The second tome of the Palace of pleasure conteyning store of goodly histories, tragicall matters, and other morall argument, very requisite for delighte and profit. Chosen and selected out of diuers good and commendable authors: by William Painter, clerke of the ordinance and armarie. Anno. 1567.

A Lady of Boeme

¶ Two Barons of 〈◊〉〈◊〉 assuring them selues to ob∣taine their sute made to a faire Ladie of 〈◊〉〈◊〉, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 of hir a straunge and maruellous repulse, to their great shame and infamie, curssyng the time that euer they aduentured an enterprise so foolish.

The. xxviij. Nouel.

P Enelope, the wofull wife of absent Vlis∣ses, in hir tedious lōging for the home returne of that hir aduèturous knight, assailed wyth care∣full hearte amidde the troupe of amo∣rous suters, and within the bowels of hir royal palace, deserued no greter fame for hir valiāt encountries & stoute defense of the inuincible and A∣damante forte of hir chastitie, than thys Boeme Ladie

〈◊〉〈◊〉 by resisting two mighty barons, that canoned the walles and well mured rampart of hir pudicitie. For being threatned in his Princes courte, whether all the well trained crew of eche science and profession, dydde make repaire, beyng menaced by Venus bande, whiche not onely summoned hir forte, and gaue hir a camisa∣do by thick AP Armes, but also forced the place by fierce assaulte, she like a couragious and politike captaine, gaue those braue and lustie souldiers, a fowle repulse, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 in ende taking them captines, vrged them for their victuals to fall to womans toyle, more shamefull than shamelesse Sardanapalus amidde his amorous troupe.

I néede not aggrauate by length of preamble, the fame of this, Boeme Lady, nor yet 〈◊〉〈◊〉 recoūt the triumph hir victorie: vayne it were also by glorious hymnes to chaunt the wisedome of hir beleuyng Make, who not carelesse of hir lyfe, employed hys care to serue hys Prince, and by seruice at chieued the cause that draue him to a souldiers state. But yet for trustlesse faith in the prime conference of his future porte, he consulted with Pollaco, for a compounded drugge, to ease his sus∣pect minde, whiche medicine so eased his maladie, as it not onely preserued him from the infected humour, but also made him happie for euer. Such fall the euentes of valiant mindes, though many times mother iealosie y^t 〈◊〉〈◊〉 wytch steppeth in hir foote to anoy the wel dis∣posed heart. For had he ioyned to his valiaunce credite of his louing wife, without the blinde aduise of such as professe that blacke and lying science, double glorie hée had gained: once for endeuoring by seruice to séeke ho∣nour: the seconde, for absolute truste in hir, that ne∣uer ment to beguile him, as by hir firste aunswere to his first motion appeareth. But what is to be obiected against the Barons? Let them answere for their fault,

in this discourse ensuing: whiche so lessoneth all no∣ble myndes, as warely they oughte to beware howe they aduenture vppon the honoure of Ladies, who bée not altogether of one selfe and yeldyng trampe, but well 〈◊〉〈◊〉 and steeled in the shamefast shoppe of loy∣altie, which armure defendeth them against the fonde skirmishes and vnconsidred conflicts of Venus wanton band. The maiesties also of y^e King and Quéene, are to be aduaunced aboue the starrs for their wise dissuasion of those noble men from their hot & hedlesse enterprise and then their iustice for due execution of their forfait, the particularitie of which discourse in this wyse doth begynne.

Mathie Coruine sometime kyng of Hungaric, aboute the yeare of oure Lorde. 1458. was a valiant man of warre, and of goodly personage. He was the first that was famous, or feared of the Turks, of any prince that gouerned that kingdome. And amongs other his 〈◊〉〈◊〉 so well in armes and letters, as in liberality and curtesie he excelled all that raigned in his time. He had to wife Quéene Beatrice of Arragon, the daughter of olde 〈◊〉〈◊〉, kyng of Naples, and sister to the mo∣ther of Alphonsus, Duke of Ferrara, who in learnyng, good conditions, and al other vertues generally disper∣sed in hir, was a surpassing Princesse, & she wed hirself not onely a curteous & liberall Gentlewoman to king Mathie hir husband, but to al other, that for vertue sée∣med worthy of honour and reward: in such wise as to the court of these two noble princes, repaired the most notable men of al nations that wer giuen to any kind of good exercise, and euery of them according to theyr desert and degrée were welcomed and entertained. It chaunced in this time, that a knight of 〈◊〉〈◊〉, the vas∣sall of King Mathie, for that he was likewise king of

that countrey, borne of a noble house, very valiant and well exercised in armes, fel in loue with a passing faire Gentlewoman of like nobilitie, and reputed to be the 〈◊〉〈◊〉 of all the countrey, and had a brother that was but a poore Gentleman, not luckie to the goods of for∣tune. This Boemian knight was also not very rich, ha∣uing onely a castle, with certaine reuenues 〈◊〉〈◊〉, which wer 〈◊〉〈◊〉 able to yeld vnto him any gret main∣tenance of liuing. Fallyng in loue then with this faire Gentlewoman, he demaūded hir in mariage of hir bro∣ther, & with hir had but a very litle dowrie. And thys knight not wel forseeing his poore estate, broughte his wife home to his house, & there, at more leisure cōside∣ring y^t same, begā to fele his lack & penurie, & how hard∣ly & scant his reuenues wer able to maintein his port. He was a very honest & gentle person, & one that deli∣ted not by any meanes to burden & fine his tenants, cō∣tenting himself with y^e reuenue whiche his auncesters left him, the same amounting to no great yerely rent. Whē this gentlemā perceiued y^t he stode in nede of ex∣traordinarie reliefe, after many & diuers cōsiderations with himself, he purposed to folow the court, & to serue king Mathie his souerain lord & master, there by his di∣ligence & experience, to seke meanes for abilitie to su∣stain his wife & him self. But so great & feruent was y^t loue that he bare vnto his lady, as he thought it impos∣sible for him to liue one houre 〈◊〉〈◊〉 hir, & yet iudged it not best to haue hir with him to y^e court, for auoiding of further charges 〈◊〉〈◊〉 to courting ladies, whose delite 〈◊〉〈◊〉 plesure resteth in the toys & tricks of y^e same, y^t cānot he wel auoided in poore gētlemē, without their names in the Mercers or Drapers Iornals, a heauy thing for them to consider if for their disport they like to walk y^t stretes. The daily thinking thervpon, brought y^t poore

Gentlemā to great sorow & heauinesse. The lady that was yong, wise & discrete, marking y^e maner of hir hus∣band, feared y^t he had some 〈◊〉〈◊〉 of hir. Wherfore vpon a day she thus said vnto him:

Dere husband, wil∣lingly wold I wish & desire a good turne at your hand, if I wist I should not displease you. Demaund what you will (said the knight) if I can I wil gladly performe it, bicause I doe estéeme your satisfaction, as I doe mine owne lyfe.

