The Countesse of Mountgomeries Urania. Written by the right honorable the Lady Mary Wroath. Daughter to the right noble Robert Earle of Leicester. And neece to the ever famous, and renowned Sr. Phillips Sidney knight. And to ye most exele[n]t Lady Mary Countesse of Pembroke late deceased

THE COVNTESSE OF MOVNTGOME∣RIES VRANIA. THE FIRST BOOKE. (Book 1)

WHen the Spring began to appeare like the welcome mes∣senger of Summer, one sweet (and in that more sweet) morning, after Aurora had called all carefull eyes to attend the day, forth came the faire Shepherdesse Vra∣nia, (faire indeed; yet that farre too meane a title for her, who for beautie deseru'd the highest stile could be giuen by best knowing Iudgements). Into the Meade she came, where vsually shee draue her flocks to feede, whose leaping and wantonnesse shewed they were proud of such a Guide: But she, whose sad thoughts led her to another manner of spending her time, made her soone leaue them, and follow her late begun custome; which was (while they delighted themselues) to sit vnder some shade, bewailing her misfortune; while they fed, to feed vpon her owne sorrow and teares, which at this time she began againe to summon, sitting downe vnder the shade of a well-spread Beech; the ground (then••blest) and the tree with full, and fine leaued branches, growing proud to beare, and shadow such perfections. But she regarding nothing, in comparison of her woe, thus proceeded in her griefe: Alas Vrania, said she, (the true seruant to misfortune); of any mise∣rie that can befall woman, is not this the most and greatest which thou art falne into? Can there be any neare the vnhappinesse of being ignorant, and that in the highest kind, not being certaine of mine owne estate or birth? Why was I not stil continued in the beleefe I was, as I appeare, a Shepherdes, ••nd Daughter to a Shepherd? My ambition then went no higher then this ••state, now flies it to a knowledge; then was I contented, now perplexed. O ignorance, can thy dulnesse yet procure so sharpe a paine? and that such a thought as makes me now aspire vnto knowledge? How did I ioy in this poore life being quiet? blest in the loue of those I tooke for parents, but now by them I know the contrary, and by that knowledge, not to know my selfe. Miserable Vrania, worse art thou now then these thy Lambs; for they know their dams, while thou dost liue vnknowne of any. By this we••e others come into that Meade with their flocks: but shee esteeming her so••••owing thoughts her best, and choycest companie, left that place, taking a little path

which brought her to the further side of the plaine, to the foote of the rocks, speaking as she went these lines, her eies fixt vpon the ground, her very soule turn'd into mourning.

VNseene, vnknowne, I here alone complaine To Rocks, to Hills, to Meadowes, and to Springs, Which can no helpe returne to ease my paine, But back my sorrowes the sad Eccho brings. Thus still encreasing are my woes to me, Doubly resounded by that monefull voice, Which seemes to second me in miserie, And answere giues like friend of mine owne choice. Thus onely she doth my companion proue, The others silently doe offer ease: But those that grieue, a grieuing note doe loue; Pleasures to dying eies bring but disease: And such am I, who daily ending liue, Wayling a state which can no comfort giue.

In this passion she went on, till she came to the foote of a great rocke, shee thinking of nothing lesse then ease, sought how she might ascend it; hoping there to passe away her time more peaceably with lonelinesse, though not to find least respit from her sorrow, which so deerely she did value, as by no meanes she would impart it to any. The way was hard, though by some win∣dings making the ascent pleasing. Hauing attained the top, she saw vnder some hollow trees the entrie into the rocke: she fearing nothing but the con∣tinuance of her ignorance, went in; where shee found a pretty roome, as if that stonie place had yet in pitie, giuen leaue for such perfections to come in∣to the heart as chiefest, and most beloued place, because most louing. The place was not vnlike the ancient (or the descriptions of ancient) Hermitages, instead of hangings, couered and lined with Iuie, disdaining ought els should come there, that being in such perfection. This richnesse in Natures plentie made her stay to behold it, and almost grudge the pleasant fulnes of content that place might haue, if sensible, while she must know to taste of torments. As she was thus in passion mixt with paine, throwing her eies as wildly as timerous Louers do for feare of discouerie, she perceiued a little Light, and such a one, as a chinke doth oft discouer to our sights. She curious to see what this was, with her delicate hands put the naturall ornament aside, dis∣cerning a little doore, which she putting from her, passed through it into ano∣ther roome, like the first in all proportion; but in the midst there was a square stone, like to a prettie table, and on it a wax-candle burning; and by that a paper, which had suffered it selfe patiently to receiue the discouering of so much of it, as presented this Sonnet (as it seemed newly written) to her sight.

HEre all alone in silence might I mourne: But how can silence be where sorrowes flow? Sigh's with complaints haue poorer paines out-worne; But broken hearts can only true griefe show.

Drops of my dearest bloud shall let Loue know Such teares for her I shed, yet still do burne, As no spring can quench least part of my woe, Till this liue earth, againe to earth doe turne.

Hatefull all thought of comfort is to me, Despised day, let me still night possesse; Let me all torment••s feele in their excesse, And but this light allow my state to 〈◊〉〈◊〉

Which still doth wast, and wasting as this light, Are my sad dayes vnto eternall night.

Alas Vrania (sigh'd she)! How well doe these words, this place, and all a∣gree with thy fortune? sure poore soule thou wert heere appointed to spend thy daies, and these roomes ordain'd to keepe thy tortures in; none being assu∣redly so matchlesly vnfortunate. Turning from the table, she discerned in the roome a bed of boughes, and on it a man lying, depriued of outward sense, as she thought, and of life, as she at first did feare, which strake her into a great amazement: yet hauing a braue spirit, though shadowed vnder a meane ha∣bit, she stept vnto him, whom she found not dead, but laid vpon his back, his head a little to her wards, his armes foulded on his brest, haire long, and beard disordered, manifesting all care; but care it selfe had left him: curiousnesse thus farre affoorded him, as to bee perfectly discerned the most exact peece of miserie; Apparrell hee had sutable to the habitation, which was a long gray robe. This grieuefull spectacle did much amaze the sweet and tender-hearted Shepherdesse; especially, when she perceiued (as she might by the helpe of the candle) the teares which distilled from his eyes; who seeming the image of death, yet had this signe of worldly sorrow, the drops falling in that abundance, as if there were a kind strife among them, to rid their Master first of that burdenous carriage; or else meaning to make a floud, and so drowne their wofull Patient in his owne sorrow, who yet lay still, but then fetching a deepe groane from the profoundest part of his soule, he said. Miserable Perissus, canst thou thus liue, knowing she that gaue thee life is gone? Gone, O me! and with her all my ioy departed. Wilt thou (vnblessed creature) lie here com∣plaining for her death, and know she died for thee? Let truth and shame make thee doe something worthy of such a Loue, ending thy daies like thy selfe, and one fit to be her Seruant. But that I must not doe: then thus remaine and foster stormes, still to torment thy wretched soule withall, since all are little, and too too little for such a losse. O deere Li∣mena, louing Limena, worthy Limena, and more rare, constant Limena: perfections delicately faign'd to be in women were verified in thee, was such worthinesse framed onely to be wondred at by the best, but giuen as a prey to base and vnworthy iealousie? When were all worthy parts ioyn'd in one, but in thee (my best Limena)? yet all these growne sub∣iect to a creature ignorant of all but ill, like vnto a Foole, who in a darke Caue, that hath but one way to get out, hauing a candle, but not the

vnderstanding what good it doth him, puts it out: this ignorant wretch not being able to comprehend thy vertues, did so by thee in thy mur∣der, putting out the worlds light, and mens admiration: Limena, Limena, O my Limena. With that he fell from complaining into such a passion, as weeping and crying were neuer in so wofull a perfection, as now in him; which brought as deserued a compassion from the excellent Shep∣herdesse, who already had her heart so tempered with griefe, as that it was apt to take any impression that it would come to seale withall. Yet taking a braue courage to her, shee stept vnto him, kneeling downe by his side, and gently pulling him by the arme, she thus spake. Sir (said she) hauing heard some part of your sorrowes, they haue not only made me truly pitie you, but wonder at you; since if you haue lost so great a treasure, you should not lie thus leauing her and your loue vnreuenged, suffering her murderers to liue, while you lie here complaining; and if such perfections be dead in her, why make you not the Phoenix of your deeds liue againe, as to new life rais'd out of the reuenge you should take on them? then were her end satisfied, and you deseruedly accounted wor∣thie of her fauour, if shee were so worthie as you say. If shee were? O God (cri'd out Perissus), what diuelish spirit art thou, that thus dost come to torture me? But now I see you are a woman; and therefore not much to be marked, and lesse resisted: but if you know charitie, I pray now practise it, and leaue me who am afflicted sufficiently with∣out your companie; or if you will stay, discourse not to me. Neither of these will I doe (said she). If you be then (said he) some furie of pur∣pose sent to vex me, vse your force to the vttermost in martyring me; for neuer was there a fitter subiect, then the heart of poore Perissus is. I am no furie (repli'd the diuine Vrania), nor hither come to trouble you, but by accident lighted on this place; my cruell hap being such, as one∣ly the like can giue me content, while the solitarinesse of this like caue might giue me quiet, though not ease, seeking for such a one, I happe∣ned hither; and this is the true cause of my being here, though now I would vse it to a better end if I might. Wherefore fauour me with the knowledge of your griefe; which heard, it may be I shall giue you some counsell, and comfort in your sorrow. Cursed may I bee (cri'd he) if euer I take comfort, hauing such cause of mourning: but because you are, or seeme to be afflicted, I will not refuse to satisfie your demaund, but tell you the saddest storie that euer was rehearsed by dying man to liuing wo∣man, and such a one, as I feare will fasten too much sadnesse in you; yet should I denie it, I were too blame, being so well knowne to these sense∣lesse places; as were they sensible of sorrow, they would condole, or else amased at such crueltie, stand dumbe as they doe, to find that man should be so inhumane.

