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.

The King of Marocco.

¶ The great Curtesie of the Kyng of MAROCCO, (a Citie in BARBARIE) 〈◊〉〈◊〉 a poore Fisherman, one of hys subiects, that had lodged the Kyng, beyng strayed from his companie in hunting.

The. xxxiiij. Nouel.

FOr so much as the more than beastly crueltie re∣counted in the former Historie, doth yeld some sowre tast to the minds of those that bée curte∣ous, gentle and wel con∣ditioned by nature, and as the stomacke of hym y^t dayly vseth one kinde of meate, be it neuer so delicate & daintie, dothe at length lothe and dis∣daine the same, and vtterly refuseth it. I now chaunge the diet, leauing for a certain time the murders, slaugh∣ters, despaires, and tragicall accidents, chaunced either in the loue, or in the ielosie of a louer, or of a husband, & turn my stile to a more plesant thing, that may so wel serue for instruction of the noble to folowe vertue, as that which I haue alreadie written, maye rise to their profite, warely to take héede they fall not into such de∣formed and 〈◊〉〈◊〉 faults, as the name and praise of mā, be defaced and his reputation decayed: if then the con∣traries be knowne by that which is of diuers natures,

the villanie of great crueltie shall be couuerted into the gentlenesse of great curtesie, and rigor shal be con∣demned, when with swetenesse and generositie, the no∣ble shall assay to wynne the heart, seruice, and affected deuotion of the basest sort: so the greatnesse and nobili∣tie of man placed in dignitie, and who hath puissance o∣uer other, consisteth not to shew himselfe hard and ter∣rible, for that is the maner of tyrants, bicause he that is feared, is consequently hated, euill beloued, and in the ende forsaken of the whole world, which hath bene the cause that in times past Princes aspiryng to great 〈◊〉〈◊〉, haue made their way, more easie by gentle∣nesse and Curtesie, than by furie of armes, stablishing the foundations of their dominions more firme & dura∣ble by those means, than they which by rigor and cruel∣tie haue sacked townes, ouerthrowne Cities, depopu∣lated prouinces, and 〈◊〉〈◊〉 landes with the bodies of those, whose liues they haue depriued by dent of sword, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 the gouernement and authoritie ouer other, carieth greater subiection than puissance. Wherefore Antigo∣nus, one of the successoures of greate Alexander (that made all the earth to tremble vpon the recitall of his name) seing that his sonne behaued himself to arrogāt∣ly, and without modestie to one of his subiectes, repro∣ued and checked him, and amongs many wordes of 〈◊〉〈◊〉 and admonition, sayde vnto him:

Knowest thou not my sonne, that the estate of a Kyng, is a no∣ble and honorable seruitude? Royall words (in dede) and méete for a Kyng:

For albeit that eche man dothe him reuerence, and that he be honoured and obeyed of all, yet is hée for all that, the seruaunt and publike mi∣nister, who ought no lesse to defende hys subiecte, than hée that is the subiecte to doe hym honoure and ho∣mage. And the more the Prince doth humble himself,

the greater increase hath his glorie, and the more won∣derful he is to euery wight. What aduanced the glory of that Iulius Caesar, who firste depressed the Senatorie state of gouernement at Rome? Were his victories at∣chieued ouer the Galles and Britons, and afterwardes o∣uer Rome it selfe, when he had vanquished Pompee? Al those serued his tourne, but his greatest fame rose of his clemencie and curtesie: In such wise as he shewed hym selfe to be gentle, and fauourable euen to them, whome he knewe not to loue him, otherwise than if he had bene their mortal enimie. His successors as Augu∣stus, Vespasianus, Titus, Marcus Aurelius, & Flauius were worthily noted for clemencie: Notwithstandyng I sée not one drawe néere to great courage and gentlenesse, ioyned with the singular curtesie of Dom Roderigo Viuario the Spaniarde surnamed Cid towarde Kyng Pietro of Aragon that hyndred his expedition againste the Mores at Grenadoe: For hauyng vanquished the 〈◊〉〈◊〉 King, and taken hym in battell, not only remitted the reuenge of his wrong, but also suffered hym to goe without raunsome, and toke not from him so much as one forte, estéeming it to be a better exploite to winne such a king with curtesie, than beare the name of cru∣ell, in putting hym to death, or seazing vpon his lande. But bicause acknowledging of the poore, and enriching the small, is more cōmendable in a Prince, than when he sheweth himselfe gentle to his like, I haue collected thys discourse and facte of Kyng Mansor of Marocco, whose children (by subtile and fained religion) Cherif succéeded, the sonne of whome at this day inioyeth the kingdoms of Su, Marocco, and the most part of the 〈◊〉〈◊〉 confinyng vpon Aethiopia. This historie was told by an Italian called Nicholoso Baciadonne, who vpon this accident was in Affrica, and in trafike of marchandise