Then the Ladie very sobrely prayde hym, that he wold open vnto hir the cause of that disconten∣ment, whiche he shewed outwardly to haue, for that hys mynde and behauiour séemed to be contrary to or∣dinarie custome, & contriued day and night in fighes, a∣uoidyng the companie of them that were wont speci∣ally to delight him. The Knight hearing his ladies re∣quest, paused a while, and then sayd vnto hir:

My wel∣beloued wyfe, for so much as you desire to vnderstand my thoughte and mynde, and whereof it commeth that I am so sad and pensife, I will tell you: All the heauy∣nesse wherwith you sée me to be affected, dothe tend to this ende. Fayne would I deuise that you and I, may in honour lyue together, according to our calling. For in respect of our parentage, our liuelode is very poore, the occasion whereof were our parentes, who morga∣ged their lands, & consumed a great part of their goods that our auncesters left them. I daily thinkyng here∣vpon, and conceiuing in my head diuers imaginations, can deuise no meanes but one, y^t in my 〈◊〉〈◊〉 séemeth best, which is, y^t I go to the Court of our souerain lord Mathie, who at this present is inferring warrs vpon y^e Turk, at whose hāds I do not mistrust to receiue good 〈◊〉〈◊〉, being a most liberal prince, and one that estemeth al such as be valiant and actiue. And I for my parte will so gouerne my selfe (by Gods grace) that

by deserte I will procure suche lyuyng and 〈◊〉〈◊〉, as hereafter we may liue in our olde dayes a quiet life to our great stay and comfort: For although Fortune hitherto hath not fauored that state of parētage, wher∣of we be, I doubt not with noble courage to win that in despite of Fortunes teeth, whiche obstinately hy∣therto shée hath denied. And the more assured am I of thys determination, bycause at other tymes, I haue serued vnder the Lorde Vaiuoda in Transsyluania, against the Turk, where many times I haue bene re∣quired to serue also in the Courte, by that honora∣ble Gentleman, the Counte of Cilia. But when I dyd consider the beloued companie of you (dere wife) the swéetest companion that euer wyght didde 〈◊〉〈◊〉, I thought it vnpossible for mée to forbeare your presence, whych if I should do, I were worthy to su∣stayne that dishonour, which a great number of care∣lesse Gentlemen doe, who followyng their priuate gayne and will, abandon their yong and faire wyues, neglecting the fyre whyche Nature hath instilled to the delicate bodyes of suche tender creatures. Fea∣ring therwithall, that so soone as I shoulde depart, the lustie yong Barons and Gentlemen of the countrey woulde pursue the gayne of that loue, the price wher∣of I doe esteme aboue the crowne of the greatest em∣perour in all the worlde, and woulde not forgoe for all the riches and precious Iewels in the fertile soilt of Arabie, who no doubte woulde 〈◊〉〈◊〉 together in greater heapes than euer dydde the wowers of Pe∣nelope, wythin the famouse graunge of Ithaca, the house of wanderynge Vlisses. Whyche pursuite yf they dydde attayne, I shoulde for euer hereafter bée ashamed to shew my face before those that be of valour and regarde. And this is the whole effect of the scruple

(〈◊〉〈◊〉 wife) that hindreth me, to séeke for our better estate and fortune.

When he had spoken those woords, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 held his peace. The Gentlewoman which was wise and stout, perceiuing the great loue that hir husbande bare hir, when he had stayed himselfe from talke, with good and mery countenaunce answered hym in thys wise:

Sir Vlrico (which was the name of the Gentle∣man) I in like manner as you haue done, haue deuised and thought vpon the Nobilitie and birth of our aunce∣stors, from whose state and port (and that without our fault and crime) we be farre wide and deuided. Not∣withstanding I determined to set a good face vpon the matter, and to make so much of our painted sheath as I could. In déede I confesse my self to be a woman, and you men do say that womens hearts be faint I féeble: but to be plaine with you, the contrary is in me, my heart is so stoute and ambitious, as paraduenture not méete and consonāt to power and abilitie, although we women will finde no lacke if our hearts haue pith and strength inough to beare it out. And faine wold I sup∣port the state wherin my mother maintained me. Now be it for mine owne part (to God I yeld the thanks) I can so moderate and stay my little great heart, that cō∣tented and satisfied I can be, with that which your abi∣litie can beare, and pleasure commaund. But to come to the point, I say that debating with my selfe of our state as you ful wisely do, I doe verily thinke that you being a yong Gentleman, lusty and valiant, no better remedy or deuise can be found, than for you to aspire & séeke the Kings fauor and seruice. And it must néedes rise and redounde to your gaine and preferment, for that I heare you say the Kings maiestie doeth alrea∣dye knowe you. Wherefore I doe suppose that his grace (a skilfull Gentleman to way and estéeme the

vertue & valor of eche man) cannot choose but 〈◊〉〈◊〉 & recompense the wel doer to his singular cōtentation & comfort. Of this mine opinion I durst not before this time vtter word or signe for feare of your displeasure. But now sith your self hath opened y^e way & meanes, I haue presumed to discouer y^e same, do what shal séeme best vnto your good pleasure. And I for my parte, al∣though y^t I am a womā (accordingly as I said euē now) tha thy nature am desirous of honor, & to shew my self abrode more rich and sumptuous than other, yet in re∣spect of our fortune, I shal be cōtented so long as I liue to continue with you in this our Castle, where by the grace of God I will not faile to serue, loue, and obey you, and to kéepe your house in that moderate sorte, as the reuenues shall be able to maintaine the same. And no doubt but that poore liuing we haue orderly vsed, shal be sufficient to finde vs two, and. v. or. 〈◊〉〈◊〉. seruants with a couple of horsse, and so to liue a quiet and mery life. If God doe send vs any children, til they come to lawfull age, we will with our poore liuing bring them vp so well as we can, and then to prefer them to some Noble mennes seruices, with whome by Gods grace they may acquire honoure and liuing, to kéepe them in their aged dayes. And I doe trust that we two shall vse such mutuall loue, and reioyce, that so long as our life doeth last in wealth and woe, our contented mindes shal rest satisfied. But I waying the stoutnesse of your minde, doe know that you estéeme more an ounce of honor, than all the golde that is in the world. For as your birth is Noble, so is your heart and stomacke. And therefore many times séeing your great heaui∣nesse, and manifolde muses and studies, I haue won∣dred with my selfe whereof they should procéede, and amongs other my conceits, I thought that either my

behauior and order of dealing, or my personage did not like you: or else that your wonted gentle minde and disposition had bene altered and transformed into some other Nature: many times also I was content to thinke that the cause of your disquiet minde, did rise vpon the disuse of armes wherein you were wont daily to accustome your self amongs the troups of the honourable, a company in déede moste worthy of your presence. 〈◊〉〈◊〉 many times these and such like cogitations, I haue sought meanes by such louing al∣lurements as I could deuise, to ease and mitigate your troubled minde, and to withdrawe the great impietie and care where with I saw you to be affected. Bicause I doe estéeme you aboue all the world, déeming your onely griefe to be my double paine, your aking finger, a 〈◊〉〈◊〉 feuerfit, and the least woe you can sustaine most bitter death to me, that loueth you more dearely than my selfe. And for that I doe perceiue you are de∣termined to serue our Noble King, the sorowe which without doubt will assaile me by reason of your ab∣sence, I will swéeten and lenifie with contentation, to sée your commendable desire appeased and quiet. And the pleasant memorie of your valiant factes shall beguile my penfife thoughts, hoping our next méeting shal be more ioyful thā this our disiunction & departure heauy. And where you doubt of y^t confluence & repair of the dishonest which shal attempt the winning & subdu∣ing of mine heart & vnspotted body hitherto inuiolably kept from y^t touch of any person, cast from you y^t feare, expel frō your minde that fonde conceit: for death shall sooner close these mortall eyes, than my chastitie shall be defiled. For pledge wherof. I haue none other thing to giue, but my true and simple faith, which if you dare trust, it shall héereafter appeare so firme & inuiolable,

as no sparke of suspition shall enter your carefull minde, which I may well terme to be carefull, bicause some care before hand doth rise of my behauior in your absence. The triall whereof shall yelde sure euidence and testimony, by passing my careful life which I may with better cause so terme, in your absence that God knoweth wil be right 〈◊〉〈◊〉 and carefull vnto me, who ioyeth in nothing else but in your welfare. Neuerthe∣lesse all meanes and wayes shall be agreable vnto my minde for your assurance, and shal breede in me a won∣derfull contentation, which lusteth after nothing but your satisfaction. And if you list to close me vp in one of the Castell towers till your returne, right glad I am there to cōtinue an Ankresse life: so that the same may ease your desired minde.