Then faire Shepherdesse, heare my selfe say my name is Perissus, Ne∣phew I am to the King of Sicilie, a place fruitfull and plentifull of all things, onely niggardly of good nature to a great man in that Country, whom I am sure you haue heard me blame in my complaints. Heire I am as yet to this King mine Vncle; and truly may I say so, for a more vnfortunate Prince neuer liued, so as I inherit his crosses, howsoeuer I

shall his estate. There was in this Country (as the only blessing it en∣ioyed) a Lady, or rather a Goddesse for incomparable beautie, and ma••ch∣les vertues, called Limena, daughter to a Duke, but Princesse of all hear••s: this starre comming to the Court to honour it with such light, it was in that my blessed destinie to see her, and be made her seruant, or better to say, a slaue to her perfections; thus long was I happie, but now begins the tragedie: for warres falling out betweene the people and the Gen∣tlemen, the King was by the people (imagining he tooke the other part) brought into some danger, and so great an one, as rudenes ioynd with ill nature could bring him into, being at last besieged in a strong hold of his, all of vs his seruants, and gentle subiects, striuing for his good and safetie; in this time nothing appearing but danger, and but wise force to preserue mens liues and estates vnto them, euery one taking the best meanes to attaine vnto their good desires. The Duke (father to the best, and truest beauty) would yet bestow that vpon a great Lord in the Country, truly for powerfull command and meanes, a fit match for any, but the wonder of women, since none could without much flatterie to him∣selfe, thinke he might aspire to the blessing of being accounted worthie to be her seruant, much lesse her husband. Shee seeing it was her fa∣thers will, esteeming obedience beyond all passions, how worthily ••o∣euer suffered, most dutifully, though vnwillingly, said, she would obey; her tongue faintly deliuering, what her heart so much detested; loathing almost it selfe, for consenting in shew to that which was most contrarie to it selfe; yet thus it was concluded, and with as much speed as any man would make to an eternall happines. While of this, and so my mis∣fortune, I remained ignorant, till one day the warres being a little cea∣sed, though not ended, the siege still continuing, I stole from mine vn∣cle to see my heart, which she kept safe with her: but when I came thi∣ther, I found, or fear'd I found no roome for it. She who had it, being in the power of mine enemie (for so I accounted him, when he enioyed my losse, my hopes being frustrate, my ioyes lost and spoild, I grew from my selfe, my sences failed me, a trembling possessing my whole bodie, so as this distemper was marked, and pittied of all: but what did comfort me, was, that she did seeme to pitty me. Then did I blesse my torments, that had procured me such a fauour. There were none, but carefully sought my health, especially her husband, whose diligence was as tedious, as his wiues was my onely ioy. Grieu'd I was to stay and see my miserie, yet sad I was to goe from seeing her, who gaue me (though a barr'd) delight in beholding her: but knowing passion the greater Lord ouer my strength, I tooke my leaue, pretending busines, hauing onely taken the opportuni∣tie that way afforded me to visite them, passing so neare by them; they all seemed sorry for my going, and Limena indeed was so; then by vn∣us'd pathes I got backe to the King, often, as I rode, looking to that place where I left my soule prisoner. When I had been a while at home, remembring, or rather neuer letting the beautie of Limena be absent from me, I say remembring her, and my euerlasting wretched state in missing h••r; calling my mischiefe by his gaine to account, I found so much cause to lament, as in short time I was but mournefull sorrow; my friends

grieu'd, and generally all did shew displeasure for me, only my selfe found nothing but cause to proceed in this dispaire, loue hauing truly changed me to that most low, and still vnluckie fate. Businesse of State I neg∣lected, going about as in a dreame, led by the cruellest of hellish spirits, Despaire, till I was awaked by a command to goe and leade some troops which were gathered by the Kings friends together comming to raise the siege, yet desiring me to be their head. I went, and thus farre wil∣lingly, hauing so much hope left me, as to thinke I might by this meanes conclude my afflictions with my end; yet first I resolued to write vnto her, that she might know, she had so vnblest a creature to her Seruant. When I had written my letter with shaking hands, and yet a more sha∣king heart, I gaue it to a Page of mine, who was newly come vnto mee, and neuer had been seene in her Fathers house, giuing him besides directions how to carrie himselfe, which he discreetly did obserue, and found as fit an opportunitie as could be wisht: for her husband being gone to see an anci∣ent house of his, she walked alone into a little Groue below the place of her abiding; he perceiuing her, knew straight it was she; wherefore he followed her, hauing before hid himselfe in the vppermost part of the thicket, expect∣ing occasion whereby to performe his Masters commaund. He then seeing it offered, would not neglect it, though somewhat timerously, esteeming her for her excellencies rather some Goddesse of those Woods, then an earthly Creature: but remembring the infinite (yet not sufficient) praises I had gi∣uen her, concluded, it could be none other then Limena; so as comming to her, he on his knees deliuered the letter, saying these words; The wofull Pe∣rissus his Lord and Master presented that, with his seruice to her. This (though but little) was more then I could haue said, if in his place: For Lord, how was I afflicted with millions of doubts how it might be deliue∣red; then, whether she would accept of it; and most, what she would conceiue of my boldnesse, quaking when I gaue it him, knowing how wretched a crea∣ture I must bee, if it offended her, yet wishing I might haue had the papers place once more to haue been toucht by her, though, if it brought dislike, for that to haue suffered martyrdome. But she for my happinesse tooke it, and with a pretty blush read it, which since I perceiu'd did spring from loue, yet blusht to see it selfe so liuely in her cheekes. When she had read it, Good youth (said she) commend me to your Lord: but for his letter, say, It needs no answer till he come himselfe, and fetch one. With this he return'd, and so with much comfort to me, hope being glad to build on any small ground, how much more then on so likely a possibility. I then, Hopes seruant, as be∣fore onely slaue to Despaire, made all haste I could to see her, hauing good and welcome meanes affoorded me, being able with conuenience to take her F••thers house in my way to the new-rais'd Army. Thither I came, which though in a wild Forest, yet it was pretended, I left the great roads for my better safetie. Thus was a colour set vpon my loue, which but for her ser∣uice, and so the safelier to serue her, would suffer any glosse but truth in affe∣ction. Being there ariu'd, I was extreamely welcomed of all: her Father, a graue and wise man, discoursed with mee of businesse of State: after him, and so all supper time, her husband discoursed of hunting, an exercise fit for such a creature. Neither of these brought my Mistris from a graue, and al∣most

sad co••ntenance, which made me somewhat feare, knowing her vnder∣standing, and experience, able and sufficient to iudge, or aduise in any matter we could discourse of: but modestie in her caus'd it, onely louing know∣ledge, to be able to discerne mens vnderstandings by their arguments, but no way to shew it by her owne speech. This (and withall feare of discouering some passions, which she, though excelling in wit and iudgement; yet could not gouerne, at least, guiltines forc'd her to thinke so) was the reason ••he held her grauitie; yet after she grew more merry. And I finding a fit time by her husbands going out of the chamber, with some companie that was there, humbly desired an answere of my letter. She blushing, and as if ashamed so much innocent vertue should be discouered with my Louer-like importuni∣tie in her, though strong in constancie; yet womans affection gain'd so much by lookes, and sweet though-fearing words, as I was resolued, and assured of her loue, which made me proud of such a treasure, begin to dispose part of it to my benefit, for looking about, and seeing euery ones eyes carried their owne waies, I kist her; she, not offended, yet said; Let not my freedome make you dispose otherwise then virtuously of me: I vowed more then that liber∣tie I would not aske, which I know, if I had offered, her vertue would haue refused, nor truly would my deere and worthy affection permit mee to de∣maund, and this held our loues more firme, when tied by vertue. But not to hold you long with this (which yet to me is some ease for the present, al∣though the bitterer the conclusion is that followes). We had as many such meetings as true, or fained meanes could compasse vs, ••till our miserie was such, as this wild man her husband (whether out of true consideration of his great vnworthines, or proceeding from his froward disposition, I know not) grew iealous (an humour following base minds as readily, as thunder doth the lightning), then had he rashnes to accompany the other, which fram'd a determinatiō, which was soone altered frō that name by performance, that she should stay no longer with her father, but go with him to his own house; this I had notice of, but all that we could doe, could not hinder the accom∣plishing his will, and saue her honour, which to me, more deere then mine owne life was esteemed. But the night before her going I came thither, where I found the accustomed entertainement, he vsing me with al shew of respect, which in that kind I embraced; our hearts being as farre from meaning truth in giuing or accepting, as truth is from bare complement, but greatnesse in me made him vse it; and care in me (of my better selfe) receiue it; my heart swelling with hate and scorne, euen almost to breaking, when I did see him. That night I saw her, and but spake to her, so curiously her husband watched vs, yet could he not keepe our eies, but by them we did deliuer our soules, he onely able to keepe her daintie body in his wicked prison. The next day they went, and so went all worth with this odd man to haue her delicacy kept like a Diamond in a rotten box: yet she considering it to be to no pur∣pose to contend, where she was miserably bound to obey, obserued him, as well as she could bring her spirit to consent to; yet did he begin for her wel∣come to grow curst to her; with her Seruants he first began, finding, or bet∣ter to say, framing occasions to be rid of them all, placing of his owne about her, which she suffered, onely contenting her selfe with the memorie of our Loues: yet wanting the true content which was in our conuersation, shee