in the land of Oran, situated vpon the coast of y^t South seas, and where the Geneuois and Spaniards vse great entercourse, bicause the countrey is faire, wel peopled, and where the inhabitaunts (although the soile be bar∣barous) lyue indifferent ciuilly, vsing greate curtesie to straungers, and largely departyng their goodes to the poore, towards whome they be so earnestly bente, and louing, as for their liberalitie and pitifull alinesse, they shame vs Christians. They mainteyne a greate numbre of Hospitalls, to receyue and intertaine the poore and néedie, which they doe more charitably than they that be bounde by the lawe of Iesus Christe, to vse charitie towardes their brethren, wyth that curtesie and humaine myldnesse. These Oraniens delight also to recorde in writing the successe of things that chaunce in their tyme, and carefully reserue the same in me∣morie, whiche was the cause that hauyng registred in theyr Chronicles, (which be in the Arabie letters, as the moste parte of the Countreys do vse) thys present historie, they imparted the same to the Geneuois mar∣chauntes, of whome the Italian Author confesseth 〈◊〉〈◊〉 haue receyued the Copie. The cause why that Gene∣uois marchaunt was so diligent to make that enquirie, was by reason of a citie of that prouince, built through the chaunce of this Historie, and which was called in theyr tongue, Caesar Elcabir, so much to say, as A great Palace. And bycause I am assured, that curteous mynds will delight in déedes of curtesie. I haue amongs other the Nouells of Bandello, chosen by Francois de Bellefo∣rest, and my selfe discoursed thys, albeit the matter be not of great importance, and greater thyngs and more notorious curtesies haue bene done by our owne kings and Princes. As of Henry the eyght a Prince of no∣table memorie in his progresse in to the Northe the

xxxiij. yeare of his raigne, when he disdained not a pore Millers house, being stragled from his traine, busily pursuing the Hart, and there vnknown of the Miller, was welcomed with homely chere, as his mealy house was able for the time to minister, and afterwards for acknowledging his willing minde, recompenced him with dainties of the Courte, and a Princely rewarde. Of Edward the thirde, whose Royall nature was not displeased pleasauntly to vse a 〈◊〉〈◊〉 Tanner, when deuided from his company, he mette him by the way not farre from Tomworth in Staffordshire, and by cheapening of his welfare stéede (for stedinesse, sure and able to cary him so farre as the stable dore) grewe to a price, and for exchaunge the Tanner craued 〈◊〉〈◊〉 shillings to boote betwene the Kings and his. And whē the King satisfied with disport, desired to shew himself by sounding his warning blast, assembled al his train, And to the great amaze of the pore Tanner, (when he was guarded with that 〈◊〉〈◊〉) he well guerdoned his good pastime and familiare dealing with the order of 〈◊〉〈◊〉 and reasonable reuenue for the mainte∣naunce of the same. The like examples our Chroni∣cles, memory, and report plentifully doe auouche and witnesse. But what? this History is the more rare and worthy of noting, for respect of the people and Coun∣trey, where seldome or neuer curtesie haunteth or findeth harboroughe, and where Nature doth bring forth greater store of monsters, than things worthy of praise.

