉〈◊〉 vp the same, resoluing by this meanes to de∣ceiue the Emperour, to compasse Emine, and keepe the rem∣nant of his 〈◊〉〈◊〉 in securitie: wherevpon, discouering his pretence vnto his Nobles, and shewing them both his man∣ner and meanes, he armed himselfe, and committed the care of his armie to the charge of his Princes, and so taking his leaue, departed towards the Citie.

How the Souldan entred the Citie of Rome in his disguise, and made his claime to Emine who should haue beene betrothed vnto him, and what miraculous chaunce did therevpon infew.

ONe day and more after his last victorie, the Emperour kept his bed, and viii. dayes continually after inten∣ded quietnes, knowing that the enemie was too much weakned to prouoke him as yet, yet sufficiently able in their trench to worke for their owne defence: it chaunced, that vp∣pon the feast day of S. Peter (a day of great solemnitie in the Citie of Rome) that after the Emperour with his other Prin∣ces had heard the deuine seruice, and bestowed their bountiful almes on the poore, whilst in great pomp the mighty potenta•••• sate in his hall, attended on by a manly trayne of Courtiers. The Souldan entered the Citie in bright and lucid armour, his cre••t replenished and beawti••••ed with a plume of rich fea∣thers, which ouerspreading the back of his milke white Steed in many beawtifull colours, gaue greater beawtie to his horse and himselfe, and in that he was armed after y^• Christian ma∣ner, the first court of gard let him passe. He was a Prince of high maiesty, and wonderfull dexteritie in armes, and with such agility managed he his horse, as all the Citizens be∣gan to maruell, some alleaging this, some muttering that, according to their naturall opinions, and dispositions; but

at such time as he entered the high streete wherein stoode the Emperours pallace, the second court of guard stayed him, and questioning with him what he was, it was answered that hée was the very same knight that had reskewed the Emperour, reléeued Christendom, and deserued Emine, and for that cause he was come according to his Excellencies proclamation to claime his due. The rumour was no sooner spred, nor the word past, but hee was entertained with generall applause of the Souldiers, the Citizens began a festiuall, and all the chiefe Courtiers in magnificent pomp came out to méet him, when being dismounted and brought before the Emperour, after gracious saluations he began thus.

Most mightie and famous Emperour of Rome, since the common voyce throughout Christendome, and report in for∣raine Countries, attributeth as much constancie to thy word, as commendation to thy worthinesse; I haue being a Prince as mightie as thy selfe, and more courteous than thou imagi∣nest, presumed to relie vppon thy promise, and require the ac∣complishment of thy proclamation; I am the man Romane Emperour, that bewitched with the excellent beauties of thy daughter, haue forsaken mine owne friends, to relieue my foes, and haue saued thy life, when thou soughtest my losse, I haue inuested a meane subiect with the estate of a Souldan, and from a Souldan haue I changed my selfe to procure thy safetie; Loue (thou great Potentate) hath made me murther mine own Mercenaries, massacre my natiue friends, yea loue hath so gouerned my affections, that to enioye it I haue ha∣zarded my fortunes: yet is the reward of my trauell so great, and the regarde of Emine so gracious, that were there thou∣sand kingdom•• to aduenture, millions of Souldiers to loose, hosts of friends to forsake, I would leaue them all to betake me to Emine; that I am the man, behold the meanes, the ar∣mour, the horse, beholde the wounds, which thy pursuing Knights inflicted (wherewith hee discouered his thigh) all which yéeld apparant testimony of my approoued towardnes; had this action béen attempted by a stranger of meane estate,