grew sad, and keeping much within, grew pale, her rosie cheekes and lippes changing to wannesse: but this was all the change, her noble heart free from such a sinne. This was but part of her affliction, still vexing her sweete disposition, with speaking slightly of me, and then telling her of her loue to me; which brought her to that passe, as at last I was not named, but she would blush; then would he reuile her, and vilely vse her: but she patiently, and si∣lently bare all, not suffering me to haue notice of it, lest it might, as it should haue done, moue mee to reuenge her wrong for my sake endured. Thus it rested, she restlesly bearing all the ills that froward Nature (mixt with pee∣uish and spitefull iealousie) could afflict vpon the purest mind; vsing no o∣ther meanes, but gentle and mild perswasions, which wrought no more in him, but that still his madnesse increased. Now was his house not farre from the way which I must passe betweene the Campe, and the great Citie of Si∣racusa, being one of the chiefe of that kingdome; and which at that time had yeelded it selfe againe vnto the King. I hearing Philargus (for so was this vnwor••hie man called) was at his house, with his truly vertuous wife, whom my soule longed to see, I resolued to lodge there that night, not (alas) mis∣trusting the misfortune, but coueting to see her, whom more then my heart I loued, or lou'd my heart the better for being hers. So I went thither, where I was by him exceedingly well welcom'd in outward shew, though his mea∣ning was contrary, which I should haue found, had his diuelish plots bin rea∣die, Iealousie hauing now blinded him to all good nature or iudgement. She poore Lady (poore onely in this fortune) sad and grieu'd, all her smiles turn'd into sighes, and thinkings, which made me feare, and wonder, wondring at the change of her beauty, which yet in p••lenes shew'd excellency; and feare I did, lest my absence had offēded her•• but I was deceiu'd, while I lest thought of the true cause, or could imagine such villanie plotted against so rare per∣fections. Desirous to know the cause, I remain'd almost impatient, not ventu∣ring to speake to her before her husba••d, for hurting her: but he going out of the roome, after wee had supped, either to couer the flames which were ready to breake out in huge fires of his mistrust, or to haue the company fit∣ter for him, aff••cting stil to be chiefe; his absence, howsoeuer, gaue me oppor∣tunitie to demaund the reason of her strangenesse: She sigh'd to heare mee call it so, and with teares told me the reason, concluding; and thus doe you see my Lord (said she) the torments I suffer for your loue; yet do you more torture me with doubting me, who haue no happines left me, but the know∣ledge of my faith to you, all afflictions being welcome to me, which for your sake I suffer. Betweene rage and paine I remain'd amazed, till shee, ta∣king mee by the hand, brought mee more wofully to my selfe with these words. And yet am I brought to a greater mischiefe; with that fixing her weeping eyes vpon mine, which affectionately answered hers with lookes and teares. I must my Lord (said she) intreate you to refraine this place, since none can tell what danger may proceed from mad, and vnbridled iea∣lousie; Refraine your sight? Commaund me then to die (said I). Haue I deseru'd to be thus punish'd? Shall his brutishnes vndoe my blessings? yet this place I will, since you will haue it so, hoping you will find some meanes to let me know Philargus house is not in all places. That I will doe, or die (said she). Miserable wretch (cry'd I), art thou borne to such fortune, as to

haue this Lady loue thee, and her vnmatched goodnes to suffer for one so worthlesse as thy selfe? No, no, my Lord (said she) in this you wrong me, and that iudgement which heretofore you said was in me, since if you were vn∣worthy then, my choice was vnperfect: but you are worthie, and I worthily chose you; I lou'd you, and constantly lou'd you, and in this doe•• I best allow of my owne iudgement. I hope that loue is not cleane gone (cri'd I), (my speech by loue directed to say thus), nor will you forget me, though from our most desired meetings, we must be barred. My loue, my Lord (said she) had, and hath too sure a ground to know remoue, I too truly lou'd, and doe loue you, euer to forget it, or to let it haue least shadow of lessening, though vai∣led in absence, but rather (if increase can be where all is already possest) it shall increase; Loue liuing best where desert, and sufferance ioyne together; and for witnes of it, take this (said she, bestowing her picture vpon me, which is all the Limenas I shall now enioy, or euer did, more then her lou'd, and best b••loued sight. The case was blew, commanding me withall to loue that co∣lor, both because it was hers, and because it self betokened truth. By this time her husband was come, who told vs, 'twas time to goe rest. We obay'd: and this was the last time that euer I saw my deere, and most worthily accounted deere Limena: for the next morning I was by day to be at the Citie, and so from thence to returne to the Campe. Thus tooke I my leaue, and my last leaue of vertuous Limena, whose sad face, but sadder soule foretold our fol∣lowing harme, and succeeding ruine. For within few dayes after my returne to the Camp, there came a Messenger early in the morning, and (O too early for my fortune) whom I strait knew to be Limenas faithfull Seruant. At first, it brought ioy to me, seeing a letter in his hand; but soone was that turn'd to as much mourning, cursing my hands that tooke it, and eyes that read so lamentable a letter; the contents (nay that it selfe) being this, and the verie same my Mistris sent, and wo is me, the last she ere can send. Vrania read it, while he with teares and groanes gaue the true period to it. The Letter said thus.

MY onely Lord, thinke not this, or the manner strange I now send, knowing al∣ready some part of the vndeserued course taken with me; only pitie her, who for your sake suffers patiently; accept these my last lines, and with them the sin∣cerest loue that euer woman gaue to man. I haue not time to speake what I would, therefore let this satisfie you, that the many threatnings I haue heard, are come in some kind to end•• for I must presently die, and for you; which death is most wel∣come, since for you I must haue it, and more pleasing then life without you. Grant me then these last requests, which euen by your loue I coniure you not to denie me, that you loue my poore memory; and as you will loue that, or euer loued me, reuenge not my death on my murtherer, who, how vnworthy soeuer hee was, or is, yet hee is my Husband. This is all, and this grant, as I will faithfully die

Yours.

Alas, faire Shepherdesse (said he), is this a letter without much sorrow to be read? and is not this a creature of all others to be belou'd? Neuer let him breath, that will not heartily, and most heartily lament such a misfortune. Tis

true, said Vrania, reason and worth being companions: but yet I heare not the certaintie or manner of her death, then will I not faile to lament with you. Alas, said hee, heare it of mee, onely fit to tell that storie. After my departure from his house to the Citie, and so to the Campe, the iealous wretch finding my Ladie retired into a Cabinet she had, where she vsed to passe away some part of her vnpleasant life: comming in, he shut the dore, drawing his sword, and looking with as much furie, as iealous spite could with rage demonstrate; his breath short, his sword he held in his hand, his eyes sparkling as thicke and fast, as an vnperfectly kindled fire with much blowing giues to the Blower, his tongue stammeringly with rage bringing foorth these words; thou hast wrong'd mee, vild creature; I say thou hast wronged mee: shee who was compounded of vertue, and her spirit, seeing his wild and distracted countenance guest the worst, wher∣fore mildely shee gaue this answere. Philargus, saide shee, I knowe in mine owne heart I haue not wrong'd you, and God knowes I haue not wrong'd my selfe: these speeches, said he, are but the followers of your continued ill, and false liuing; but thinke no longer to deceiue me, nor cousen your selfe with the hope of being able, for in both you shall finde as much want, as I doe of your faith to me; but if you will speake confesse the truth: O me, the truth, that you haue shamed your selfe in my dishonour, say you haue wrong'd me, giuing your honour, and mine to the loose, and wanton plea∣sure of Perissus; was I not great enough, amiable, delicate enough, but for lasciuiousnesse you must seeke, and woo him? Yet Limena I did thus deserue you, that once better then my selfe I lou'd you, which affection liues in the extremitie ••till, but hath chang'd the nature, being now as full of hate, as then abounding in loue, which shall instantly be manifested, if you consent not to my will, which is, that without dissembling speeches, or flattring fine∣nes you confesse your shamefull loue to the robber of my blisse: you may denie it, for how easie is it to be faultie in words, when in the truth of truth you are so faultie? but take heede, vnfainedly answere, or here I vow to sa∣crifice your blood to your wanton loue; My Lord, said she, threatnings are but meanes to strengthen free and pure hearts against the threatners, and this hath your words wrought in me, in whom it were a foolish basenesse for feare of your sword, or breath to confesse what you demaund, if it were true•• farre more did I deserue eternall punishment, if I would belye him, and my selfe for dread of a bare threatning; since sure, that sword, were it not for danger to it selfe, would, if any noblenesse were in it, or his master, choose rather to dye it selfe in the blood of a man, then be seene in the wranglings betweene vs: yet doe I not denie my loue to Perissus in all noble, and worthy affection, being I thinke nurst with me, for so long haue I borne this respectiue loue to him, as I knowe no part of my memory can tell me the beginning. Thus partly you haue your will in assurance, that that vn∣seperable loue I beare him, was before I knewe you, or perfectly my selfe, and shall be while I am, yet alwayes thus in a vertuous, and re∣ligious fashion. O God, cry'd out Philargus what doe I heare? or what can you stile vertuous and religious, since it is to one besides your husband? hath shame possest you? and excellent modesty abandoned you? you haue in part satisfied me indeed, but thus to see, that I haue