The Knight with great delite gaue eare to the an∣swer of his wife, and when she had ended hir talke, he began to say vnto hir:

My welbeloued, I doe like wel and greatly commende the stoutnesse of your heart, it pleaseth me greatly to sée y^e same agreable vnto mine. You haue lightened the same frō inestimable woe, by vnderstāding your conceiued purpose and determina∣tion to garde & preserue your honor, praying you ther∣in to perseuere still remembring that when a woman hath lost hir honor, she hath forgone the chiefest iewell she hath in this life, and deserueth no lōger to be called woman. And touching my talke proposed vnto you, al∣though it be of great importaunce, yet I meane not to depart so soone. But if it doe come to effect I assure thée wife, I will leaue thée Lady and mistresse of all that I haue. In the meane time I will consider better of my businesse, and consult with my friends and kinsmen, and thē determine what is best to be done. Till which time let vs liue & spend our time so merely as we can.

To be short, there was nothing that so much molested the Knight, as the doubt he had of his wife, for that she was a very fine and faire yong Gentlewoman: And therefore he still deuised and imagined what assurance be might finde of hir behauior in his absence. And re∣sting in this imagination, not long after it came to passe that the Knight being in company of diuers Gen∣tlemen, and talking of sundry matters, a tale was told what chaunced to a gentleman of the Countrey which had obtained the fauoure and good will of a woman, by meanes of an olde man called Pollacco, which had the name to be a famous enchaunter and Physitian, dwel∣ling at Cutiano a Citie of Boeme, where plenty of siluer Mines and other mettals is. The knight whose Castle was not farre from Cutiano, had occasion to repaire vn∣to that Citie, and according to his desire found out Pol∣lacco, which was a very olde mā, and talking with him of diuers things, perceiued him to be of great skill. In end he entreated him, that for so much as he had done pleasure to many for 〈◊〉〈◊〉 of their loue, he wold also instruct him, how he might be assured that his wife did kéepe hir self honest all the time of his absence, and that by certaine signes he might haue sure knowledge whether she brake hir faith, by sending his honesly in∣to Cornwall. Such vain trust this Knight reposed in the lying Science of Sorcery, which although to many o∣ther is found deceitfull, yet to him serued for sure eui∣dence of his wiues sidelitie. This Pollacco which was a very cunning enchaunter as you haue hard, sayd vn∣to him:

Sir you demaund a very straūge matter, such as where with neuer hitherto I haue bene acquainted, ne yet searched the depthe of those hidden secretes, a thing not commonly sued for, ne yet practised by me. For who is able to make assurance of a womans cha∣stitie,

or tel by signes except he were at the déede doing, that she hath done amisse? Or who can gaine by proc∣tors wryt, to summon or sue a sprituall Court, per∣emptorily to affirme by neuer so good euidence or te∣stimony, y^t a woman hath hazarded hir honesty, except he sweare Rem to be in Re, which the greatest 〈◊〉〈◊〉 that euer Padua bred, neuer sawe by processe duely tried? Shall I then warrant you the honesty of such 〈◊〉〈◊〉 cattell prone and ready to lust, easy to be van∣quished by the suites of earnest pursuers? But blame worthy surely I am, thus generally to speake: for some I know, although not many, for whose pore honesties I dare aduenture mine owne. And yet that number howe small so euer it be, is worthy all due reuerence and honoure. Notwithstanding. (bicause you séeme to be an honest Gentleman) of that knowledge which I haue, I will not be greatly 〈◊〉〈◊〉. A certaine se∣crete experiment in déede I haue, wherwith perchaūce I may satisfie your demaunde. And this is it. I can by mine Arte in small time, by certaine compositions, frame a womans Image, which you continually in a little boxe may carry about you, and so ofte as you list beholde the same. If the wife doe not breake hir mari∣age faith, you shall still sée the same so faire and wel co∣loured as it was at the first making, & séeme as though it newly came from the painters shop, but if perchaūce she meane to abuse hir honesty, the same wil waxe pale, and in déede committing that filthy facte, sodainely the colour wil be black, as arayed with cole or other 〈◊〉〈◊〉, the smel wherof wil not be very plesāt: but at al times when she is attempted or pursued, the colour wil be so yealow as gold.

This maruellous secrete deuise great∣ly pleased the Knight, verely beleuing the same to be true, specially much moued & assured by y^e fame bruted abrode of his science, wherof y^e Citizens of 〈◊〉〈◊〉 told

very strange & incredible things. When the price was paid of this precious iewel, he receiued y^e Image, & ioy∣fully returned home to his castle, wher tarying certain dayes, he determined to repair to y^t Court of the glori∣ous king Mathie, making his wife priuy to his intent. Afterwards whē he had disposed his houshold matters in order, he cōmitted y^t gouernment therof to his wife, & hauing prepared all necessaries for his voyage, to the great sorow & griefe of his beloued, he departed & arri∣ued at Alba Regale, where that time the King lay with Quéene Beatrix his wife: of whom he was ioyfully re∣ceiued & entertained. He had not long continued in the Court, but he had obtained & won the fauor & good will of all men. The King (which knew him full well) very honorably placed him in his court, & by him accōplished diuers and many waighty affaires, which very wisely and trustely he brought to passe according to the kings mind & pleasure. Afterwards he was made Colonel of a certaine nūber of footemen sent by y^e king against the Turks to defend a holde which the enimies of God begā to assaile vnder y^e conduct of Mustapha Basca, which cō∣duct he so wel directed, & therin stoutly behaued himself, as he chased al y^e Infidels out of those coastes, winning therby y^t name of a most valiant soldier & prudent cap∣tain. Whereby he meruellously gained y^e fauor & grace of the king, who (ouer and besides his daily intertaine∣ment) gaue vnto him a Castle, and the Reuenue in fée farme for euer. Such rewards deserue all valiāt men, which for the honor of their Prince & countrey do wil∣lingly imploy their seruice, worthy no dout of great re∣gard & cherishing, vpō their home returne, bicause they hate idlenesse to win glory, deuising rather to spēd hole dayes in field, than houres in Courte, which this wor∣thy Knight deserued, who not able to sustaine his pore estate, by politik wisdō & prowesse of armes endeuored

to serue his Lord and countrey, wherin surely he made a very good choise. Then he deuoutly serued and prai∣sed God, for that he put into his minde such a Noble enterprise, trusting daily to atchieue greater fame and glory: but the greater was his ioy and contentation, bicause the image of his wife inclosed within a boxe, which still he caried about him in his pursie, continued freshe of coloure without any alteration. It was noy∣sed in the Court, that this valiant Knight Vlrico, had in Boeme the fairest and goodliest Lady to his wife that liued either in Boeme or Hungarie. It chaūced as a cer∣taine company of yong Gentlemen in the Court were together, (amongs whome was this Knighte) that a 〈◊〉〈◊〉 Earon sayd vnto him:

How is it possible syr 〈◊〉〈◊〉, being a yeare and a half since you departed out of Boeme, that you haue no minde to returne to sée your wife, who as the common fame reporteth, is one of the goodliest women of all the Countrey: truely it séemeth to me, that you care not for hir, which were great pitie if hir beautic be correspondent to hir fame. Syr (quod Vlrico) what hir beautie is I referre vnto the worlde, but how so euer you estéeme me to care of hir, you shall vnderstande that I doe loue hir, and will doe so during my life. And the cause why I haue not visited hir of lōg time, is no little proofe of the great assurance I haue of hir vertue and honest life. The argument of hir vertue I proue, for that she is contented that I shold serue my Lord and king, and sufficient it is for me to giue hir in∣telligence of my state and welfare, which many times by letters at opportunitie I faile not to doe: the proofe of my Faith is euident by reason of my bounden duety to our soueraigne Lord of whome I haue receiued so great and ample benefits, and the warfare which I vse in his graces seruice in the frontiers of his Realme a∣gainst

the enimies of Christ, whereunto I beare more good wil than I doe to wedlocke loue, preferring duety to Prince before mariage, albeit my wiues faythe and constācy is such, as fréely I may spend my life without care of hir deuoir, being assured that besides hir beauty she is wise, vertuous and honest, and loueth me aboue all worldly things, tendring me so dearely as she doth the balles of hir owne eyes. You haue stoutly sayd (an∣swered the Barone) in defense of your wiues chastity, whereof she can make vnto hir self no greate warran∣tise, bicause a woman sometimes will be in minde not to be moued at the requests and gifts offred by y^e grea∣test Prince of the world, who afterwards within a day vpon the only sight and view of some lusty yong man, at one simple word vttered with a few tears and shor∣ter sute, yeldeth to his request. And what is she then y^t can conceiue such assurance in hir self? What is he that knoweth the secretes of hearts which be impenetra∣ble? Surely none as I suppose, except God him selfe. A woman of hir owne nature is moueable and plyant, & is the most ambitious creature of the world. And (by God) no woman do I know but that she lusteth and de∣sireth to be beloued, required, sued vn̄to, honored & che∣rished? And oftentimes it commeth to passe y^t the most crafty dames which thinke with fained lookes to féede their diuers louers, be the first that thrust their heades into the amorous nets, and like little birdes in harde 〈◊〉〈◊〉 of weather be caught in louers 〈◊〉〈◊〉 wigges. Wherby sir Vlrico I doe not sée that your wife (aboue all other women compacte of flesh and bone) hath such priuilege from God, but that she may be soone entised and corrupted. Well sir (sayd the 〈◊〉〈◊〉 Knight) I am persuaded of that which I haue spoken, and verely doe beleue the effect of my beliefe moste true.

Euery man

knoweth his owne affaires, & the foole knoweth better what he hath, than his neighbors doe, be they neuer so wise. Beleue you what you think good, for I meane not to digresse frō that which I conceiue. And suffer me (I pray you) to beleue what I list, sith belief cannot hurt me, nor yet your discredite can hinder my belief, being frée for eche man in semblable chaunces to think & be∣lieue what his minde lusteth and liketh. There were many other Lords and Gentlemen of the court 〈◊〉〈◊〉 at that talke, and as we commonly sée (at such like me∣tings) 〈◊〉〈◊〉 man vttereth his minde: wherupon ma∣ny and sundry opinions were produced touching that question. And bicause diuers mē be of diuers natures, and many presume vpon the pregnancie of their wise heads, there rose some stur about y^t talk, eche mā obsti∣nate in his alleaged reason, more froward 〈◊〉〈◊〉 than reason did require: the cōmunication grew so hot, and talk brake forth so loud, as the same was reported to the 〈◊〉〈◊〉. The good Lady sory to heare tel of such strife within hir Court, abhorring naturally all cōtro∣uersie and contention, sent for the parties, & required them from point to point to make recital of the begin∣ning and circumstāce of their reasons and arguments. And when she vnderstode the effect of al their talke, she sayd, that euery man at his owne pleasure might be∣leue what he list, affirming it to be presumptuous and extreme follie, to iudge all women to be of one disposi∣tion, in like sort as it were a great error to say that al men be of one qualitie and condition: the contrarie by daily experience manifestly appearing. For both in mé and women, there is so great difference and variety of natures, as there be heads and wits. And how it is cō∣monly séene that two brothers and sisters, born at one birth, be yet of contrary natures and 〈◊〉〈◊〉, of

manners and conditions so diuers, as the thing which shall please the one, is altogether displesant to y^e other. Wherupon the 〈◊〉〈◊〉 concluded, y^t the 〈◊〉〈◊〉 Knight had good reason to continue that good & honest credit of his wife, as hauing proued hir fidelitie of long time, wherein she shewed hir self to be very wise & discrete. Now bicause (as many times we sée) the natures and appetites of diuers men to be insaciable, and one man to be sometimes more foolish hardy than another, euen so (to say the 〈◊〉〈◊〉,) were those two Hungarian Ba∣rons, who seeming wise in their owne conceits, one of them sayd to the 〈◊〉〈◊〉 in this maner:

Madame your grace doth wel maintaine the sere of womankinde, bi∣cause you be a woman. For by nature it is giuē to that kinde, stoutly to stand in 〈◊〉〈◊〉 of themselues, bicause their imbecillitie and weakenesse otherwise would be∣wray them: and although good reasons might be allea∣ged to open the causes of their 〈◊〉〈◊〉, and why they be not able to attaine the hault excellencie of man, yet for this time I doe not meane to be tedious vnto your grace, least the little heart of woman would rise and display that conceit which is wrapt within that little molde. But to retourne to this chaste Lady, throughe whome our talke began, if we might craue licence of your maiesty, and safe 〈◊〉〈◊〉 of this Gentleman to know hir dwelling place, and haue 〈◊〉〈◊〉 to speake to hir, we doubt not but to breake with our battering talke, the Adamant walles of hir 〈◊〉〈◊〉 that is so fa∣mous, and cary away that spoile which 〈◊〉〈◊〉 we shal 〈◊〉〈◊〉. I know not answered the 〈◊〉〈◊〉 Knight, what ye can or will 〈◊〉〈◊〉, but sure I am, that hitherto I am not 〈◊〉〈◊〉.

Many things were spoken there, and sundry opinions of 〈◊〉〈◊〉 partes alleaged. In end the two Hungarian. 〈◊〉〈◊〉 persuaded them selues,

and made their vaunts that they wer able to clime the skies, and both wold attempt and also bring to passe∣ny enterprise were it neuer so great, affirming their former offer by oth, and would gage all the landes and goods they had, that within the space of. v. months they would either of them obtaine the Gentlewomans good will to do what they list so that the Knight were 〈◊〉〈◊〉, neither to returne home, ne yet to aduertise hir of y^t their determination. The Quéene and all the standers by laughed heartily at this their offer, mocking and iesting at their foolish and youthly conceites. Which the Barons perceiuing, sayd:

You thinke Madame that we speake triflingly, and be not able to accomplish this our proposed enterprise, but Madame, may it please you to giue vs leaue, we meane by earnest attempt to giue proofe therof.