the desert had béen mightie; but being practized by thy 〈◊〉〈◊〉 atchieued by thine equal, how worthie 〈◊〉〈◊〉 I thy 〈…〉〈…〉 The Emperour impatient of delay (his ioy was so accompli∣shed) arose from his royall seate, accompanied with all his Princes, and ca••••ing his armes about his necke began thus. I had not thought ••raue Souldan, that such bountie of mind had remayned in a Barbari••n, to hazard his owne fortune, and to relieue his foe: but since I see by apparant proofe that thy vertue is beyond expectation, and thy deserts approoue thy magnificence, my promise shall bee accomplished, and Emine and this Empyre, these Péeres and mine owne person, shall be at the Souldans commaund, onely great Monarke it be∣houeth thée this, if thou meane to wed a Christian, to become a Christian, which if thou shalt effect, such a league of consan∣guinitie shall be knit betweene vs, as shall concerne thine own safetie, and the 〈◊〉〈◊〉 of both our subiects. The Souldan that accompted no other heauen, than enioying Emine, and rather respected his pleasure, than his profession, voluntarilie condiscended, and in the presence of al the Estates of the Em∣pyre was christened by the Pope, that was at that time there in presence, by the name of Fredericke: great was the solem∣nitie in the pallace, and many the Caresses of the Courtiers: then were Lists set vp, and Trophies erected, and nothing sounded throughout Rome but the marriage of Emine, who vnawares was called for by the Emperour, and certified by signes of his determination. The poore Ladie expecting no∣thing lesse than marriage of him she 〈◊〉〈◊〉, sent out plenti∣full teares, and spent many bitter sighes to the astonishment of her father, and the whole assembly continually poynting at Robert, who in the thickest of the assembly had heard all the ••oloured falsehoods, and smiled at them; but he that rather ha•• care of GOD, than the world, set all pompe and 〈…〉〈…〉 nought, acknowledging his actions to haue been attempted for conscience sake, not promotion. Merueilous was the 〈◊〉〈◊〉 of Emine, whose eye was neuer off of Robert, séem∣ing as though with piteous teares she claimed his protection,

which wrought in him a change of colour, and made him to∣gether with the grieuousnesse of his wound to depart out of the assembly. Emine astonished hereat fell downe in a sound, and being at last dawed after many milde perswasions of her father, alleaging how her repulse was disparagement of his maiestie, she condescended and vouchsafed the accord: great was the ioy of the Souldan, the reioyce of the Souldiers, the content of the Princes, y^• delight of the priuate: in briefe, the day following y^• solemnisation was to be accomplished. The rumour of the Souldans successe was no sooner spred thorow the Campe, but if there were applause in the Citie, there were merueilous triumphs in the Trenches, in such sort as it hap∣peneth among Saylers, who when a bitter storme hath béen past, and their ship in daunger of drowning, forget their olde domage, and reioyce, their late escape: so fared it with these Barbarians, who seeing the farie of warre ceased, the cause of peace commenced, forgot their former broyles, and reioyced at the preseuce of fortunes benefites. In great delight and io∣litie were these Princes conuersant all the day long, and at night with no lesse expectation of pleasure, each one betooke himselfe to his rest; onely Robert who knew the determined day of his penaunce was expired, and sawe that the Princesse Emine did mightely affect him, began to cōceaue some sparks of pitie, gréening that an imp••ous Pagan should enioy such 〈◊〉〈◊〉; and in such sort fared hée, as those that play at the game of Chesse, still preuenting, but alwaies fearing a mate, his minde was wholy addicted to God but the portion of the flesh began to conspire; great was the combat all the night long betwéene hás affections, now of zeale, then of compas∣sion, straight of loue, for there is no generous heart but is ca∣pable of the same, The morning meane while began to push ••oorth her beauties, wéeping her 〈◊〉〈◊〉 swéet 〈◊〉〈◊〉 and pearlie m••ysture on euery tree, plant, and flower in the medowes; the hills were adorned with the golden beames of the Sunne, and Rome inriched with all the beauties of Nations, the spa∣cious galleries 〈…〉〈…〉