iust occasion to seeke satisfaction for this iniury: wherefore, resolue instant∣ly to die, or obey me, write a letter straight before mine eyes vnto him, coniure him with those sweete charmes which haue vndone mine honour, and content to come vnto you: Let me truely knowe his answere, and be se∣cret, or I vow thou shalt not many minutes outliue the refusall. Shee, swee∣test soule, brought into this danger, (like one being betweene a flaming fire, and a swallowing gulfe, must venture into one, or standing still, perish by one) stood a while not amazed, for her spirit scorned so low a passion; but iudicially considering with her selfe what might be good in so much ill; she with modest constancy, and constant determination, made this answer. This wretched, and vnfortunate body, is I confesse in your hands, to dispose of to death if you will; but yet it is not vnblest with such a mind as will suffer it to end with any such staine, as so wicked a plott, and miserable consent might purchase: nor will I blott my fathers house with Treason, Treason? Nay, the worst of Treasons, to be a Traytor to my friend. Wherefore my Lord pardon me, for I will with more willingnesse die, then execute your minde; and more happily shall I end, sauing him innocent from ill, deliue∣ring my soule pure, and I vnspotted of the crime you tax me of, or a thought of such dishonour to my selfe; I might haue saide to you, but that this cruell course makes me thus part my honour from you; yet can you not part infa∣my, and reproach from you, nor me, said he: Prepare then quickly, this shall be your last; My Lord said shee, behold before your eyes the most di∣stress'd of women, who if you will thus murder, is here ready: then vnty∣ing a daintie embrodered wast coate; see here, said she, the breast, (and a most heauenly breast it was) which you so dearely loued, or made me thinke so, calling it purest warme snow; yet neuer was the colour purer then my loue to you, but now 'tis ready to receiue that stroake, shall bring my heart blood, cherish'd by you once, to dye it, in reuenge of this my wrong reuenge; nay, such reuenge will my death haue, as though by you I die, I pittie your ensu∣ing ouerthrow.

Whether these words, or that sight (which not to be seene without ado∣ring) wrought most I knowe not, but both together so well preuaile as hee stood in a strange kind of fashion, which she (who now was to act her part for life, or death) tooke aduantage of, and this your cruelty will more ap∣peare whē it is known you gaue no time for consideration, or repentance, said she; you deserue no such fauor from me, said he, but rather that I should with out giuing care to that bewitching tongue haue reueng'd my harme, but since I haue committed this first, like faultie men, I must fall into another: Charity, but in no desert of yours, procures this fauour for you; two dayes I giue you, at the end of which be sure to content me with your answere, or content your selfe with present death. The ioy she at this conceiued, was as if assured life had beene giuen her, wherefore humbly thanking him, she pro∣mised to satisfie him so fully at that time, as he should (she hop'd) be pleased with it. Away ••hee went leauing her to her busie thoughts, yet somewhat comforted, since so shee might acquaint mee with her afflictions, for which cause grieuing that I should be ignorant of the true meanes to her end, she so prettily gain'd that little time for the rarest lampe of excellent life to endure. Then called she a faithfull seruant of hers, and the same who brought me

the dolefull letter: First, she coniured him by the faith hee bare her, to obey what shee commaunded, and to bee secret; then related shee this soule rendring storie to him, which shee inioyn'd him truly to discouer to mee, by his helpe getting pen and paper, and hauing written that do∣lorous, yet sweete, because louing letter, sent him to mee that day shee was to giue her answere, which shee assured him should bee a direct re∣fusall, esteeming death more pleasing and noble, then to betray me, who (for my now griefe mixt with that blessing) shee inricht with her incom∣parable affection, giuing him charge to deliuer it to mine owne hands, and besides, to stay with mee, assuring him I would most kindly intreat him for her sake, which shee might truly warrant him, being Commandresse of my soule. Hee found mee in my Tent, ready to goe forth; with a wan and sad countenance hee gaue that and my death together; then tel∣ling the lamentable storie I now deliuered you. With flouds of teares, and stormes of sighes hee concluded: And by this, is the rarest peece of woman-kinde destroyed. Had I growne into an ordinary passion like his of weeping, sobbing, or crying, it had not been fit for the excessiue losse I was falne into; wherefore like a true Cast-away of fortune, I was at that instant metamorphosed into miserie it selfe, no other thing being able to equall mee, no more then any, except the owne fellow to a cockle shell, can fit the other. This change yet in mee, which to my selfe was so sudden as I felt it not, was so marked by my friends, and by all admired, as those who feared the least, doubted my end; which would it then had happened, since, if so the earth no longer had borne such a wretch,, this sad place been molested with a guest perpetually filling it; and these places neere, with my vnceasing complaints. Despaire hauing left mee no more ground for hope but this, that ere long I shall ease them all, death prouing mercifull vnto mee, in deliuering this griefe-full body to the rest of a desired graue. My Lord Perissus (said Vrania), how idle, and vnprofitable indeed are these courses, since if shee bee dead, what good can they bring to her? and not being certaine of her death, how vnfit are they for so braue a Prince, who will as it were, by will without reason wilfully lose himselfe? will not any till the contrarie bee knowne, as properly hope as vainely de∣spaire? and can it bee imagined her husband (who, passion of loue did in his furie so much temper) should haue so cruell a hand, guided by so sauage a heart, or seene by so pitilesse eyes, as to be able to murder so sweet a beauty? No my Lord, I cannot beleeue but she is liuing, and that you shal find it so, if vnreasonable stubborne resolution bar you not, and so hinder you from the eternall happinesse you might enioy. Only rare Shepherdesse (said the loue-kill'd Perissus), how comfortable might these speeches bee to one, who were able to receiue them, or had a heart could let in one signe of ioy? but to me they are rather bitter, since they but cherish mee the longer to liue in despairefull miserie. No, shee is dead, and with her is all vertue, and beauteous constancy gone. She is dead: for how can goodnesse or pitie bee expected from him, who knew nothing more, then desire of ill and crueltie? Thou art dead, and with thee all my ioyes departed, all faith, loue and worth are dead: to enioy some part of which, in short time I will bee with thee, that though in life wee were kept asunder, in death

we may bee ioyn'd together, till which happie hower I will thus still lament thy losse. If you bee resolu'd (said the daintie Vrania), folly it were to offer to perswade you from so resolute a determination; yet being so braue a Prince, stored with all vertuous parts, discretion and iudgement, mee thinks, should not suffer you to burie them in the poore graue of Loues passion, the poorest of all other: these inuite mee, as from your selfe, to speake to your selfe; Leaue these teares, and woman-like complaints, no way befitting the valiant Perissus, but like a braue Prince, if you know shee bee dead, reuenge her death on her murderers; and after, if you will celebrate her funeralls with your owne life giuing, that will bee a famous act: so may you gaine perpetuall glorie, and repay the honor to her dead, which could not bee but touched by her vntimely end. Her honour toucht, and toucht for mee? O immortall God (cride he), thou wilt not (I hope) let a slaue liue should touch on such a thought, nor me to liue after it were borne, if not to sacrifice my bloud to wash away the staine. But I pray you since you vndertake thus to aduise mee, how can I doe this, and yet obey my Limena's commaund, in not reuenging her death? Why that (replide the discreet Vrania) proceeded whollie from the loue shee bare you, which rather is another motiue to stirre you, if you consider it, since the danger shee apprehended you would runne into, to right so delicate, yet vnhappilie, iniured a Ladie, and for you iniured, forced her to vse her authoritie for your safetie. But let not that preuail••, nor hinder a deadlie reuenge for so detestable a fact. Thus shall you approoue your selfe, a braue and worthie Louer, deseruing her, who best deseru'd: but let it neuer be said, Perissus en∣ded vnreuenged of Philargus, and concluded his dayes like a Fly in a corner. These wordes wrought so farre in the noble heart of Perissus, as rising from his leauie Cabine, then thus said hee: Is Perissus the se∣cond time conquerd? I must obey that reason which abounds in you; and to you, shall the glory of this attempt belong: now will I againe put on those habites which of late I abandoned, you hauing gaind the victorie ouer my vowe. But I beseech you, tell mee who my Counsel∣lor is, for too much iudgement I finde in you, to be directly, as you seeme, a meere Shepherdesse, nor is that beauty sutable to that apparell. My name, said shee, is Vrania, my bringing vp hath been vnder an old Man, and his wife, who, till lately, I tooke for my Father and Mother but they telling me the contrary, and the manner of their finding me, makes mee find I am lost, and so in truth, is much of my content, not being able to know any more of my selfe: I delighted before to tend a little Flocke, the old paire put into my handes, now am I troubled how to rule mine owne thoughts. This doe I well credit, said Perissus, for more like a Prin∣cesse, then a Shepherdesse doe you appeare, and so much doe I re∣uerence your wisedome, as next vnto Limena, I will still most honor you: and therefore, faire Vrania, (for so I hope you will giue mee leaue to call you), I vow before heauen and you, that I will neuer leaue off my Armes, vntill I haue found Philargus, and on him reueng'd my Ladies death, and then to her loue and memory, offer vp my af∣flicted life: but first shall you haue notice of the successe, which if