And as they were thus in reasoning and debating the matter, the king (hearing tell of this large offer made by the Barons) came into the place where the Quéene was, at such time as she was about to dissuade them from their frātike deuise. Before whō he being entred the chamber, the two Barōs fel downe vpon their knées, and humbly besought his grace, that the compacte made betwene sir Vlrico and them might procéede, disclosing vnto him in few words the effect of all their talke, which frankly was graunted by y^e king. But the Barons added a Prouiso, that when they hadde wonne their wager, the Knight by no meanes should hurt his wife, and from that time forth shold giue ouer his false opinion, that women were not naturally giuen to the sutes and requests of amorous persones. The Boeme Knighte, who was assured of his wiues great honesty and loyall fayth, beleued so true as the Gospell, the proportion and qualitie of the image, who in all the time that he was far off, neuer perceiued the

same to be either pale or blacke, but at that tyme loo∣kyng vpon the image, he perceiued a certaińe yealow colour to rise, as he thought his wife was by some loue pursued, but yet sodainly it returned againe to his na∣turall hewe, which boldned him to say these wordes to the Hungarian barons:

Ye be a couple of pleasant and vnbeleuing Gentlemen, and haue conceyued so 〈◊〉〈◊〉 opinion, as euer men of your callyng did: but sith you procede in your obstinate follie, and wil nedes guage all the lands and goodes you haue, that you bée able to vanquishe my wiues honest and chast hearte, I am contented, for the singular credite which I repose in hir, to ioyne with you, and will pledge the poorely∣uing I haue for proofe of mine opinion, and shal accom∣plish all other your requests made here, before the ma∣iesties of the King and Quéene. And therefore 〈◊〉〈◊〉 it 〈◊〉〈◊〉 youre highnesse, sith this fonde deuise can not be beaten 〈◊〉〈◊〉 of their heads, to giue licence vnto those noble men, the lords Vdislao, and Alberto, (so wer they called) to put in proofe the merie conceipt of their dis∣posed mindes (wherof they do so greatly bragge) and I 〈◊〉〈◊〉 your good grace and fauoure, am content to agrée to their demaundes: and we answered the Hungarians doe once againe affirme the same whiche we haue spo∣ken.

The Kyng wylling to haue them gyue ouer that strife, was intreated to the contrary by the Barons: whervpon the King perceiuing their follies, caused a decrée of the bargaine to be put in writing, either par∣ties interchaungeably subscribing the same. Whiche done, they tooke their leaues. Afterwardes, the two Hungarians beganne to put their enterprise in order, and agréed betwene themselues, Alberto to be the first that shoulde aduenture vpon the Lady. And that with∣in 〈◊〉〈◊〉 wéekes after, vpon his retourne, the Lorde

Vladislao should procéede. These things concluded, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 all furnitures for their seuerall iorneys disposed, the Lorde Alberto departed in good order, with two 〈◊〉〈◊〉 directly trauailyng to y^t castle of the Boeme knight, where béeing arriued, hée lyghted at an Inne of the towne adioyning to the castle, and demaunding of the hoste, the conditions of the Ladie, hée vnderstode that she was a very faire woman, and that hir honestie and loue towardes hir husbande farre excelled hir 〈◊〉〈◊〉. Which wordes nothing 〈◊〉〈◊〉 the amorous 〈◊〉〈◊〉, but when he hadde pulled of his bootes, and richely 〈◊〉〈◊〉 hymselfe, he repaired to the Castle, and 〈◊〉〈◊〉 at the Gates, gaue the Ladie to vnderstande that he was come to sée hir. Shée whiche was a curteous Gentlewoman, caused him to be brought in, and 〈◊〉〈◊〉 gaue hym honourable intertainement. The 〈◊〉〈◊〉 greatly mused vpon the beautie and goodlinesse of the Ladye, singularly commendyng hir honest order and behauiour. And beyng sette downe, the yong Gentle∣man sayde vnto hir:

Madame, moued with the 〈◊〉〈◊〉 of your surpassing beautie, which now I sée to be more excellent than Fame with hir swiftest wyngs is able to carie, I am come from the Court to view and sée if that were true, or whether lying brutes had 〈◊〉〈◊〉 their vulgar talke in vaine: but fyndyng the same 〈◊〉〈◊〉 more fine and pure than erst I dyd expect, I craue li∣cence of your Ladyshyp, to conceiue none 〈◊〉〈◊〉 of this my 〈◊〉〈◊〉 and rude attempte:

and herewithall he began to ioyne many trifling and vaine words, which daliyng suters by heate of lustie blood be wont to shote forth, to declare thē selues not to be spechlesse or tong∣tied. Whiche the Lady well espying, spéedily imagined into what port his 〈◊〉〈◊〉 barke would arriue: 〈◊〉〈◊〉

in the ende when she sawe his shippe at roade, be∣gan to enter in pretie louyng talke, by litle and litle to incourage his fonde attempt. The Baron thinkyng he had caught the Eele by the taile, not well practised in Cicero his schoole, ceased not 〈◊〉〈◊〉 to contriue the 〈◊〉〈◊〉, by makyng hir beléeue, that hée was farre in loue. The Ladie wearie (God wote) of his fonde 〈◊〉〈◊〉 and amorous reasons, and yet not to séeme scornefull. made hym good countenance, in such wise as the Hungarian two or thrée dayes dydde nothing else but procéede in vayne pursute: Shée perceyuing hym to bée but a 〈◊〉〈◊〉 of the fyrste coate, deuysed to recompense hys Follies wyth suche enterteyne∣mente, as duryng all hys lyfe, hée shoulde kéepe the same in good remembraunce. Wherefore not long after, faynyng as thoughe hys greate wysedome, vt∣tered by cloquente talke, hadde 〈◊〉〈◊〉 hir, shée sayde thus vnto hym:

My 〈◊〉〈◊〉, the reasons you produce, and youre pleasaunt gesture in my house, haue so inchaunted me, that impossible it is, but I must 〈◊〉〈◊〉 agrée vnto youre wyll: for where I neuer thoughte duryng lyfe, to stayne the puritie of ma∣riage bedde, and determined continually to preserue my selfe inuiolablye for my husbande, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 Noble grace and curteous behauioure, haue (I saye) so be∣witched mée, that readie I am to bée at youre com∣maundement, humbly 〈◊〉〈◊〉 youre honor to be∣ware, that knowledge hereof maye not come vnto mine husbands eares, who is so 〈◊〉〈◊〉 and cruell, and loueth me so dearely, as no doubt he will without fur∣ther triall either him self kil me, or otherwise procure my 〈◊〉〈◊〉: & to the intent none of my house may suspect our doings, I shal desire you to morow in the morning

about nine of the clocke, which is the 〈◊〉〈◊〉 time of your repaire hither, to come vnto my castle, wher∣in when you bée entred, spéedily to mount vp to the chamber of the highest 〈◊〉〈◊〉, ouer the dore wherof, ye shall fynde the armes of my husbande, entailed in marble: and when you be entred in, to shut the 〈◊〉〈◊〉 fast after you, and in the meane tyme I wil waite and and prouide, that none shall molest and trouble vs, and then shall bestowe our selues for accomplishement of that which your loue desireth. Now in very déede this chamber was a very strong prison ordeined in aunci∣ent time by the progenitours of that territorie, to im∣prison and punish the bassals and tenants of the same, for offenses and crimes committed.