pearles, and tissue, euery street was adorned with 〈◊〉〈◊〉, vir∣gins with lampes of siluer with sweete per••umes and odors apparelled in white, with Coronets of pearle, their haire scat∣tered about their bosomes attended for the Bride, and a noyse of melodious musick, accompanied with delicate voices awaked both the Princes that were to be espoused. First en∣tered the Souldan into the great Hall attended with his bra∣uest Musulmahs, so rich & gor••••ous, that the Sunne which beheld them seemed to dazle at their deuises: after entered the Pope with all his Clergie, singing most melodious himmes, when sodainly all the Princes attending, the Emperour mar∣ched forwarde, who twixt himselfe and Pepin of France, (the greatest of crowned Kings) brought faire Emine apparelled like Iuno in all her pompe, and attended with all the beautifull of Europe; Robert among the rest in a newe fooles attyre, was a speciall attendant, and oftentimes his heart earned and his soule sighed to see that another should enioy his title; faine would he haue spoken, but religious zeale closed his lippes: In briefe, when the solemne seruice was accomplished, the Pope in all solemnitie presented himselfe in his Pontificalib•••• to couple these two magnificent Princes together, Emine was brought foorth, the Souldan addressed, the Ceremonies were begun, and the soothfastnesse was to be plighted; when (loe the wonderous workes of almightie GOD) Emine at such time as their handes should haue béen ioyned, violently drewe hers backward, and suspited by diuine prouidence (••••∣ter she had béen 〈◊〉〈◊〉 from her infancie thethert••) she began thus.

Unhallowed Pagan, who to performe thy lust, counter∣feitest Religion, and to attaine my loue, hast coyned a lye; knowe thou that though thou canst dissemble with the world, thou canst not bée hidden from GOD: with what face (〈◊〉〈◊〉 Souldan) canst thou claime anothers right? or intitle thy self to that honour which thy vetters haue deserued? It lyes not in that weake hand to containe such hardines, in that 〈…〉〈…〉

firmnes, couldest thou reach to that honour wanting faith. It was not man (ye Princes) it was no humane power (dread father) but the diuine working of God by the meanes of this supposed Idiot, that gaue vs conquest: This Robert surna∣med (for his wicked life in times past) the Diuell, who hath turned his damned deedes to deuotion, is he that reskewed the Emperour, was armed by mee, was horsed by my com∣mand; and if he be searched, is the very man who was woun∣ded by your Knights; this Souldans armour is magicall, his Stéede infernall, himselfe perfidious; why permit you (Princes) that he who hath soyled his hands in your blouds, should be serued like a Prince of high bountie? Lay handes on him, inflict bonds on him, flay the viper ere he sting, and the Crocodile ere he can deuour. These words were vttered with a confident and bolde spirit, and all the assembly was abashed at this wonder; the Souldan stood as a man that had lost his senses, and the best Romanes began to flocke about Robert. During these miraculous euents, whilest each mans tongue was kept mute with meruaile, the holy Recluse entered the presence (ordayned as it is thought by diuine ordinance) in his hands bare he the true Armour, and about his neck the girdle and sworde, hauing a religious Nouice at his heeles who led the white Steede; who taking Robert by the hand mar∣ched throught the prease, and prostrating himselfe before the Emperour and Pope, began thus. How many waies (you tyes of Christendome) hath God permitted error to supplant the righteous, to the ende that beyond expectation he might expresse his righteousnesse? The lippes that were shut hath he opened, and the things that were hidden hath he reuealed; Patroclus is not Achilles (ye Princes) though he weare his armour, nor the Foxe the Lyon though he weare his skinne, nor the Crowe the king of birds, though hee hath borrowed the feather, nor this Souldan the deseruer, though he hath claimed the title: but most sacred Emperour, this man is the cause of your safetie, Christendom is beholding to this prince, and Normandy famous in this Robert; and that this is hée,

what greater 〈◊〉〈◊〉 (before my God) than Emines testim••∣nie? hath not God giuen her an instrument to open desert, which before time was closed with dumnesse? and that this is hee, what greater proofe than the very Armour, the very Sword, the very Steede, concealed and kept by me for grea∣ter secrecie? Behold the wound, not inforced by a voluntarie stroake as is the Souldans, but by a fauouring hand who la∣boured to discouer him; if therefore trueth being opened, bee preferred before error, and co••digne worthines before impie∣tie and wickednesse, Emperour accept this Prince of Nor∣mandy for thy sonne, who procured thy securitie; for thy kins∣man, who reskewed thy Countrie, so shalt thou performe the duetie of a iust Prince, and be commended for thy prouidence. This sayd, he discouered Roberts th••gh, and presented all the titles of his claime, and crauing priuate conference with him, was permitted to conuerse with him alone in a hidden cham∣ber: meane while the Pallace was in an vprore, and some swords were drawne to assaile the Souldan, who abashed & ashamed at his discouerie, seemed rather a dead than a liues man. But the Emperour who sawe in his lookes the tenour of his loosenes, being a gracious and benigne Prince, withstood the assailants, and after thankes giuen to the heauens, and kinde embrace to Emine, he spake in this manner to the Soul∣dan. Pagan, though it be in my power to cut thee off, it is not my pleasure to vse discourtesse, I see it was fancie that made thee faine, and follie that hath procured thy fall, I know thy estate is desperate, thy souldiers spent, thy Musulmahs dis∣comforted; and in that I disdaine to combate with these who are welny conquered, I pitie thee, and pitying thee grant thy peace: If therefore thou wilt presently depart my Court, di••lodge thy Campe, and leaue Christendome, thou and thine shall enioy both life and libertie, and that for Emines sake; if not, resolue thy selfe to dye, to see thy Nobles destroyed, and the memorie of thy name entirely exterminate and extingui∣shed. The Souldan pondering with himselfe his perilous estate, seeing his loue recureles, and his libertie rechles except