good, shall bee attributed to you; if ill, but to the continuance of my ill destinie. But if your fortune call you hence before you shall be found by them, I will imploy (since the world hath not a place can keepe the beautie of Vrania hidden, if seene, then will it not bee adored), they shall not leaue, till they haue found you; nor will you scorne that name from mee, who shall now leaue you the incomparable Vrania. With these words they went out of the Caue, hee straight going to a large Holly tree (the place rich with trees of that kind), on which at his comming to that melancholy abiding, hee had hung his Armor, meaning that should there remaine in memorie of him, and as a monument after his death, to the end, that whosoeuer did finde his bodie, might by that see, hee was no meane man, though subiect to fortune. Them hee tooke downe and arm'd himselfe, but while hee was arming, Vrania entreated him to doe one thing more for her, which was to tell her how he came to that place. And that was ill forgot most faire Vrania (said hee): then know that as soone as I had receiued that letter so full of sorrow, and heard all that miserable relation, I was forced, notwithstanding the vow I had to my selfe made (of this solitary course you haue reli••ued mee from) to goe against the Enemie, who with new forces, and vnder a new Lea∣der, were come within sight of our Army: I thinking all mischiefes did then conspire together against mee, with an inraged furie went towards them, hoping (and that onely hope was left mee) in that encounter to ende my life, and care together in the battaile, yet not slightly to part with it, in my soule wishing euerie one I had to deale withall had been Philargus. This wish after made mee doe things beyond my selfe, for∣cing not only our company and party to admire me, but also the contrary to bee discouraged, so as wee got the day, and not onely that, but an end of the warres: for the chiefe Traytors being either kild or taken, the rest that outliu'd the bloudy slaughter, yeelded themselues to mer∣cie, whom in my Vncles name I pardoned, on condition that instant∣ly they disbanded, and euerie one retire to his owne home. This done, and my Vncle quietly setled in his seate, in the midst of those triumphs which were for this happy Victorie, I stole away, leauing a letter with my new Seruant, directed to the King, wherein I humbly asked pardon for my priuate departure, and with all the intreates that I could frame, perswaded him to entertaine that seruant of mine, and to accept of him as recommended by mee, and accordingly to esteeme of him. Then tooke I my way first to her Fathers, to know the manner and certain∣tie, where I found vnspeakable mourning and sadnesse, her Mother rea∣die to die with her, as if shee had brought her forth to bee still as her life, that though two, yet like those eyes, that one being struck in a certaine part of it, the other vnhurt doth lose likewise the sight: so she hauing lost her, lost likewise all comfort with her; the seruants mourn'd, and made pitifull lamentations: I was sorry for them, yet gratefully tooke their mourning: for mee thought it was for mee, none being a∣ble to grieue sufficiently, but my selfe for her losse. When her Mother saw me, who euer she well lou'd, she cry'd out these words: O my Lord, see here the miserable Woman depriu'd of all ioy, hauing lost my Limena,

your respected friend. Full well do I now remember your words, when with gentle and mild perswasions, you would haue had vs stay her going from this place vnto his house. Would we had then fear'd, or beleeu'd: then had she bin safe, whereas now she is murdred. Murdred (cri••d I), O speak againe, but withall how? Her husband, said she, led her forth, where in a Wood, thicke enough to shade all light of pitie from him, hee killed her, and then burnt her, her clothes found in the Wood besmeard with blood, and hard by them the remnant of a great fire; they with such store of teares, as had been able to wash them cleane, and quench the fier, were brought to the house by those, who went to seeke her, seeing her long stay; not mistrusting harme, but that they had forgotten themselues. The rest seeing this dolefull spectacle, rent their haire, and gaue all testimony of true sorrow: then came these newes to vs; how welcom, iudge you, who I see feele sorrow with vs: her father & bro∣thers arm'd themselues, and are gone in search of him, who was seene with all speed ••o passe towards the Sea. Thus heare you the Daughters misfor∣tune, which must be followed by the mothers death: and God send, that as soone as I wish, my Lord and Sonnes may meet with that vngrateful wretch to reuenge my miserable childs losse. This being done, she swounded in my armes, my selfe being still in my transformed estate, helpt her as much as I could, then deliuering her to her seruants, I tooke my leaue, buying this ar∣mour to goe vnknowne, till I could find a place sad enough to passe away my mournefull howres in. Many countries I went thorow, and left (for all were too pleasant for my sorrow), till at last I lighted on this happie one, since in it I haue receiued as much comfort by your kind and wise counsell, as is possi∣ble for my perplexed heart to entertaine. By this time hee was fully armed, which made the sweet Vrania admire him; and if more pitie had lodg'd in her then before, she had affoorded him; his goodly personage and dolefull lookes so ill agreeing, had purchased; for she did pitie him so much, as this had almost brought the end of some kind of pitie, or pitie in some kind loue: but she was ordain'd for another, so as this prou'd onely a fine beginning to make her heart tender against the others comming. Now was he ready to de∣part, wherefore they came downe from the rock, when being at the bottome they met a young sh••pherd, whose heart Vrania had (although against her will) conquered. This Lad shee entreated to conduct Perissus to the next town, which he most willingly consented to, thinking himselfe that day most happy when she vouchsafed to command him; withall she inioyned him, not to leaue him, till he saw him shipt, which hee perform'd, comming againe to her to receiue thanks more welcome to him, then if a fine new flock had bin bestowed on him. Perissus gone, Vrania for that night draue her flock home∣ward, giuing a kind looke vnto the rocke as she return••d, promising often to visit it for braue Perissus sake, and to make it her retiring place, there to passe some of her melancholy howres in. The next morning as soone as light did appeare, or she could see light (which sooner she might doe then any, her eyes making day, before day else was seene) with her flocke she betooke her selfe to the meadow, where she thought to haue met some of her compani∣ons, but being early, her thoughts hauing kept more carefull watch ouer her eies, thought it selfe growne peremptorie with such authority. She found none come, wherefore leauing the flocke to the charge of a young Lad of

hers, tooke her way towards the rocke, her mind faster going then her feete, busied still, like one holding the Compasse, when he makes a circle, turnes it round in his owne center: so did shee, her thoughts incircled in the igno∣rance of her being. From this she was a little mou'd by the comming of a pretie Lambe towards her, who with pitifull cries, and bleatings, demanded her helpe, or she with tender gentlenes imagined so; wherefore she tooke it vp, and looking round about if she could see the dam, perceiuing none, wan∣dred a little amongst bushes and rude places, till she grew something wearie, when sitting downe she thus began to speake: Poore Lambe, said she, what moane thou mak'st for losse of thy deare dam? what torments do I then suf∣fer, which neuer knew my mother? thy misse is great, yet thou a beast may'st be brought vp, and soone contented hauing food; but what food can bee gi∣uen me, who feede on nothing but Despaire, can that sustaine me? No, want of knowledge starues me, while other things are plentifull. Poore innocent thing; how doth thy wailing sute with mine? Alas, I pitie thee, my selfe in some kind wanting such a pitie. Then shee did heare a noise in the bushes, looking what it should be, she saw a fierce she-wolfe come furiously towards her: she, who (though a spirit matchlesse liued in her) perceiuing her, wish∣ed the beast further, yet taking her wonted strength of heart, and vertuous thoughts together, she thus said; O heauen defend me miserable creature if thou please; if not, grant me this blessing, that as I shall here end, not know∣ing any parents to sorrow for me, so those parents (if liuing) may neuer know my losse, lest they doe grieue for me. As shee thus religiously gaue her thoughts, and her last, as shee thought to the highest, the beast running to∣wards her of the sudden stood still; one might imagine, seeing such a heauenly creature, did amase her, and threaten for medling with her: but such conceits were vaine, since beasts will keepe their owne natures, the true reason being, as soone appear'd, the hasty running of two youths, who with sharpe speares, soone gaue conclusion to the supposed danger, killing the wolfe as shee stood hearkning to the noise they made. But they not seeing Vrania, who on her knees was praising God, said one to another, Alas, haue we hasted to kill this beast, which now is not for our turne, little helpe can this giue to our sicke father. Vrania then looked vp, hearing humane voices, which she so little expected, as onely death was that she looked for: but then per∣ceiued she two young men, whose age might bee iudged to bee some seuen∣teene yeares; faces of that sweetnesse, as Venus loue could but compare with them, their haire which neuer had been cut, hung long, yet longer much it must haue been, had not the daintie naturall curling somewhat shortned it, which as the wind mou'd, the curles so pretily plaid, as the Sunne-beames in the water; their apparrell Goates skinnes cut into no fashion, but made fast about them in that sort, as one might see by their sight they were wild; yet that wildnesse was gouern'd by modesty, their skinne most bare, as armes and leggs, and one shoulder, with part of their thighes; but so white was their skinne, as seem'd the Sunne in loue with it, would not hurt, nor the bushes so much as scratch; on their feete they had a kind of shooes, which came vp to the anckle. Thus they were before the Prime of Shepherdesses, who com∣ming to them, and saluting them, they stept back in wonder to see that beau∣tie, which yet in the masculine they came neere to, then laying admiration so