This great King Mansor then was not onely the temporall Lord of the Countrey of Oran and Morac∣co, but also (as is saide of Prete Iean,) Bishop of his law and the Mahomet priest, as he is at this day that 〈◊〉〈◊〉 in Feze, Sus, and Marocco. Now this Prince a∣boue

all other pleasure, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 the game of Hunting. And he so muche delighted in that passetime, as some∣time he would cause his Tentes in the midde of the de∣sertes to be erected, to lie there all night, to the ende, that the next day he might renewe his game, and 〈◊〉〈◊〉 his men of idlenesse, and the wilde beastes of rest. And this manner of life he vsed still, after he had done iustice and hearkened the complaintes for which his subiectes came to disclose thereby their griefes. Wherin also he toke so great pleasure, as some of our Magistrates doe seke their profite, whereof they be so squeymishe, as they be desirous to satisfie the place whereunto they be called, and render all men their right due vnto them. For with their bribery and sa∣cred golden hunger, Kings and Princes in these dayes be yll serued, the people wronged, and the wicked out of feare. There is none offense almost how villanous so euer it be, but is washed in the water of bribery, and clensed in the holly drop, wherewith the Poetes faine Iupiter to corrupt the daughter of Acrisius faste closed within the brasen Toure. And who is able to resist that, which hath subdued the highest powers?

Now returne we from our wanderings: This great King Mansor on a day 〈◊〉〈◊〉 his people to hunt in y^e not marish & fenny Countrey, which in elder age was farre off from the Citie of Asela, which the Portugalles holde at this present, to make the way more frée into the Isles of Molncca, of the most parte whereof their King is Lord.

As he was attentife in folowing a Bear, & his passe∣time at the best, the Elementes began to darke, and a great tempest rose, & such as with the storme & violent wind, scattred the train far of from the King, who not

knowing what way to take, nor into what 〈◊〉〈◊〉 〈◊〉〈◊〉 〈◊〉〈◊〉 retire, to auiode the tempest, y^e greatest y^e he felt in all his life, would wyth a good wyl haue ben accōpa∣nied as the Troiane 〈◊〉〈◊〉 was, when being in like pa∣styme and feare, hée was constrayned to enter into a caue wyth his Quéene Dido, where he perfourmed the ioyes of hys vnhappie mariage. But Mansor béeyng withoute companie, and withoute any Caue at hande, wandered alongs the Champayne so carefull of his life, for feare of wylde beastes, which flocke together in those desertes, as the Curtiers were 〈◊〉〈◊〉, for that they knewe not whether their Prince was gone. And that which chiefly grieued Mansor, was hys being alone without a guide: And for all he was well moun∣ted, he durste passe no further for feare of drownyng, and to be destroyed amiddes those Marshes, whereof all the countrey was very full. On the one side he was frighted with thunderclaps, which rumbled in the aire very thicke & terrible. On the other side the lightning cōtinually flashed on his face, the roring of the beastes appalled him, the ignorāce of the way so astoonned him, as he was afraid to fal into the running brookes, which y^e outragious raines had caused to swel & rise. It is not to be doubted, that orisons and prayers vnto his great prophet Mahomet were forgotten, & whether he were more deuout than when he went on pilgrimage to the Idolatrous Temple of Mosqua. Hée complayned of yll lucke, accusyng Fortune, but chiefly hys owne follie, for giuing himselfe so much to hunting, for the desire whereof, he was thus straggled into vnkno∣wen Countreyes. Sometimes he raued and vomyted his gall agaynst his gentlemen and houshold seruants, and threatned death vnto his garde. But afterwardes, when reason ouershadowed his sense, he sawe that the