he accepted the opportunitie, answered the Emperour in this sort. If my fancies haue made me foolish, beare with me Em∣perour, more mightie than I haue fallen; for the attainement of Emine if I haue fained, I must now onely repent it, bea∣ring a deepe wound in my thigh, but more woe in my heart: for my life I respect it not, were it not I regard my subiects; for thy bountie I accept it, and will depart Christendome, and so relying on thy word I take my leaue, surrendring thee thy Christianitie, since thou hast here••t me of mine Emine. This sayd, reuiling and exclayming on destinie, the Pagans departed, and tru••••ing vp their baggage shipped themselues, leauing both the siege and Christendome, which was mighti∣ly comforted by their departure.

By this time had the Recluse absolued Robert, and acqui∣ted him of his penaunce, and aduising him to put on a robe of maiestie, he brought him into the great Hall vnto the Empe∣rour, when as kneeling vpon his knee, the braue Norman be∣gan thus. Since my penaunce is performed, and my consci∣ence discharged, (most mightie Emperour) I must acknow∣ledge thy inestimable bountie, who for this seuen yeres space hast maintained me being an abiect in mine own countrie, and ••dious both to God & man: for which bountie if I haue done your maiestie or Christendome any seruice, it was my duetie, who hauing defaulted in my former life time, ought in my re∣conciled yeres to follow honorable actions. The Emperour hearing his graue and wise salutation, seeing him an amiable and comely Prince, embraced him, and lifte•• him vp, replying thus. I thanke my God (braue Norman Prince) that he hath opened truth, to discouer trecherie, & in stead of a Pagan hath recommended my Emine to a Christian, for which cause hold take the honour of my estate, and the hope of her father, take Emine, who by diuine prouidence was ordained for thee, and by right and duetie appertaineth to thee: and in so saying hée caused the Ceremonies of Marriage to bee so∣lemnized betweene them, to the wonderfull reioyce of all

the assistance. Pepin of Fraunce séeing one of his Péeres so fortunate, wept for ioy, neither was there any one Potentate that entertained not Robert with heartie loue and kind••esse; the Empresse reioyced in him, Emine hartely embraced him, and such was the sollace throughout the Citie, as may not be expressed. During these pompous solemnities, the Empe∣rour bethinking him on his promise, caused the Princes to be assembled, where hee inuested Robert with the Emperiall Diadem, proclayming him heire apparant of the Empyre af∣ter his decease. In which pompe and triumph I leaue them, returning a while into Normandy where our Historie be∣gan.

How A••bert hearing no newes of his sonne, after the terme of seauen-yeares dyed, leauing the possession of his Duke∣dome in the hands of Editha and the Lord Villiers, with the lamentable treasons that thereupon ensued.