farre a part, as to keepe themselues safe from rudenesse in some kind, one of them began: Diuine creature, pardon this our boldnesse, which hath brought vs thus rudely to your presence, if we haue offended, let our humilitie in sor∣row excuse vs; or if this beast we haue kild was fauour'd by you, take vs who are rude men, to serue you in that stead: in the meane time accept our peti∣tion to bee forgiuen our fault. Vrania, who had before in their out-sides seene enough to be wondred at, hearing their speech, bred more admiration, she answered them; Your beauties mixt with so much mildnesse and sweet∣nesse, might pleade for you, if you had offended, which I saw not: but in ha∣uing giuen too much respect to me, the most miserable of women; nor any rudenes see I, but in that beast which you haue so manfully destroy'd: if your habits shew wildnesse, your speech takes away that error; nor haue you com∣mitted any fault, if not in sauing mee to liue to greater miseries. The young men then blushing, humbly thanking her, were taking their leaues, when she curteously desired them, that since they had rescued her, she might know the men that saued her, and the aduenture brought them thither. They answe∣red; Withall their hearts they would satisfie her demand, but for that time desired to be excused, since they were sent by their old weake father to get some food for him, which when they had done, they would returne to her. She hearing this; Alas (said she), shal you who haue kept me out of the throat of a rauening wolfe, want what I may helpe you to? Goe to your father, I will accompanie you; this Lambe shall feede him, at this time sent of pur∣pose without doubt, to cherish so good and blest a man, as is father to two such sonnes: and then may I know your storie and his together. They happy to see so fit a dish for his age, on their knees would haue thanked her, but she hindred them; and so together they went towards the place where hee re∣main'd, which was in a Caue vnder a great rock neere to the sea; when they a∣riu'd at the place, the elder of the two went in, telling the old man of the faire shepherdesses cōming, and her kindnes to him. Wherfore he sent out a yong maid, who was cloth'd in plaine (but neat) apparrell: of such beautie, as who had seene her alone, would haue thought her incomparable, but Vrania excel∣led her; meeting of her, knowing by the youth she was his sister, most sweet∣ly saluted her, taking her by the hand, went in, where they found the old man so feeble, as ••e had but his tongue left to serue himselfe or them withall: and well did it then serue him for the good of the young men, thus beginning to Vrania: Admired Shepherdes, and most worthy to bee so; since the inward beauty of your mind so much excells the peereles excellency of your outward perfections, as vertue excels beauty, see here a poore signe of greatnes, ouer∣whelm'd with misfortune, and be as you are, all excelling, a happy meanes to aidean els destroi'd hope of rising; sit down here, and grudge not me that ho∣nor; for before the story be ended, you wil see more reason to pity thē scorn, and you my sons & daughter come neere, for now shal you know that, which I haue til this present kept from you, for feare I shuld not els haue held you in this poore, but quiet liuing. They being ready to sit, & heare the story, a mans voice made thē stay, & Vrania intreated (as in lesse danger if seene then the o∣ther) to go forth, she perceiu'd a gentlemā of that delicacy for a mā, as she was struck with wōder; his sweetnes & fairnes such, as the rarest painters must con∣fes thēselues vnable to coūterfeit such perfections, & so exquisit proportion.

He had a mantle richly embroidered with pearle and gold, the colour of that and his other apparrell being watchet suitably imbrodered, his haire faire and shining, so young he was, as hee had but the signe of a beard; Armes he had none, saue a sword to defend himselfe, or offend his enemies, hee came softly and sadly on towards the rocke, but his eyes to the seaward: she beholding him, said; O sweet Iland, how mai'st thou indeed boast thy self for being the harbour of all excellent persons. He whose mind was distant from him, held his eyes and thoughts as at first fixt, beseeching the sea, if shee had Amphilanthus in her power, shee would be pitifull vnto him: after hee had concluded these words, he (whose soule was absent from him) lookt towards the Iland, when his eyes were soone called to admire, and admiringly behold the rare Shepherdesse, who in the same kind of wonder lookt on him. He ra∣uished with the sight, scarce able to thinke her an earthly creature, stood ga∣zing on her. She who poore soule had with the sight of Perissus, giuen leaue for loue to make a breach into her heart, the more easily after to come in and conquer, was in so great a passion, as they seem'd like two Master-pieces, fram'd to demonstrate the best, and choisest skill of art, at last (as men haue the stronger and bolder spirits) he went vnto her, not remouing his eyes in the least from hers, and with a braue, but ciuill manner thus spake vnto her. If you be, as you seeme an incomparable Shepherdesse, let me bee so much fa∣uour'd of you, as to be permitted to aske some questions: but if you be a hea∣uenly person as your rarenesse makes me imagine, let me know, that by the humble acknowledging my fault, I may gaine pardon. Alas Sir, said Vrania, so farre am I from a heauenly creature, as I esteeme my selfe the most misera∣ble on earth; wherefore if any seruice I can doe may pleasure you, I beseech you command me, so may I receiue some happinesse, which I shall obtaine in obeying you. What I will demaund, said he, shall be such things as you may easily grant, and by that make me your seruant. I desire to know what this place is, but most what you are: for neuer can I beleeue you are as you seeme, vnlesse for the greater wonder all excellencie, should be masked vnder this Shepherdesse attire. For the perfections in me, as you call them, said Vrania, were they not made perfect by so excellent a Speaker, would be of no more value, then the estimation I make of my poore beautie; touching your de∣maunds, I will as well as I can satisfie you in them. This Iland is called Pan∣talaria, gouern'd by an ancient worthie Lord called Pantalerius, who hauing receiu'd some discontent in his owne Countrie, with his family, and some o∣thers that lou'd and seru'd him, came hither, finding this place vnpossest, and so nam'd it after his owne name, hauing euer since in great quiet and pleasure remained here; himselfe and all the rest taking the manner and life of shep∣heards vpon them, so as now this place is of all these parts most famous for those kind of people. For my selfe I can say nothing, but that my name is Vrania, an old man and his wife hauing bred me vp as their owne, till within these few daies they told me that, which now more afflicts me, then the po∣uertie of my estate did before trouble me, making me so ignorant of my selfe as I know no parents. For they told me, that I was by them found hard by the sea-side, not farre from these rocks, laid in a cradle with very rich clothes about me, a purse of gold in the cradle, and a little writing in it, which warn'd them that should take me vp to looke carefully to me, to call me Vrania, and

when I came to sixeteene yeeres of age to tell this to me, but by no meanes before, this they haue truely performed, and haue deliuered me the mantle and purse, that by them, if good fortune serue, I may come to knowledge; inioyning me besides, not to keepe this my story secret from any, since this sweet place intising many into it, may chance to bring some one to re••ease me from this torment of Ignorance. It could not be otherwise, said he, since such sweetnes, and peerelesse louelynesse are match'd together. But now, said Vrania, let me know I beseech you, who I haue discouer'd my selfe vnto; Let vs sit downe, said he, vnder these Rockes, and you shall know both who I am, and the cause of my comming hither: Nay, answered Vrania, if it please you, let vs rather goe into a Caue hard by, where I haue left an olde weake man, ready to tell me his Story, hauing with him two of the finest youths, and a Maide of the rarest beauty that eye can behold, and desirous he is to speake, for long he cannot endure. So together they came into the Caue, the graue man reuerently with bowing downe his head, saluting him thus; Braue Sir, for Maiestie doe I perceiue in your countenance, which makes me giue you this title, Welcome to my poore abiding, and most wel∣come, since now I trust, I shall dispose of my Sonnes, according to my long wish and desire: sit I beseech you downe, and tell me who you are, that then I may discourse to you the lamentable fortune I and these my children are fallen into. The stranger sate downe betweene the old man and the ex∣cellent Shepherdesse, beginning his Tale thus. My name sa••d he, is Parse∣lius, Prince of Morea, being eldest Sonne vnto the King thereof, which Countrie I left with a deare friend of mine, who besides the vntying band of friendship we liue linked in, is my kinsman, and heire to the Kingdome of Naples, called Amphilanthus, resoluing not to returne, till wee had heard newes of a lost Sister of his, who in the first weeke after her birth was sto••ne away, since which time an old man, whether by diuination or knowledge, assured the King her Father, shee is liuing. Wherefore the most braue of Princes, Amphilanthus, resolu'd to seeke her, my selfe louing him as well, or better then my selfe, would not be denied to accompany him: for ha∣uing bene euer bred in neerenesse of affections, as well as in conuersation to∣gether, it could not be, but we must like the soule and body liue, and moue: so we betooke our selues to the Sea, leauing Morea, passing many aduen∣tures in diuers Countries, still seeking the least freq••ented, and priuatest pla∣ces keeping to the West, for that way wee were directed by the wise man. At last we arriu••d in Sicilie, which Country we found in great trouble, warres being broke out againe after the departure of Perissus, Nephew to the King, who had setled the State in good peace and quiet. But their hearts either not fully reconcil'd, or only reconciled to him, after his departure, which as we heard was strange and sudden, being neuer since heard of, they rebelled a∣gaine; but we soone appeas'd the busines, setling the King in his seat with all quiet and safety. Then did Amphilanthus and I, though against my heart, part our bodies, but neuer shall our minds be parted, he in one ship, taking I know not iustly what course, but I trust the happiest: my selfe guided by for∣tune, not appointing any one place to bend to, was brought hither, promi∣sing at our parting to meete at his Fathers Court in Italie within twelue moneths after. But shorter I hope now my iourney will bee, since I