time, and not their negligence or litle care caused that disgrace. He thought y^t his Prophet had poured downe that tempest for some Notable sinne, and had brought him into suche & so daūgerous extremity for his faults. For which cause he lifted vp his eyes, and made a thou∣sand Mahomet mowes, and Apish mocks (according to their manner.) And as he fixed his eyes a lost vp to the heauens, a flashe of lightning glaunced on his face so violently, as it made him to holde downe his head, like a little childe reproued by his master. But he was fur∣ther daunted and amazed, when he sawe the night ap∣proche, which with the darknesse of his cloudy mantel, stayed his pace from going any further, & brought him into such perplexitie, as willingly he wold haue forsa∣ken bothe his hunting and company of his seruauntes to be quitte of that daunger. But God carefull of good minds (with what law so euer they be trained vp.) and who maketh the sunne to shine vpon y^e iust and vniust, prepared a meanes for his sauegarde, as ye shall heare. The Africane King being in this traunce, and naked of all hope, necessity (which is the clearest thing of sight that is) made him diligently to loke about, whether he could sée any persone by whom he might attaine some securitie. And as he thus bent himselfe to discry all the partes of the Countrey, he saw not farre of from him, the glimpse of a light which glimmered out at a little window, whereunto he addressed himself, & perceiued y^t it was a simple cabane situate in the middest of the sennes, to which he approched for his succor & defense in y^e time of that 〈◊〉〈◊〉. He reioysed as you may think, and whither his heart lept for ioy, I leaue for them to iudge which haue assayed like daungers, how be it I dare beleue, that the sailers on the seas féele no greater ioy whē they ariue to harborough, thā the king of Ma∣rocco

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did: or when after a Tempest, or other perill, they disery vpon the prowe of their shippe, the bright∣nesse of some cliffe, or other land. And this king hauing felt the tempest of winde, raine, haile, lightening, and Thunder claps, compassed round about with Marshes and violent streames of little rieurs that ran along his way thought, he had found a Paradise by chauncing vp∣on that rusticall lodge. Now y^t Cotage was the refuge place of a pore Fisher man, who liued and susteined his wife and children with Eeles which he toke alongs the diches of those déepe and huge Marshes. Mansor when he was arriued to the dore of that great palace, couered and thacked with Réede, called to them within, who at the first would make no answer to the Prince that ta∣ried their cōming at the gate. Then he knocked again, and with louder voice than before, which caused this fisher man, thinking that he had bene some Rippier (to whom he was wont to sel his ware, or else some straū∣ger strayed out of his way,) spedily wēt out, and séeing the King wel mounted and richly clothed, and albeit he toke him not to be his soueraigne Lord yet he thought he was some one of his Courtly Gentlemen. Where∣fore he sayd:

what fortune hathe driuen yeu (sir) into these so desert and solitary places, and such as I maruel that you were not drowned a hundred times, in these streames and bottomes whereof this Marrish and 〈◊〉〈◊〉 Countrey are full? It is the great God (answered Mansor) which hath had some care of me, and will not suffer me to perish without doing greater good turnes & better déedes than hitherto I haue done.

The kings cō∣ming thither, séemed to Prognosticate that which after chaunced, and that God had poured downe the tempest for the wealth of the Fisher man, and commodity of the Countrey. And the straying of the King was a thing

appoynted to make voyde those Marshes, and to purge and clense the Countrey. Semblable chaunces haue happened to other Princes, as to Constantine y^t great, besides his Citie called New Rome, whē he caused cer∣taine Marshes and Diches to be filled vp and dryed, to build a faire and sumptuous Temple, in the honor and memory of y^t blessed Uirgin that brought forth the Sa∣uior of the world.

But tel me good mā (replied Mansor) cāst thou not shew me the way to the Court, and whe∣ther the King is gone? for gladly (if it were possible) would I ride thither. Uerely (sayd the Fisher man) it will be almost day before ye can come there, the same being. x. leagues from hēce. Forsamuch as thou know∣est the way (answered Mansor) doe me so great plea∣sure to bring me thither, & be assured that besides the y^t good turne, for which I shall be bound vnto thée, I wil curteously content thée for thy paines. Syr (sayde the pore man) you séeme to be an honest gentleman, wher∣fore I pray you to light, and to tary héere this night, for that it is so late, and the way to the Citie is very euill and combersome for you to passe. No no (said the King) if it be possible, I must repaire to the place whither the King is gone, wherefore doe so muche for me as to be my guide, and thou shalt sée whether I be vnthankefull to them that imploy their paines for me. If King Mansor (sayd the Fisher man) were héere himselfe in person, and made the like request, I would not be so very a foole, nor so presumptuous, (at this time of the night) to take vpon me without daunger to bring him to his Palace. Wherfore (said the King)? Wherefore (quod you)? bicause the Marshes be so daungerous, as in the day time, if one knowe not well the way, the 〈◊〉〈◊〉, (be he neuer so strong and lusty,) may chaunce to