AVbert the olde Duke of Normandy, after the departure of his haplesse sonne Robert, liued a desolate and discontented life, hearing no cer∣taine notice of his safetie, or securitie, for which cause he tooke such inward thought, that at such time as seauen yeares were ouergone and expired, he gaue vp the ghost, leauing the charge of his Dukedome (till Robert his sonne might bee founde out) in the handes of Editha his Duchesse, and Villiers a Peere of his signorie. At such time as his funerals were fully finished, Villiers sé••ing Editha was a Princesse of a milde and mercifull nature, nothing delighted with troubles, or worldy affayres, tooke vpon him the hand∣ling of all controuersie; and so swéete was the baite of signo∣rie to him, in a short time, that from being an agent for ano∣ther, he began to imagine the meanes how to take the whole possession into his handes: Little suspected hee that Robert was liuing, and as for Editha since she was a woman, he sup∣posed

it an easye matter to supplant her, and her power: for which cause, after many conclusions, and melancholie delibe∣rations, he suborned two false witnesses, who accused the Dutchesse of poysoning her deceased husband, so couloring the accusation with probabilities, and corrupting great men by bribes, that Editha was emprisoned, and after a while adiudged, which was, either within the tearme of a yeare to finde out a Champion to defend her truth, or else to be con∣sumed with fire. The chaste Princesse seeing iniquitie pre∣uaile against equitie, perceiuing the Iudges eares were sh••t, and the great mens toongs silent, and beholding her former friends, how like sommer birds they forsooke her, she cast off all care of life, grounding her selfe vpon her innocencie, and returning to prison, led therein a solitarie and lamentable life, whilst Villiers enioyed the Signiorie. Often and ma∣ny were her complaints, accompanyed with feruent prayers, and diuers times called she to remembrance her former of∣fences, and bethinking her selfe of her sonne, wept bitterly. One day looking out of her prison windowe, (from whence she might beholde the thicke Forrests, and pleasant Meades) she bethought her selfe how wretchedly she had curssed her wombe, and the vnhappie fruites of her tempting God: for which cause, humbling her selfe on her knees, and sheading teares of compassion, she spake thus. O my God, thou art iust, but I iniurious: I tempted thee by vnlawfull cur••••es, thou chastisest me with deserued crueltie: I imputed my barrainesse to thy wrath, not to my wickednesse, and sought helpe from the Fiend, in hope to be fruitfull: this my temp∣ting of thy Maiesty, exempteth me from thy mercie, and my lewd desires are the cause of my lamentable destruction. O Mothers learne by me, let him that made all things, mo∣derate all things: let him that graunteth increase, prefixe the time of increase, except not against his glory, least he ex∣empt you of his goodnes: his delayes are no dalliance, his de∣crées are deuine: since therfore he doth dispose of vs, let vs not oppose our selues against him: O father of mercy pardon my

impietie: let mine innocencie haue rescous, as thou art the God of the righteous: thou that sauedst Susanna succour me; thou that relieuedst Daniel deliuer me: in this sort, and with these sighes, full often and many times did this poore Prin∣cesse bemone her mischiefe, exclaiming on the impietie of her accusers, whilst suspitious Villiers thought euery houre an age, and euery day a yeare, till her dares were determined, yet in outward shewe he b••moned her, visiting her often∣times, presenting her with many delicates, enterprising with all possible industrie to rid himselfe of suspition, and ••buse her simplicitie: diuers of the Princes priuily murmured, sée∣ing his ambition by his behauiour, and his craf•• cloked vn∣der curtesie, but as times haue their reuolutions, so truthes are discouered, which shall manifestly appeare by the sequeale that in••ueth, wherein it is euidently prooued, that God neuer fa••leth those who put their trust in his mercie.

How Robert after he was inuested in the Empire, heard of his Fathers death, and departed to take vpon him his Dukedome, accompanyed with Emine his Empresse, and Pepin of Fraunce, with other Princes.

VVHen Robert surnamed Deuill, had in this sort attained to the Monarchie, enioying the tipe of worlds felicitie, wherewith ambitious mindes are greatly delighted, yet shewed he himselfe to be so farre estranged from vaineglory, that he wholy attributed his good fortunes to the deui••e Maiestie: his delight was to conuerse with holie men; his studie the heauenly doctrine, he entertayned Hermits with great deuotion, and Pilgrims re∣ceiued great presents at his hands: in this sort remained h•• beloued of his equals, and honored of his subiects, ••ffected by the Emperour, fancied by Emine, till a desire tooke him to re∣uisit his owne Countrey, & conuerse with his owne friends, and ••o to the f••••therance hereof, how occasion ministred it selfe. It chanced at such time as all the Christian Princes