verily beleeue, you most faire Shepherdesse are the lost Princesse, and rather doe I thinke so, because you much resemble Leonius, the younger brother to Amphilanthus, whose beautie in man cannot be equall'd, though surpassed by you. When he had concluded, the old man with teares thus said: O Almigh∣tie God, how great are thy blessings to me, that before I die, thou doft thus bring the most desired happinesse I could wish for, in sending hither that Prince, who onely can restore our good vnto vs. Most mighty and worthilie honourd Prince; see here before your royall presence, the vnfortunate king of Albania, who in the warres betweene Achaya and Macedon, taking part with Achaya, was beaten out of my country, and forced to wander, seeking safetie far from the place, where my safety ought most to haue been. I came to your fathers Court, it is true, poore, and vnlike a Prince, which sight tooke away so much as pitie; Courtiers, rather out of their brauery, contemning, then compassionating extremitie: besides, your Mother, being Sister to the Macedonian king then liuing, would not permit me any fauour, my king∣dome in the meane while spoild, and parted among such, as could preuaile by strength and policy to get shares. When I found my selfe in this misery, with my wife and some few friends we went away, leauing Morea, and al hope of gaining any good in Greece, following what course our stars would guide vs to, we came hither, where it pleased God to blesse vs with these two boies, and this daughter, after whose being seauen yeares old, she died. Yet for all it is, and was a ioy to me, to see of my owne for my posterity, finding that like∣lihood of princely vertues (as I hope) shalbe one day manifested, it hath grie∣ued mee to thinke how I should leaue them; but now my hopes are reuiued, since I trust that danger is past; your noble, and magnanimous vertues being such, as to take pitie of any, how much more then wil your honor be, to assist distressed Princes? And now may you well do it, since a seruant of mine, who I haue oft••n sent thither, to see how things passe, doth assure me, your Vncle is dead, and a mighty Lord being next heire-male, which by the lawes of the country was otherwise, hath got the Crowne, hauing inclosed your faire young cosin, right heire to the kingdom of Macedon, being only daughter to the late king, in a strong tower til she be of age, & then to marry her; or if shee refuse, to keep her there stil, and this is the best she can expect. Wherefore sir, thus you are bound to rescue her: then I beseech you take these two young men into your protection, who till now, knew no other, then that they were meane boies, I not daring to let them know their birth, lest those great spirits which liue in them, should haue led thē into some dangerous course: but still I haue kept them vnder, making them know hardnes and misery, the better still to endure it, if so crosse their fortunes be; or if they come to enioy their right, they may know the better to command, hauing so well learn'd to obey and serue. And most delicate Shepherdes, do you I pray accept of this young maid for your friend and companion, since if you bee the King of Naples daughter, or any other Princes, you need not scorne the companie of the Albanian Kings daughter. Parselius taking the old King in his arm••s; And is it my good fortune most famous King of Albania (said hee) to haue it in my power to serue so excellent a Prince? Doubt not then but I will with all faithfull loue and diligence (as soone as I haue concluded this ••earch, with meeting my dearest friend in Italie) goe into Morea, and

from thence carry such forces as shall (with my other friends I will ioyne with me) restore you to your right, and pull downe that Macedonian Vsur∣per, were it but for wronging you. But since I haue so faire an occasion to reuenge such iniuries offered so vertuous a Prince as your selfe, in keeping a kingdome, and vsurping another from his rightfull Queene, I am doubly bound: your sonnes I accept to bee my companions, and as brothers to me will I be carefull of them; the like did Vrania promise for the young Lady. Then the old king before ouer-charged with sorrow, was now so rauish∣ed with ioy, as not being able to sustaine, bursting into flouds of kind teares, and his soule turn'd into a passion of ioy vnsupportable, being onely able to kisse the Prince Parselius and Vrania, imbracing, blessing, and kissing his children, giuing them charge faithfully and louingly to obserue•• and loue that braue Prince, and sweet Shepherdes, like a child for quiet ending, gaue vp the ghost in their armes he best did loue. Great sorrow was made among them for his death; but then growing almost night, Vrania for that time went home, leauing the three to attend the Kings body till the next mor∣ning, directing Parselius to the sad abiding of the perplexed Perissus, pro∣mising to come to the Caue by Sunne rising to dispose of all things.

Vrania being come home, little meate contented her, making haste to her lodging, that there shee might discourse with her selfe of all her afflictions priuately, and freely, throwing her selfe on her bed, she thus beganne: Alas, Vrania, how doth miserie loue thee, that thus makes thee continuallie her companion? What is this new paine thou feel'st? What passion is this thy heart doth entertaine? I haue heard my ima∣gined Father, and many more, talke of a thing called Loue, and de∣scribe it to be a delightfull paine, a sought, and cherish'd torment, yet I hope this is not that: for ••laue am I enough already to sorrow, no neede haue I then to be oppressed with passion: Passion, O passion! yet thou rulest Me. Ignorant creature to loue a stranger, and a Prince, what hope hast thou, that because thou art not knowne, thou shouldst be knowne to loue in the best place? I had rather yet offend so then in a meane choice, since if I be daughter of Italy, I chose but in mine owne ranke, if meaner, ambition is more noble then basenesse. Well then, if I doe loue, my onely fault is in too soone louing; but neither in loue, nor choice: Loue pleade for me, since if I offend, It is by thy power, and my faults must, as made, be salu'd by thee. I confesse, I am wonne, and lost, if thou, braue Prince, pittie not, and saue me. Sweet Chastity, how did I loue, and honor thee? Nay, almost vowe my selfe vnto thee, but I haue fail'd, Loue is the more powerfull God, and I was borne his subiect: with that she rose vp and went to the window to see if it were day, neuer know∣ing before, what it was to wish for any thing (except the knowledge of her selfe) now longs for day, watches the houres, deemes euery minute a yeare, and euery houre an Age, till she againe inioy'd Parselius sight, who all that night tooke as little rest; hope, loue, and feare so vexing him, and tyrannizing ouer him, as sleepe durst not close, nor seaze his eyes to any the least slumber, all his content being in thinking on Vrania; wishing from his soule shee were the lost Princesse, that then they might happily inioy; which wish by loue was chid, since loue was able in him to make

her great enough, and those wishes were but to adde to that which ought to be so perfect, as it selfe should of it selfe be sufficient to make happines, which is the greatest greatnes. Then did he resolue, whatsoeuer she was, to make her his Wife; his Father, Country, Friend, and all must loue Vrania. Thus all must yeeld to her, or lose him already yeelded. Hee whose youth and man∣like conuersation scorn'd the poore name and power of loue is now become his Bondman, cries out on nothing but Vrania; thinks of nothing, hopes for nothing, but the gaine of her perfections to his loue: accusing this night for spitefully being longer then any other that euer he knew, affection and desire making it appeare tedious vnto him, and why? because it kept Vrania from him. O (would he say) how happy wert thou Parselius to land on this shore, where thou hast gaind the Goddesse of the earth to bee thy Mistris, Vrania to be thy loue? But then would a louers feare take him, making him trem∣blingly sigh and say; But if she should not loue again, wretch of all men, what would become of thee? Courage then ioyning with hope, would bring him from that sad despaire, giuing him this comfort; Yet sure (said he) her heart was not fram'd of so excellent temper, her face of such beauty, and her selfe wholly made in perfectnesse, to haue cruelty lodged in her: No, shee was made for loue, then she must loue; and if so, pity will claime some part; and if any, or to any, who more deserues it then my selfe, who most affecteth her•• With that he went to the mouth of the rocke, from whence he might disco∣uerall the plaines, carefully and louingly beholding them: You blessed Plaines (said he) which daily haue that treasure, which the rest of the world wanting, confesseth sence of pouerty; dull earth, ignorant of your riches, nei∣ther knowing, nor caring how to glory sufficiently for bearing, and continu∣ally touching such perfections, why dost not thou with all excellencies striue to delight her? sending forth soft and tender grasse, mixt with sweetest flowers when she will grace thee, suffering thee to kisse her feete as shee doth tread on thee? but when she lies on thee, dost thou not then make thy selfe delicate, and change thy hardnes to daintines and softnes? Happy, most hap∣py in her sweet weight; and yet when she doth leaue thee do not the flowers vade, and grasse die for her departure? Then hee perceiu'd her comming a farre off downe the plaines, her flocke some feeding but most leaping, and want only playing before her. And well may you doe this most lucky flocke (said hee) hauing such a Commandresse, and so faire a Guardian: well doth ioy become you, shewing you sensibly doe know the blessing you in∣ioy. But what will you doe when she shall leaue you? leaue this pleasure, pine, starue, and die with so great miserie. Alas I pity you, for such a change will bee. And what wilt thou, sweet Iland, doe? let in the sea, be drown'd, and lose thy pleasant solitarines. Hauing thus said, he left the desolate rock, and went to meete her, who with equall loue and kindnesse met him; such indeed was their affection, as can be expressed by nothing but it selfe, which was most excellent. When the first passion was past, which ioy gouern'd for sight, loue taking the place of speech: Ah Vrania (said he); how did the Sun show himselfe in his brig••te••t and most glorious habits to entertaine thee in these meades, coueting to win thy fauour by his richnesse triumphing in his hope of gaine? What mou'd thy sight then in my soule? Think you not it grew to rauishing of my sences? The Sunne (said she) shin'd (mee

thought, most on you, being as if so fond, as he did giue himselfe to be your seruant, circling you about, as if he meant, that you should be the body, and himselfe serue for your beames. With that he tooke her hand, and with an affectionate soule kissed it, then went they together to the Caue where the two yong sauage Princes, and their Sister attended them: then did they priuately bury the old King, promising (if businesses went well, that they by Parselius fauour might recouer their right) to fetch his worthy body, and lay it with the other famous Kings of Albania.