sticke fast, & tary 〈◊〉〈◊〉 for gage. And I wold be sory if the King were héere, that he shold fall into my perill, or sufler anoyance, & therwithal wold deme my self vn∣happy if I did let him to incur such euil or incōbrance. Mansor that delighted in the cōmunication of this good mā, and desirous to know the cause that moued him to speake with such affection, sayd vnto him: And why ca∣rest thou for y^e life, health, or preseruation of our king? What hast to do with him that art so sory for his state, and carefull of his safety. Ho, ho, sayd the goodman, doe you say that I am careful for my prince? Uerily I loue him a hundred times better than I do my self, my wife or children which God hath sent me: and what sir, doe not you loue our Prince? Yes that I doe (replied the King,) for I haue better cause than thou, for that I am many times in his company, and liue vpon his charge, and am entertained with his wages. But what 〈◊〉〈◊〉 thou to care for him? Thou knowest him not, he neuer did thée any good turne or pleasure: nor yet thou nedest not hope henceforth to haue any pleasure at his hands. What? (sayd the fisher man) must a Prince be loued for gaine and good turnes, rather than for his iustice & curtesie? I sée wel that amongs you master Courtiers, the benefits of kings be more regarded, and their gifts better liked than their vertue and nobility, which ma∣keth them wonderful vnto vs: and ye do more esteeme the gold, honor and estates that they bestow vpon you, than their health and sauegarde, which are the more to be considered, for that the King is our head, and God hath made him suche one to kepe vs in peace, and to be careful of our states. Pardon me if I speak so boldly in your presence. The King (which toke singulare delite in this Coūtrey Philosopher,) answered him: I am not offended bicause thy woords aproche so neare the troth:

but tel me what benefit hast thou receiued of that king Mansor, of whome thou makest suche accompte and 〈◊〉〈◊〉 so wel? For I cannot thinke that euer he did thée good, or shewed thee pleasure, by reason of thy pouerty, and the little furniture within thy house in respecte of that which they possesse whom he loueth and fauoreth, and vnto whome he she weth so great familiaritie and benefite. Doe 〈◊〉〈◊〉 me sir (replied the good man) for so much as you so greatly regard the fauoures which sub∣iectes receiue at their Princes handes, as in déede they ought to doe. What greater goodnesse, 〈◊〉〈◊〉, or bene∣fite ought I to hope for, or can receiue of my King (be∣ing suche one as I am,) but the profit and vtilitie that all we which be his vassalles doe apprehend from day to day in the iustice that he rendreth to euery wight, by not suffering the puissant and riche to suppresse and 〈◊〉〈◊〉 the feeble and weake, and him that is 〈◊〉〈◊〉 of fortunes goodes, that indifferency be maintained by the officers to whome he committeth the gouernment of his prouinces, and the care which he hathe that his people be not deuoured by exactions, and intollerable tributes. I do esteme more his goodnesse, clemency and loue, that he beareth to his subiects, than I doe all your delicates and ease in following the court, I most hum∣bly honor and reuerēce my king in that he being farre from vs, doeth neuerthelesse so vse his gouernment, as we féele his presence like the Image of God, for the peace and vnion, wherein we through him doe liue and enioy without 〈◊〉〈◊〉 that little which God and fortune haue giuen vs. Who (if not the King) is he that doeth preserue vs, and defend vs from the 〈◊〉〈◊〉 and pillages of those Theues and Pirates of A∣rabie, which make warre and inuade their neighbors? and there is no frend they haue but they wold displease