The Baron hea∣ryng thys liberall offer of the Ladie, thinking that he had obteyned the summe of all his ioye, so gladde as if he had conquerēd a whole kingdome, the best conten∣ted man aliue, thankyng the Ladie for hir curteous answere, departed, and retourned to his Inne. 〈◊〉〈◊〉 knoweth vpon howe mery a pinne the hearte of thys yong Baron was sette, and after he had liberally ban∣ketted his hoste and hostesse, pleasantly disposing him selfe to myrth and recreation, he went to bed, where ioy so lightned his merrie head, as no sléepe at all could close his eyes: suche be the sauage pangs of those that aspire to like delights, as the best reclaimer of the wil∣dest hauke coulde neuer take more payne or deuise 〈◊〉〈◊〉 shiftes to man the same for the better atchieuing of hir praie, than dyd this braue Baron sustaine for bryn∣gyng his enterprise to effecte. The nexte day early in the morning he rose, dressyng hymselfe with the swe∣test parfumes, and putting on hys finest sute of 〈◊〉〈◊〉, at the appointed houre he went to the castell, and so secretly as he could, according to the Ladies instruc∣tion,

he conueyd himselfe vp into the chamber 〈◊〉〈◊〉 he founde open, and when he was entred, he shutte the same. The maner of the dore was such, as none with∣in coulde open it without a 〈◊〉〈◊〉, and besides the strong locke, it had both barre and 〈◊〉〈◊〉 on the outside, with such fastening, as the diuel him self being locked with∣in, coulde not breake forth. The Ladie which wayted harde by for his 〈◊〉〈◊〉, so soone as she perceiued that the dore was shutte, stepte vnto the same, and bothe double locked the dore, and also without she barred and fast bolte the same, carying the 〈◊〉〈◊〉 away with hir. This chamber was in the hyghest tower of the house (as is before sayde) wherein was placed a bedde with good furniture, the wyndow wherof was so high, that none could loke out without a ladder. The other parts therof were in good and cōuenient order, apt and mete for an honest prison. When the Lorde Alberto was within, hée satte downe, wayting (as the Jewes doe for Messias) when the Ladie according to hir appointe∣ment should come. And as he was in this expectation, building castles in the ayre, and deuising a thousande Chimeras in his braine, beholde he hearde one to open a little wicket that was in the dore of that chamber, which was so straight and litle, as scarcely able to re∣ceyue a loafe of bread, or cruse of wine, vsed to be sent to the prisoners. He thinkyng that it had bene the La∣die, rose 〈◊〉〈◊〉, and hearde the noyse of a little girle, who loking in at the hole, thus sayd vnto him:

My Lord Al∣berto, the Ladie Barbara my mistresse (for that was hir name) hath sent me thus to say vnto you: That for so much as you be come into this place, by countenaunce of Loue, to dispoyle hir of hir honour, she hath impri∣soned you like a théefe, according to your deserte, and purposeth to make you suffer penance according to the

measure of your offense. Wherfore so long as you shal remaine in this place, she mindeth to force you to gain your bread and drinke with the art of spinning, as pore women do for sustentation of their liuyng, meanyng thereby to coole the heate of your lustie youth, and to make you tast the sowre sause mete for them to assay, that go about to robbe Ladies of their honour: she bad me lykewise to tell you, that the more yarne you spin, the greater shal be the abundance and delicacie of your fare: the greater paine you take to gaine your foode, the more liberall she will bée in distributing of the same: otherwise (she sayth) that you shall fast wyth breade and water. Which determinate sentence she hath de∣créed, not to be infringed & broken for any kinde of sute or intreatie that you be able to make.

When the mai∣den had spoken these wordes, she shut the portall dore, and returneo to hir Ladie. The Baron which thought that he had ben comen to a mariage, did eate nothing al the mornyng before, bicause he thought to be entertei∣ned with better & daintier store of viandes, who nowe at those newes fared like one oute of his wittes, and stoode still so amazed, as though his leggs woulde haue failed him, and in one moment his 〈◊〉〈◊〉 〈◊〉〈◊〉 to va∣nish, and his force and breath forsoke him, and fel down vpon the chamber 〈◊〉〈◊〉, in such wise as he that had be∣helde him, wold haue thought him rather dead than li∣uing. In this state he was a greate time, & after wards somwhat cōming to him selfe, he could not tel whether he dreamed, or else that the words wer true, which the maiden had sayd vnto him: In the end séeing, and being verily assured, that he was in a prison so sure as birde in Cage, through 〈◊〉〈◊〉 and rage was like to die, or else to lose his wittes, faryng with hym selfe of long time lyke a madde man, and not knowing what to do,

passed the rest of the day in walkyng vp and down the chamber, rauing, stamying, staring, cursing, and vsing words of greatest villanie, lamenting and bewailyng the time and day, that so like a beast and 〈◊〉〈◊〉 man, he gaue the attempt to dispoile the honestie of an other mans wife. Then came to his 〈◊〉〈◊〉 the losse of al his landes and goodes, which by the 〈◊〉〈◊〉, authoritie were put in comprimise, then the shame, the scorne, and re∣buke whyehe hée shoulde receyue at other mens han∣des, beyonde measure vexed hym: and reportē bruted in the Court (for that it was impossible but the whole worlde should know it) so grieued hym, as his 〈◊〉〈◊〉 séemed to be strained with two sharpe and bityng nai∣les, the paines whereof, forced hym to lose his wittes and vnder standyng. In the middes of which pangs fu∣riously vauting vp and down the chamber, he espied by chaunce in a corner, a 〈◊〉〈◊〉 furnished with good 〈◊〉〈◊〉 of flare, and a spindle hangyng therevppon: and 〈◊〉〈◊〉 with choler and rage, hée was aboute to spoyle and breake the same in pieces: but remembring what a harde weapon Necessitie is, hée stayed hys wysdom, and albeit hée hadde rather to haue contriued hys ley∣sure in noble and Gentlemanlyke passetyme, yet ra∣ther than he woulde be idle, hée thoughte to reserue that Instrument to auoyde the tedious lacke of honest and familiar companie. When supper time was come, the mayden returned agayn, who opening the Portall dore, saluted the Baron, and sayde:

My Lord, my mi∣stresse hath sente mée to visite your good Lordshyp, and to receyue at youre good handes the effecte of youre laboure, who hopeth that you haue spoonne some sub∣stanciall webbe of thréede for earning of your supper, which béeing done, shall be readily brought vnto you.

The Baron full of rage, furie, and felonious moode, if

before he were fallen into choler, now by protestation of these wordes, he séemed to transgresse the bounds of reason, and began to raile at the poore wench, scolding and chiding hir like a strumpet of the stewes, faring as though he would haue beaten hir, or done hir some 〈◊〉〈◊〉 ther mischiefe: but his moode was stayed from doyng any hurt: The poore 〈◊〉〈◊〉 〈◊〉〈◊〉 by hir 〈◊〉〈◊〉, in laughing wise sayd vnto him: Why (my lorde) do you chafe & rage against me?

Me thinks you do me wrong to vse such reprochful words, which am but a seruant, and bounde to the commaundement of my mistresse: Why sir, do you not know that a 〈◊〉〈◊〉 or messan∣ger suffreth no paine or blame? The greatest Kyng or Emperour of the worlde, receiuing 〈◊〉〈◊〉 from a meaner Prince, neuer vseth his ambassador with scol∣ding wordes, ne yet by villanie or rebuke abuseth his person. Is it wisdom then 〈◊〉〈◊〉 you, being a present pri∣soner, at the mercy of your kepers, in this 〈◊〉〈◊〉 sorte to reuile me with 〈◊〉〈◊〉 talke? But 〈◊〉〈◊〉, leaue of your rages, and quiet your selfe for this pre∣sent time, for my mistresse maruelleth much why you durst come (for all your noble state) to giue 〈◊〉〈◊〉 to violate hir good name, whiche message shée required me to tell you, ouēr and bisides a desire shée hathe to know, whether by the science of Spinning, you haue gained your foode: for you séeme to kicke against the wind, & beat water in a morter, if you think from hēce to go before you haue earned a recompense of the meat which shalbe giuen you. Wherfore it is your lot paci∣ently to suffer the 〈◊〉〈◊〉 of your fondattempt, which I pray you gently to sustaine, and think no scorn ther∣of hardely: for desperate men & hard aduenturers must néedes suffer the daungers thervnto belonging. This is the determinate sentence of my mistresse mynde,

who fourdeth you no better fare than breade and wa∣ter, if you can not shewe some pretie spindle full of yarne for signe of your good will at this present pinche of your distresse.