prepare to make returne into the Countries, in that y^• warres were finished, that Pepin had certayne letters sent vnto him, whereby hee vnderstoode of the decease of Aubert, and the estate of the Du••hy, which he imparted with Robert, whose sodayne sorrow caused the whole Court to be detayned with disco••tent. In briefe, his heart so earned at the slender and weake estate of his natiue Countrey, that at last he attayned licence from the Emperour, to goe visite the same: Emine likewise was permitted to accompany him, with many other great Lords, so when all things were in a readynesse, hee tooke his leaue of the Emperour, who with entire affec∣tion, and tender fauour, embraced both his Sonne and Daughter, recommending them to the safeco••duit of the Almightie, and King Pepin, who accompanyed them: and so long they trauayled with gracious entertaynement in all great Cities, that at last they arriued on the frontires of Normandie, when as Robert bethinking him of his Fa∣thers, losse, began to weepe, whome Emine comforted with many amiable consolations, and Pepin perswaded with sound and sage reasons. They had not long trauayled, but they met a Damosell galloping in great haste, and lamen∣ting so piteously, that it greeued the beholders: aged shee was, yet goodly of personage: and being earnest in her hast, would haue ouerpassed the Princesse, had not Robert stayed her, demaunding the cause of that her so great expedition. O Prince (sayd she) for no lesse thou seemest, hinder not my haste, least thou harme an innocent: for why, my let is the losse of such a 〈◊〉〈◊〉, who hath not her equall in the world for vertue▪ yet shortly is like to perish through treason and villanie. Robert knowing her countenance, questioned fur∣ther, and his minde perswaded him, that the cause neerely touched 〈◊〉〈◊〉, as in sooth it afterwards prooued, for the Lady ripped vp vnto him the whole discourse of Edithas imprison∣mēt, her ••ccusatiō for poisoning her husband, y^• subtil & malig∣na••t insinuatiōs of Villiers, neither pret••rmitted she any thing

that might concerne his Mistresse, or moue affection: she tould how his Ladie was adiudged to death within three dayes, if she found not a Champion, (for onely three dayes remayned of the yeare) she declared the earnest haste of the accusers, and concluded thus: Now noble Prince, since thou knowest the cause of my trauaile; if courage serue thee in the attempt, O be forward, and helpe the forsaken, for more noble canst thou not fight for, more gratious canst thou not aduenture for: but if thou preferre thy reioyce before iustice, pleasure before prowesse, and beare the name of a Knight, but not the nature, O stay me not, stay me not good Prince, I will seeke out Pepins Court of Fraunce, where are valiant Knights and vertuous, sterne in rigor, studious of right; who if they forsake this cause, are worthie to enter∣taine none. This discourse finished she with aboundant teares, neither was there any in the company so hard harted, who be wept not Edithas miserie. Robert inflamed with dis∣pleasure, replied thus: Lady, thou hast found a Champion, seeke no further, heare is Pepin to allow him, and a Prin∣cesse to appoint him: this sayd, he in priuate conferred with the King of Fraunce and Emine, desiring them to take easye iourneys, whilst he and the messenger intended the safetie of Editha: the request was so reasonable, that it was quickly graunted him▪ wherevpon he tooke his horsse and armour, and trauailed with the auncient Lady, resoluing himselfe in euery respect of that he suspected: yet concealed he him∣selfe, though she required his name verie earnestly, and ta∣king vp his lodging neere the Citie of Roane, he charged the Lady to goe and comfort her Mistresse, assuring her that she had a Champion that either would dye or acquite her. The Lady was not ••••ack to accomplish his commaund, but so schooled her Mistresse by comfortable admonitions, that she who before times was altogether comfortlesse, be∣gan to gather some consolation. And now the prefixed day was arriued, when Villiers desirous to effect his pretended tirannie, had erected an ample and faire Listes in the chiefest