if the King wisely did not forbio & preuent their villa∣nies. That great Lord which kepeth his Court at Con∣stantinople and maketh himselfe to be adored of his peo∣ple like a God, brideleth not so muche the Arabians, as our King doeth, vnder the Protection and sauegarde of whome, I that am a pore Fisher man, do ioy my pouer∣tie in peace, and without 〈◊〉〈◊〉 of théeues do norish my little familie, applying my selfe to the fishing of Eeles that be in these diches and fenny places, which I cary to the market townes, and sell for the sustenaunce and féeding of my wife and children, and 〈◊〉〈◊〉 my selfe right happy, that returning to my cabane and homely lodge at my pleasure, in what so euer place I do abide, bicause (albeit farre of from neighboures,) by the bene 〈◊〉〈◊〉 and diligence of my Prince, none staye my iour∣ney, or offendeth me by any meanes, which is the cause (sayd he lifting vp his hāds and eyes aloft,) that I pray vnto God and his great Prophet Mahomet, that it may please them to preserue our King in health, and to giue him so great happe and contentation, as he is vertuous and debonaire, and that ouer his ennimies (flying be∣fore him,) 〈◊〉〈◊〉 may euermore be victorious, for norishing his people in peace, and his children in ioy and Nobili∣tie.

The King séeing that deuout 〈◊〉〈◊〉 of the 〈◊〉〈◊〉, and knowing it to be without guile or 〈◊〉〈◊〉, would gladly haue discouered himself, but yet wil∣ling to reserue the same for better oportunitie, he sayd vnto him.

For somuch as thou 〈◊〉〈◊〉 st y^t king so wel, it is not impossible but those of his house be welcome vnto thee, and that for thy Mansors sake, thou wilt helpe and doe seruice to his Gentlemen. Let it 〈◊〉〈◊〉 you (repli∣ed he) that my heart is more inclined to the King, than to the willes of those that serue him, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 hope of prefer∣ment.

Now being so affectionate to the King as I am, thinke whither his housholde seruaunts haue power to commaund me, and whither my willing minde be prest to doe them good or not. But me thinke ye néede not to stay héere at the gate in talke, being so wet as you be: wherefore vouchsafe to come into my house, which is your own, to take such simple lodging as I haue, wher I wil entreat you, (not according to your merite) but with the litle that God and his Prophet haue departed to my pouertie: And to morow morning I wil conduct you to the Citie, euen to y^t royal Palace of my Prince. Truely (answered the King) albeit necessitie did not prouoke me, yet 〈◊〉〈◊〉 honestie deserueth wel other re∣putation than a simple Countrey man, and I do thinke that I haue profited more in hearing thée speake, than by hearkening to the flattering and 〈◊〉〈◊〉 tales of Courting triflers, which daily imploy thēselues to cor∣rupt the eares of Princes. What 〈◊〉〈◊〉 (said the paisant,) thinke you that this pore coate and simple lodging be not able to apprehend the preceptes of vertue? I haue sometimes heard tell, that the wise auoiding Cities & troupes of men, haue withdrawne themselues into the deserts, for leisure to contemplat heauenly things. Your skill is great replied Mansor: Goe we then, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 you please to doe me that curtesie as this night to be mine hoste.

So the King went in to the rusticall lodge, where in stéede of Tapistery and Turkey hangings, he saw the house stately hanged with fisher nettes and cordes, and in place of riche séeling of Noble mens hou∣ses, he beheld Canes and Redes which serued bothe for the séeling and couering. The fishermanaes wife con∣tinued in y^e kitchen, whilest Mansor himselfe both wal∣ked and 〈◊〉〈◊〉 his owne horse, to which horse the fisher

man durst not once come neare for his corage & stately trappour, with one thing he was abundātly refreshed, and that the most néedeful thing which was fire, wher∣of there was no spare, no more then there was of fishe. But the King which had bene daintely sed, and did not well tast and like that kinde of meat, demaunded if his hunger could not be supplied with a little flesh, for that his stomake was anoyed with the only sauoure of the Eeles. The pore man, (as ye haue somwhat perceiued by the former discourse,) was a plesaunt fellowe, and delighted rather to prouoke laughter, than to prepare more dainty meat, said vnto the King:

It is no maruel though our Kings doe furnishe themselues with coun∣trey men, to serue them in their warres, for the deli∣cate bringing vp and litle force in fine courtiers. We, albeit the raine doth fal vpon our heads, and the winde assaile euery part of our bodies all durtie and wet, doe not care either for fire or bed, we fede vpon any kinde of meat that is set before vs, without séeking sause for increasing of our appetite: and we (behold) are númble, healthy, lusty, and neuer sicke, nor our mouth out of taste, where ye doe féele suche distemperaunce of sto∣make, as pitie it is to sée, & more adoe there is to bring the same into his right order and taste, than to ordaine and dresse a supper for a whole armie.