The mayden séeing that hée was not disposed to shewe some part of willyng minde to gaine his liuing by that 〈◊〉〈◊〉 science, shut the portal dore, and went hir way. The vnhappie Baron (ariued the∣ther in very yll time) that nyght had neither bread nor broth, and therfore he fared according to theprouerbe: He that goth to bed supperlesse, lieth in his bed restlesse. For during the whole night, no sléepe couldfasten his eyes. Now as this baron was closed in prison fast, so the La die tooke order, that secretely with great cher ehis ser∣uants should be interteined, and his horsse with swete haye and good prouender well mainteined, all his fur∣nitures, sumpture horsse and cariages conueyed with∣in the Castle, where wanted nothyng for the state of such a personage but onely libertie, making the hoste of the Inne beleue (where the Lorde harbored before) that he was returned into Hungarie.

But now turne we to the Boeme Knight, who kno∣wing that one of the two Hungarian Competitors, were departed the Court, and ridden into Boeme, dyd stil be∣holde the qualitie of the inchaunted image, wherein by the space of thrée or foure dayes, in which time, the ba∣ron made his greatest sute to his Ladie, he marked a certaine alteration of coloure in the same: but after∣wards returned to his natiue forme: and seing no gre∣ter transformation, he was wel assured, that the Hun∣garian Baron was repulsed, and imployed his labor in vain. Wherof the Boeme Knight was excedingly plea∣sed and contented, bicause he was well assured, that his wife had kept hir selfe right pure and honest. Not∣withstandyng his mynde was not well settled, ne yet

his hearte at rest, doubtyng that the Lorde Vladislao, which as yet was not departed the Courte, would ob∣taine the thing, and acquite the faulte, which his com∣panion had committed. The imprisoned Baron which all this time had neither 〈◊〉〈◊〉 nor dronken, nor in the night coulde sléepe, in the mornyng, after he had con∣sidered hys mysaduenture, and well perceyued no re∣medie for him to go forth, except he obeyed the Ladies hest, made of necessitie a vertue, and applied himselfe to learne to Spynne by force, whiche fréedome and ho∣nour coulde neuer haue made hym to doe. Whervp∣on hée tooke the distaffe, and beganne to spynne. And albeit that he neuer spoonne in all hys lyfe before, yet 〈◊〉〈◊〉 by Necessitie, so well as he could, he drewe out his thréede, nowe small and then greate, and ma∣nye times of the meanest sort, but very often broade, yll fauoured, yll closed, and worsse twisted, all cut of fourme and fashion, that sundrie times very heartyly he laughed to him selfe, to see his cunning, but woulde haue made a cunnyng woman spinner brust into ten thousande laughters, if shée hadde 〈◊〉〈◊〉 there. Thus all the mornyng he spent in spynnyng, and when din∣ner came, his accustomed messanger, the mayden, re∣paired vnto hym agayne, and openyng the wyndowe demaunded of the Baron how his woorke went fore∣warde, and whether he were disposed to manifest the 〈◊〉〈◊〉 of hys comming into Boeme? Hée well beaten in the Schoole of shame, vttered vnto the mayde the whole compacte and bargayne made betwéene hym and hys companion, and the Boeme Knight hir master, & afterwards shewed vnto hir hys spindle ful of threde.

The yong Wench smylyng at his worke, sayde: By Sainct Marie thys is well done, you are worthy of victuall for your hire: for nowe I right well perceyue

that Hunger forceth the Woulfe oute of hir denne. I conne you thancke, that lyke a Lorde you can so puis∣santly gayne youre liuyng. Wherefore procéedyng in that whiche you haue begonne, I doubt not but shorte∣ly you wyll proue suche a woorkeman, as my mistresse shall not néede to put out hir 〈◊〉〈◊〉 to spinne (to hir great charge and coste) for makyng of hir smockes, but that the same maye well bée done wythin hir owne house, yea although the same doe serue but for Kitchen cloa∣thes, for dresser boordes, or cleanyng of hir vessell be∣fore they 〈◊〉〈◊〉 serued forth. And as youre good desertes doe merite thanckes for this your arte, nowe well be∣goonne, euen so youre newe tolde tale of commyng hyther, requireth no lesse, for that you haue disclosed the trouthe.

When she had sayde these wordes, she reached hym some store of meates for hys dynner, and badde hym well to fare. When she was returned vn∣to hir Lady, shée shewed vnto hir the Spindle full of thréede, and told hir therwithall the whole storie of the compact betwene the Knight Vlrico, and the two Hun∣garian Barons. Whereof the Ladie sore astoonned, for the snares layd to 〈◊〉〈◊〉 hir, was notwithstanding well 〈◊〉〈◊〉, for that shée had so well for séene the same: but moste of all reioysed, that hir husband had so good opinion of hir honest lyfe. And before she wold aduertise hym of these euentes, she purposed to at∣tend the comming of the Lord Vladislao, to whom she meant to do like penance for his carelesse bargaine and dishonest opinion, accordingly as he deserued, maruel∣ling very much that both the Barons, wer so rash & pre∣sumptuous, daungerously (not knowing what kinde of woman she was) to put their landes and goodes in ha∣zard. But consideryng the nature of diuers brainsicke mē, which passe not how carelesly they aduenture their

gained goodes, and inherited landes, so they maye 〈◊〉〈◊〉 the praie, after which they vainely hunt, for the preiudice & hurt of other, she made no accompt of these attempt, s sith honest matrones force not vpon the su∣tes, or vaine consumed time of lighte brained cocks∣combs, that care not what fonde coste or yll imployed houres they waste to anoy the good renoume and ho∣nest brutes of women.

But not to discourse frō point to point the particu∣lers of this intended iorney, this poore deceiued Baron in short time proued a very good Spinner, by exercise wherof, he felt such solace, as not onely the same was a comfortable sporte for his captiue tyme, but also for wante of better recreation, it séemed so ioyfull, as yf he had bene pluming and 〈◊〉〈◊〉 his Hauke, or doing other sportes belongyng to the honourable state of a Lorde. Whiche his well arriued labour, the maiden recompensed with abundance of good and delicate mea∣tes. And although the Ladie was many tymes requi∣red to visite the Baron, yet she woulde neuer to that request consent. In whiche time the Knight Vlrico ceased not continually to viewe and reuewe the state of his image, which appeared still to bée of one well coloured sorte. And although thys vse of his was di∣uers times marked and séene of many, yet being ear∣nestly demaunded the cause thereof, hée would neuer disclose the same. Many coniectures thereof 〈◊〉〈◊〉 made, but none coulde attaine the trouthe. And who would haue thought that a Knight so wise and prudent had worne within his pursse any inchanted thing? And albeit the King and Quéene hadde intelligence of thys frequent practise of the Knight, yet they thoughte not mete for any priuate and secret mysterie, to demaund the cause. One Moneth and a halfe was passed nowe,