and fairest playne adioyning to Roan, building sumptuous Scaffolds for the Iudges, prouiding place of audience for the prisoner, leauing nothing vnsought for, that pertayned to that tragedie: and at such time as the assembly of estates was set, he brought foorth the Champion, a kinsman of his owne, well instructed in armes, and resolued in the complot of treason. This braue Caualier ritchly mounted, bonded his horsse before the iudgement seate, offering to doo his de••oire toward the approbation of the Dutchesse treacherie. Then was the prisoner called for, where Editha carying in her lookes the badge of modestie; in her behauiour the courage of a Matron; apparrailed in black Ueluet, and couered with a vaile of black Tissue, ascended her Scaffold, attended by all the chiefe Ladyes of Normandie, who to testifie their me∣lancholie, were in like manner attyred mournefully. After that Editha had done her obedience to the Iudges & Estate, she was demaunded for her Champion, who returned this answere. It is extreame iniurie, and no iustice (you Fa∣thers) when Princes shalbe condemned like priuate persons, without respect of their Maiestie, or regard of their accusers: for otherwise was Auberts hope (ye Lords) who appoynted me to commaund you, and not to be condemned by you: but dutie I perceiue was buried with him, and those that hono∣red him in his life time, it was not for loue, but in hope to get liuing. I am accused for poysoning Aubert, ye Peeres, and you your selues were eye witnesses of his naturall death, when no signe of treason, no token of violent death, ••ppeared either before his death, or after his departure. Had he taken potions, they should haue wrought, but you knowe there was no violence in his pangs, but euen the infirmitie of age that fashioned him to his graue. But you will say there are wit∣nesses, and what alledge they? forsooth that I bought poy∣son, but of whome? that I tempered poison, but where? that I ministred poyson, but when? were you as forward to exa∣mine circumstances, as you are affected to listen to com∣plaints, you would blush either at your wilfull blindnesse, or

••ndeserued malice. But be it as you pretend, adiudge me to the fire, yet shal I dye innocent; call me murtheresse, I know I am innocent; for my Champion, I haue not sought him, but God hath sent him: if he come not at the summons, let my 〈◊〉〈◊〉 be consumed, this is the aime of mine enemie, and the worst of your enuie. This conclusion she vetered with confi∣dent boldnesse, insomuch as Villiers blushed, and some of the Peeres began to suspect him: well, the summons was soun∣ded according to order, and braue Robert of Normandie boldly entered the Listes, offering to aduenture his life in the behalfe of Editha. Great was the ioy of all the Ladyes, to see so goodly a Knight enterprise the Dutchesse right, and Editha in thought seemed to claime some part of him: but leauing tedious circumlocutions, this in briefe was the effect of the matter, the Champions were sworne, and the Iudges ap∣poynted, and after sound of Trumpet, and Proclamation, the Combate was commenced. Great was the courage of the accuser, but greater the constancie of the defendant, the one fought for money, the other fought for his Mother, the one tru••••ed to his force, the other to his faith, the one fought with feare, the other with confidence, in briefe, the one no lesse animated by amitie, than the other emboldned by equitie, after theyr Launces were broken, they betooke them to theyr Swoords, where (after some small resist) Robert lent his aduersarie such a stroke, that he cut off his right arme, and killed his Horsse, and nimbly buckling himselfe vnto his enemie, who prepared to flye, rent off his Helmet fro•• his head, and rudely casting him on the earth, com∣maunded him either to discouer the truth, or hee was but dead. It is woonderfull to see the affection of faithfull Com∣mons to their naturall Princesse, for no sooner was the ap∣pealant ouerthrowne, but they all with common voyc•• cryed out, God saue Editha our true Princesse and inno∣cent. Villiers was abashed, and descending from the iudge∣ment seate, sought meanes verie politiquelie to make away

the vanquished, before the villanie were discouered: but Robert preuented the same, for menacing him that was in his daunger with present death, hee in open assemblye discouered the Treason, the Complot of Villiers for the Dukedome, leauing nothing vntouched, that might mani∣fest the Dutchesse innocencie. This his confession so mo∣ued Robert, that taking Villiers by the heare of the head, hee drewe him to the Iudgement seate, causing the Es∣cheu••s of Roan to lay holde on hym, when mounting vp the Scaffold where the Princesse sate, hee tooke her by the hand, and conducted ••r to the chiefest seate of Iudge∣ment, and opening his Beauer, hee humbling himselfe on his knee, spake thus;