The King who laughed (with displayed throte,) hearing his hoste so merily disposed, could haue bene contented to haue heard him still, had not his appetite prouoked him and the time of the night very late.

Wherfore he said vnto him. I doe agrée to what you alleage, but performe I pray thée my request, & then we will satisfie our selues with further talke. Well sir (replied the Kings hoste,) I sée well that a hungry belly hathe no lust to heare a mery song, whereof were you not so egre and sharpe

set, I could sing a hundred. But I haue a little Kidde which as yet is not weaned, the same wil I cause to be made ready, for I thinke it cannot be better bestowed.

The supper by reason of the hostes curtesie, was passed forth in a thousande pleasant passetimes, which the Fi∣sherman of purpose vttered to recreate his guest, by∣cause he sawe him to delight in those deuises. And vp∣on the ende of supper, he sayd vnto the King: Now sir, how like you this banket?

It is not so sumptuous as those be that be ordinarily made at our Princes court, yet I thinke that you shall sléepe with no lesse appetite than you haue eaten with a good stomacke, as appereth by the few words you haue vttered in the time of your repast. But whervnto booteth it to employ time, or dei∣ned for eating, in expense of talke, which serueth not but to passe the time, and to shorten the day? And mea∣tes ought rather to be taken for sustentation of nature than for prouocation or motion of this féeble and tran∣sitorie fleshe? Uerily (sayde the Kyng) youre reason is good, and I doe meane to ryse from the table, to passe the remnant of the night in rest, therwith to 〈◊〉〈◊〉 my selfe so well as I haue with eatyng, and do thanke you hartily for your good aduertisement. So the King went to bedde, and it was not long ere he fell a sléepe, and continued 〈◊〉〈◊〉 the mornyng.

And when the Sunne dyd 〈◊〉〈◊〉, the Fisherman came to wake hym, tellyng hym that it was time to rise, and that he was readie to bring him to the Court. All this while the Gentlemen of the Kings traine were searching rounde aboute the countrey to finde his maiestie, making cries and hues, that he mighte heare them. The Kyng knowyng their voices, and the noyse they made, went forth to méete them: and if his people were gladde when they found him, y^e Fisherman was no lesse, amazed to séethe honor

which the courtiers did vnto his guest. Which the cur∣teous King perceiuing said vnto him:

My friend, thou 〈◊〉〈◊〉 here, that Mansor, of whome 〈◊〉〈◊〉 thou ma∣dest so great accompt, and whom thou saydst, that thou didst loue so well. Be 〈◊〉〈◊〉, that for the 〈◊〉〈◊〉 thou hast done him, before it be long, the same shal be so well acquited, as for euer thou shalte haue good cause to re∣membre it.

The good man was alreadie vpon his mary∣bones beséeching the King that it would please him to pardon his rude entertainment, and his ouermuch fa∣miliaritie whiche he had vsed vnto him. But Mansor causing him to rise vp, willed him to depart, and said y^t within few days after he shoulde heare further newes. Now in these fennes and marrish groundes, the Kyng had alreadie builded diuers Castles and lodges for the pleasure and solace of hunting. Wherefore he purpo∣sed there to erect a goodly Citie, causing the waters to be voided with great expeditiō, which citie he caused to be builded immediatly, and compassing the circuite of the appointed place, with strong walles and déepe dy∣ches, he gaue many immunities & priuiledges to those, that wold repaire to people the same, by meanes wher∣of, in litle time, the same was reduced to the state of a beautiful & welthie Citie, which is the very same, that before we sayd to be Caesar Elcabir, as much to say, The great Palace. This goodly worke being thus performed, Mansor sent for his host, to whom he sayd:

To the end from henceforth thou mayest more honourably enter∣tayne Kyngs into thy house, and mayest intreate them with greater sumptuositie, for the better solacyng of them wyth thy Curtesie and pleasaunt talke, beholde the Citie that I haue buylded, whyche I doe 〈◊〉〈◊〉 vnto thée and thyne for euer, reseruing nothyng but an acknowledgemente of good wyll, to the ende thou

mayest knowe, that a Gentlemans mynde nousled in villanie, is discouered, when forgetting a good turne, he incurreth the vice of Ingratitude.