that the Lord Alberto was departed the Court, and be∣come a castle knight and cunning spinster: which made the Lord Vladislao to muse, for that the promise made betwene them was brokē, and heard neither by letter or messanger what successe he had receiued. After di∣uers thoughts imagined in his mind, he conceiued that his companion had happily enioyed the end of his desi∣red ioy, and had gathered the wished frutes of the La∣dy, and drowned in y^t maine sea of his owne pleasures, was ouerwhelmed in the bottome of obliuion: where∣fore he determined to set forwarde on his iourney to giue onset of his desired fortune: who without long de∣lay for execution of his purpose, prepared all necessa∣ries for that voyage, and mounted on horsebacke with two of his men, he iourneyed towards Boeme, & within few dayes after arriued at the Castle of the faire and most honest Lady. And when he was entred the Inne where the Lord Alberto was first lodged, he diligently enquired of him, and hard tell that he was returned in∣to Hungarie many dayes before, wherof much maruel∣ling, could not tel what to say or thinke. In y^t end pur∣posing to put in proofe the cause wherefore he was de∣parted out of Hungarie, after diligent inquirie of the maners of the Lady, he vnderstoode the general voyce, that she was without comparisō the most honest, wise, gentle and comely Ladie within the whole Countrey of Boeme. Incontinently the Ladie was aduertised of y^e arriuall of this Baron, and knowing the cause of his cōming, she determined to pay him also with that mo∣ney which she had already coyned for the other. The next day the Baron went vnto the Castle, & knocking at the gate, sent in woord how that he was come from the Court of King Mathie, to visite and salute the Lady of that Castle: and as she did entertain the first Baron

in curteous 〈◊〉〈◊〉, and with louing countenaunce, euen so she did the seconde, who thought thereby that he had attained by that pleasant entertainment, the game af∣ter which he hunted. And discoursing vpon diuers mat∣ters, the Lady shewed hir self a pleasant and familiar Gentlewoman, which made the Baron to thinke that in short time he shold win the price for which he came. Notwithstanding, at the first brunt he would not by any meanes descend to any particularitie of his pur∣pose, but his words ran general, which were, that hea∣ring tel of the fame of hir beautie, good grace and come, linesse, by hauing occasion to repaire into Boeme to doe certaine his affaires, he thought it labor well spent to ride some portion of his iourney, though it were be∣sides the way, to digresse to doe reuerence vnto hir, whome fame aduaunced aboue the skies: and thus pas∣sing his first visitation, he returned againe to his lod∣ging. The Ladie when the Baron was gone from hir Castle, was rapte into a rage, greatly offended that those two Hungarian Lordes so presumptuously had bended them selues like common Théeues to wander and roue the Countreys, not onely to robbe and spoile hir of hir honoure, but also to bring hir in displeasure of hir husbande, and thereby into the daunger and pe∣rill of deathe. By reason of which rage (not without cause conceiued) she caused an other Chamber to be made ready, next wal to the other Baron that was be∣come suche a Notable spinster. And vpon the next re∣turne of the Lord Vladislao, she receiued him with no lesse good entertainment than before, and when night came, caused him to be lodged in hir owne house in the Chamber prepared as before, where hée slept not ve∣ry soundly all that night, through the continuall re∣membraunee of his Ladies beautie. Next morning

hée perceiued himselfe to be locked fast in a Prison. And when hée had made him ready, thinking to des∣cend to bidde the Ladie good morrow, séeking meanes to vnlocke the doore, and perceiuing that he could not, he stoode still in a dumpe. And as hée was thus stan∣ding, maruelling the cause of his shutting in so faste, the Maiden repaired to the hole of the dore, giuing his honor an 〈◊〉〈◊〉 salutation, which was, that hir Mistresse commaunded hir to giue him to vnder∣stand, that if he had any lust or appetite to his breake∣fast, or minded from thence for the to ease his hunger or conteine life, that he should giue him selfe to learne to réele yarne. And for that purpose she willed him to looke in such a corner of the Chamber, and he shoulde finde certaine spindles of thréede, and an instrument to winde his yarne vpon. Wherefore (quod she) apply your self thereunto, and lose no time. He that had that time beholden the Baron in the face, woulde haue thought that hée hadde séene rather a Marble stone, than the figure of a man. But conuerting hys colde conceiued moode, into madde anger, he fell into tenne times more displeasure wyth himselfe, than is before described by the other Baron. But séeing that hys madde béhauioure and beastly vsage was bestowed in vaine, the next day he began to réele. The Ladie afterwardes when she hadde intelligence of the good and gainefull spinning of the Lorde Alberto, and the well disposed and towardly réeling of the Lorde V∣ladislao, greately reioyced for making of suche two Notable woorkemen, whose woorkemanship excéeded the laboures of them that hadde béene apprentyzes to the occupation seuen yeares together. Suche be the apte and ready wittes of the Souldioures of loue:

Where in I would wishe all Cupides dearlings to be nousled and applied in their youthly time: thē no doubt their passions would appease, and rages assuage, and would giue ouer their ouer bolde attemptes, for which they haue no thank of the chast and honest. And to this goodly sight the Ladie brought the seruauntes of these Noble men, willing them to marke and beholde the di∣ligence of their maisters, and to imitate the industry of their goodly exercise, who neuer attained meat before by laboure they had gained the same. Which done, she made thē take their horse & furnitures of their Lords, and to depart: otherwise if by violence they resisted, she wold cause their choler to be calmed with such like seruice as they sawe done before their eyes. The ser∣uaunts séeing no remedy, but must néedes depart, toke their leaue. Afterwards she sent one of hir seruauntes in poste to the Court, to aduertise hir husbād of all that which chaunced. The Boeme Knight receiuing this good newes declared the same vnto the King and Quéene, and recited the whole story of the two Hungarian Ba∣rons, accordingly as the tenor of his wiues letters did purporte. The Princes stoode stil in great admiration, and highly commended the wisdome of the Lady, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 hir for a very sage and politike woman. After∣wardes the Knight Vlrico humbly besought the King for execution of his decrée and performance of the bar∣gaine. Wherupon the King assembled his counsell, and required euery of them to say their mind. Upon the de∣liberation whereof, the Lord Chauncelor of the king∣dome, with two Counsellers, were sent to the Castle of the Boeme Knight, to enquire and learne the processe and doings of the two Lords, who diligently accompli∣shed the Kings commaundemēt. And hauing examined the Lady and hir maiden with other of the house, & the

Barons also, whome a little before the arriual of these Cōmissioners, the Lady had caused to be put together, y^t by spinning & réeling they might cōfort one an other. Whē the Lord Chaūcelor had framed & digested in or∣der the whole discours of this history, retourned to the court where the King & Quene with the Pieres & No∣ble men of his kingdom caused the actes of the same to be diuulged & bruted abrode, and after much talke and discourse of the performance of this cōpact, pro & cōtra, the Quéene taking the Ladies parte, and fauoring the Knight, the King gaue sentēce y^t sir Vlrico shold wholy possesse the lands and goods of the two Barons to him, and to his heirs for euer, and that the Barons shold be banished out of the kingdoms of Hungarie & Boeme, ne∣uer to returne vpon paine of death. This sentēce was put in execution, & the vnfortunat Barōs exiled, which specially to those that wer of their consanguinitie and bloud, séemed too seuere & rigorous. Neuerthelesse the couenaunt being most plaine & euident to most men, y^e same séemed to be pronounced with great Iustice and equitie, for example in time to come, to lessō rash wits how they iudge & déeme so indifferētly of womēs beha∣uiors amōgs whom no doubt ther be both good & bad, as there be of men. Afterwardes the. y. Princes sent for y^e Lady to y^t Court, who there was courteously intertai∣ned, & for this hir wise & politike fact had in great admi∣ration. The Quéene then appointed hir to be one of hir womē of honor, & estemed hir very déerely. The knight also daily grew to great promotion, well beloued and fauored of the King, who with his Lady lōg time liued in great ioy & felicitie, not forgetting the cunning mā Pollacco, that made him the image and likenesse of his wife: whose frendship and labor he rewarded with mo∣ney, and other benefites very liberally.