Though my vnworthinesse before times (most gratious Dutchesse, and curteous Mother) deserue not the sight of so reuerent a person, yet acknowledging my faultes, and beseeching your fauour, beholde your Sonne Robert (for his wickednesse before times surnamed the Deuill) now humblie prostrate before you in all du••tie: though I haue béen a corosiue to you in your youth, behol••e, God hath left mee to be a comfort to you in your age: Reioyce (Madame) and as appertayneth to you, punish this Tray∣tor according to his demerits. And you vnnaturall Nor∣mans, that neglecting duetie, haue affected doublenesse, growe ashamed at your follyes, and confesse your faults, who haue countenan••ed a Traytor, and contemned your Soueraigne. Editha deuoured in ioy, in stead of reply, fell vppon his neck in a sound, and with such entyre affection embraced him, that it was thought that both their bodyes were vnited together with a mutuall simpathie of affecti∣ons: and after she was reuiued a little, stealing a long kisse from his lips, she began thus. And art thou yet liuing my Sonne, or are mine eyes deceiued? Yea thou liuest my Sonne, for nature tells me so, planting such a ioy in my heart to sée thée, as I neuer had so great will to sigh for thée.

Oh the fruite of my wombe, and the comfort of thy father, had Aubert liued to behold thee my sonne, to haue seene thy wilde ••alliance exchaunged to wise discourse; thy fond behauiour, to affable benignitie, thy diuellishnes to discretion; oh the ioy, oh the sollace; but hee from heauen beholdeth thee, and I on earth embrace thee. The Péeres and Ladies cut off her fur∣ther discourse, each one presenting him homage and humble salute: whereupon taking Editha with him, and placing her on the right hand, he with great grauitie ascended the Iudg∣ment seate, and spake thus to all the assemblie. Were I as insolent, as I haue béen accustomed (my countrimen) neither would I ascend the place of Iudgement, nor condiscend to administer Iustice: but since God hath humbled my heart, and altered my affects, and made you happie, in calling mée home, hearken to me my Subiects, and consider on my say∣ings: If absence alter not heritage, as it cannot, and forget∣fulnesse chaunge not dueties, as it should not, you ought yee Normans to acc••mpt me for your Lord, and accompanie my care for you, with your loue towardes mee: and for this loue and duetie you imploy on mee, I must leuell out and deuise meanes to preserue you, which can no better bee administred but by iustice, which ordereth all things with so determined iudgement, that the good are maintained for their goodnesse, and the bad punished for their iniustice: Since therefore in the entrance of my gouernment I finde cockle that hath cho∣ked the corne, weedes that haue ouergrowne the herbes, and peruerse mē who haue inuerted policie, I will take the sword in hand like a commaunder, and roote out this cockle from the corne, these weedes from the herbes, these rebells from the righteous, that the good may better flourish, and the bad stand in more feare; for which cause (ye Normans) since it is con∣fessed, and approoued, that Villiers with his competitors, haue conspired against the Ladie Duchesse my mother, our will is that they perish in the same fire they prouided for the faultles, and suffer the same punishment they ordained for the innocent. All the whole people applauded his righteous iudgement,

and iustice was orderly executed, whilest each one meruailed at his excellencie and wisedome. After then that he had recea∣ued homage of the Péeres, and was inuested in the Duke∣dome, at such time as hee was entering Roan with his Ladie mother, the King Pepin with faire Emine richly accompanied presented themselues; great was the gratulations twixt Pe∣pin and Editha, who courted her in this manner. Madame, though your sonne Robert departed from you a rebell, hée is returned in royaltie, being not only Prince of Normandy, but Emperour of Rome, this his Ladie and wife, these his follo∣wers and welwishers; so is your sorrowe paied home at last with great sollace, and the griefe you haue endured requi••ed with gladnesse. Editha when she heard these tydings was ra∣uished with ioy, humbly entertayning Emine, and honouring her sonne; great was the triumph in Normandy for the liber∣tie of the Duchesse, the returne of the Duke, and after long and festiuall sollace, Pepin receaued homage and fealtie for the Duchie, and returned to Paris in great pompe: Robert, Emine, and Editha remained in Roan, till afterwards being called to Rome vpon the decease of the Emperour, he became of an irreligious person, the onely royall paragon of the world.