The good man seing so goodly an offer, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 present woorthie of suche a King, fell down vpon his 〈◊〉〈◊〉, and kissyng his foote with all humilitie, sayd vnto hym:

〈◊〉〈◊〉 if youre libe∣ralitie dyd not supplie the imperfection of my merite, and 〈◊〉〈◊〉 〈◊〉〈◊〉 what wanted in me, to attaine so 〈◊〉〈◊〉 state, I would excuse my selfe of the charge whiche it pleaseth you to giue me, and wherevnto for lacke of trainyng vp, and vse of suche a dignitie, I am altogether vnfitte. But 〈◊〉〈◊〉 that the graces of God, and the 〈◊〉〈◊〉 of Kyngs oughte neuer to be reiected, by acceptyng this benefite wyth humble thankes for the clemencie of your royall maiestie, I reste the ser∣uant and slaue of you and yours.

The Kyng hearyng him speake so wisely, toke him vp, and imbraced him, saying:

Would to God and his greate Prophete, that all they whiche rule Cities, and gouerne Prouinces, hadde so good a nature as thine, then I durste be bolde to say, that the people shoulde lyue better at theyr ease, and Monarches without greate charge of consci∣ence, for the yll behauiours of theyr officers. Lyue good man, lyue at thine 〈◊〉〈◊〉, maynteyne thy people, obserue our lawes, & increase the beautie of the Citie, wherof from this time forth we do 〈◊〉〈◊〉 thée possesser.

And truely the present was not to bée contemned, for that the same at this day is one of the fairest that is in Affrica, and is the lande of the black people, suche as the Spaniards call Negroes. It is very full of gardeins, furnished with aboundaunce of Spices brought from the Molucces, bicause of the martes and 〈◊〉〈◊〉 ordeined there. To be short, Mansor shewed by this gift what is the force of a gentle heart, which can not abide to be

vanquished in curtesie, and lesse suffer that vnder for∣getfulnesse y^t memorie of a receiued good turne be lost. King Darius whilome, for a litle garment, receiued in gift by Silofon, the Samien, recompenced him, wyth the gaiue and royall dignitie of that citie, and made him so∣ueraine Lord therof, and of the Isle of Samos. And what greater vertue 〈◊〉〈◊〉 illustrate the name of a noble man, than to acknowledge and preferre them, which for na∣turall shame and 〈◊〉〈◊〉, dare not behold the ma∣iestie of their greatnesse? God sometimes with a more curteous eye doth loke vpon the presents of a poore mā, than the fat and rich offerings of him that is great and wealthie. Euen so a benefite, from what hande soeuer it procedeth, cannot choose to bring forthe the frutes of his liberalitie that giueth the same, who by vsing lar∣gesse, feleth also the like in him, to whome it is imploy∣ed. That magnificēce no long time past vsed the Seig∣niorie of Venice, to Francesco Dandulo, who after he had dured the great displeasures of the Pope, in the name of the whole Citie, vpon his returne to Venice, for ac∣knowledgement of his pacience, and for abolishmente of that shame, was with happie and vniforme acclama∣tion of the whole state elected, and made Prince and Duke of that Common welth. Worthie of praise truly is he, that by some pleasure 〈◊〉〈◊〉 an other to his cur∣tesie: but when a noble man, acknowleageth for a 〈◊〉〈◊〉, that which a subiect is bound to giue him by du∣tie and seruice, there the proofe of prayse caryeth no fame at all. For which cause I determined to displaye the historie of the barbarous king Mansor, to the intent that our Gentlemen, norished and trained vp in great 〈◊〉〈◊〉, may assay by their mildenesse and good educa∣tion, to surmount the curtesie of that Prince, of whom for this time we purpose to take our Farewell.