This being agreed vpon they went out of the Caue, Steriamus and Selarinu (for so the yong Princes were called) went first in their sauage habits, which they resolued to weare till they came where they might fit themselues with apparell, and Armes befitting their Estates: Parselius then promising to knight them: Next after them went the Morean Prince leading Vrania, and she holding Selarina by the hand. Being come into the Plaine, Parselius againe speaking to Vrania, vrged the likely-hood of her being the lost Princesse, be∣sides, assuring her, howsoeuer, of no lower an Estate if she would goe with him. She made him this answer. A Prince, said she, can demand or pro∣mise but Princely things; I beleeue you to be so, because you say so; and that face, me thinkes, should not dissemble, out of this I credit you, and so consent to goe with you; then nobly and vertuously, as I trust you, dispose of me. He casting vp his eyes to Heauen, Let me, nor my attempts pro∣sper, said he, when I breake faith and vertuous respect to you; now let vs to the Ship. Nay, I beseech you first, said shee, permit me to take my leaue of my good friends, and formerly supposed Parents, lest my absence bring their death, if ignorant of my fortune: besides, wee will carry the mantle and purse with vs. He soone agreed vnto it, and so together they went to the house, the late abiding of the matchlesse Shepherdesse, where they found the good old folkes sitting together before the doore, expecting the returne of Vrania. But when they saw her come so accompanied, they wondred at it; and though poore, yet were they ciuill, wherefore they went towards them, and hearing by the faire Shepherdesse who the Princes were, kneeled downe, and would haue kissed the hand of Parselius: but he who respected them for their care of Vrania, would not permit them to doe so much reuerence, lif∣ting them vp, and imbracing them, told them the same story of his trauell, and cause thereof, as he had done to Vrania, and then concluded, that the likeli∣hood of her being that sought for Princesse, was the reason why they agreed to goe together, he promising to conduct her safely into Italy, and if she pro∣ued the Princesse, to deliuer her to her father, which verily he beleeued he should doe; and seldome doe mens imaginations in that kind faile, especially hauing so good grounds to lay their hopes vpon. The old folkes sorry to part with Vrania, yet knowing she was not ordain'd to tarry with them, would not seeme to contradict their wills: wherefore fetching the mantle and purse with the little writing deliuered them to Vrania, whose good disposition was such, as she could not refraine from teares when shee parted with them, they wishing their age would haue permitted them to haue attended her, but being feeble it was not for them to trauell, especially to go so vncertaine a iourney, but in their place they desired their daughter might serue her; which she willingly consented to.

Thus euerything concluded, they tooke their leaues, and way to the Ship, which they found where Parselius had left her, but not as hee had parted from her; for much more company was in her, and a strange encounter, he found his Seruants Prisoners, his Armes possess'd, and all his goods in the hands of a Pirat: yet had he gouern'd it so, as this mis-aduenture was not dicouer'd till they were aboord. Parselius alone in regard of his com∣pany and some women, would neuerthelesse, haue ventured his life to haue kept Vrania free, such was his loue, by none to be surpassed: his compassi∣on likewise was great on the other Princesse; in himselfe, feeling the iust cause, as he thought, they had to mistrust him, and his promises to be value∣lesse, this accident being the first of their hoped for ioyes.

But shee, whose truth in beliefe would not permit her to haue the least part of suspition to enter, much lesse, lodge in her breast against him, hin∣dered that braue (but doubtfull) attempt, vsing these speeches to him.

Be satisfied, my dearest friend, said she, and hazard not your selfe in this kinde, seeking to alter what is ordain'd by Fate, and therefore not to be changed: but rather giue vs example, as confidently, and mildly to suffer this aduersity, as happily we might haue enioyed the other we expected. He onely with a languishing, but (to her) louing looke, answer'd her, when the Pirat, contrarie to their expectation, came, and kneeling downe before Vrania, vsed these words.

Let not, fairest Princesse, this accident trouble you, since your imprison∣ment shall bee no other then the command of mee, and mine: neither most noble Sir, be you, or these other offended•• for sooner will I doe vio∣lence on my selfe then any way wrong those that come with this Lady: Bee patient, and you shall soone see, the cause of my taking this no∣ble prey; this said, he rose, and placing them all on fine seats in the Cabine, where lately the Prince had sate free from both the bands of loue, and im∣prisonment, himselfe sitting before them began his discourse in this manner (while the ship vnder saile was guided the way which he directed the Pilar) My name (said he) is Sandringall, borne and bred in the land of Romania, be∣ing seruant to the King thereof: this King liued long as one may say, the fa∣uorite of fortune, being blest in his gouernment with peace, and loue of his people, but principally happy in two children, a son, and a daughter, yonger by some yeares then her brother, he being called Antisius, and she Antisia; promising in their youthes all comfort to succeed in their age: but destinie herein commanded, disposing quite other waies, and thus it was. The King my Master hauing in his youth been a braue and valiant Prince, giuing him∣selfe vnto the seeking and finishing aduentures, a strict league of friendship grew betweene him, and the King of Achaia, for whose sake he left his coun∣try, with a great army assisting him against his Macedonian ••nemie: after re∣turning with honor and content, the Achaian King gratefull for such a cur∣tesie, being growne in yeares, sent Embassadours to demand his daughter in marriage for his sonne, and withall to haue the Princesse sent vnto him, to be brought vp together, to the end, that conuersation (a ready friend to loue) might nurse their affections so wel, as she might as contentedly be his daugh∣ter, as it was affectionately desired of him. His sonne, as towardly a Prince as those parts had, called Leandrus, with whom few Christian Princes will

compare, except the two Cousens Parselius and Amphilanthus: but to my dis∣course. My Master soone consented to the Achayan kings demand, which al∣though for the farnesse of the country he might haue refused; yet the neere∣nes of their loues was such, as he could not deny him, or his request, resoluing instantly to send the one halfe of his happinesse to his old friend; and for this end he sent for me, but herewithal begins my miserie, caused by my treache∣rie, which heartily I repent, and am ashamed of. I being arriued at his Court, out of an ancient confidence which he had of my loialtie to him, committed this charge vnto me, to see his Antissia carefully conducted and deliuered to the king of Achaya: giuing me directions, and counsel how to carry my selfe; besides sole authority and power in this embassage. Thus we departed, my wife attending on her person; accompanied we were with most of the nobi∣lity, their loues being such, as they parted not til they saw the yong Princesse shipp••d. Couetousnes (a dangerous sin in this time) bred in my wife (seeing the infinite riches the father had sent with his child); her perswasions besides (or rather ioyn'd to the diuelish sense of gaine) made me consent to detesta∣ble wickednes. Led by this wicked subtilty, we resolu'd not to take our way to Achaya, but to put in to some Island, there to sell the Iewels, and leaue the Princesse in a religious house, not to bee knowne while her deare Parents should esteeme her lost, we vsing the gaine to our owne profits. More cun∣ningly to carry this, we sent a seruant of ours before into the ship, with such prouision as our plot required, towards night, the sweete young Lady embarqued, with beliefe to go into Achaya; we purposing nothing lesse: for in the dead time of the night wee set the ship on fire, hauing before (when most slept) conuaide the treasure into the long boate: then with as much a∣masement as any (nothing like the bellows of that fuell) I tooke the Princesse in mine armes leaping into the boate, calling to my wife to follow me, with∣all cutting the cord, lest others should leape in: she leaped, but short, her fin so heauy drowning her, and my trusty seruant, with al the knights, in number twenty, and the Ladies sent to attend Antisia were drown'd, or burnd, or both. Then play'd I the waterman, making towards the next shore we could discouer; day breaking gaue vs sight of one, yet only for flattring hope to play withall, not to be enioy'd, for instantly were we set on by rouers, who kept about these coasts. The Princesse they tooke from me, and all the treasure, leauing me in the boate, and towing it by the ship in the midst of the sea, left mee with bread and water for two dayes, but without oare, sayle, or hope; yet such, and so fauourable was my destinie, as within that time a Pirat scou∣ring the seas tooke mee vp, who not long after was set vpon by another. But then did the first arme me to serue him, which in gratitude I did, and so well defended him, as we had the victorie by the death of the other, slaine with my hand: for requitall hereof, he bestowed the new won Barke vpon mee, and men to serue me. Glad was I of this, hauing meanes to search for the Princesse, which I vowed with true and humble repentance to performe, ne∣uer giuing ouer, till I had found the lost Antisia, or ended my life in the ser∣uice. And this is the reason I took you, for hauing landed here, and by chance seene you, I straight remembred your face, wherefore I determin'd by some way or other to compasse the meanes to get you before my parting hence; and had not this happy occasion befalne mee, some other had not failed

to atchiue my purpose. Then tell me where haue you been these ten yeeres•• for so long it is since you were lost: and with all I beseech you let my sub∣mission and repentance gaine my pardon. Truly (said Vrania) you haue told so ill a tale, as if I were the lost Princesse, I should scarce forget so great an in∣iury: but satisfie your selfe with this, and the hope of finding her, while you haue in your power one, who (alas) is lost too. The Pirat at this grew much troubled and perplext, for so vnaduisedly hauing discouered his former ill: thus they remaind, the Pirat vext, Vrania grieu'd, Parselius in soule tormen∣ted, the others moued as much, as respect in them to the other two, could moue in noble minds, least, or not at all, thinking of themselues, in compari∣son of them: all sitting with armes cross'd, and eyes cast downe vpon the earth, except the Pirat, whose mind was busied with higher thoughts, none knowing to what end they would haue ascended, had not a voice awaked them, which came from a Sayler, who bad them prepare. This called not the rest from their sorrow, nor moued Vrania so much as to heare it, who sate not tearelesse, though speechles, while her sighes accompanied the wind in loud blowing. Sandringal looking forth, saw the cause of the cry proceeded from the sight of the great Pirat of Syracusa, whose force was therabouts too well knowne: then did he take his armes, deliuering Parselius his own into his hands, intreating his aide. Parselius lifted vp his eies, and as he raised them, he placed them on Vrania, as the sphere where they alone should moue, vsing these words: Now haue we some hope, since once more I possesse my armes: those (in shew) sauage youths helping him. By this time was the other ship come to them, when there began a cruell fight betweene them: being grap∣led, Parselius encountred the chiefe Pirat, Sandringal a blacke Knight, who was so strong and valiant, as Sandringal gaind much honour so long to hold out with him. Parselius kild his enemy, when at that instant the black Knight strake the head of Sandringal from his shoulders; which Parselius seeing, Farewel Sandringal (said he), now are Antissia and Leandrus well reueng'd for thy treason. With that the black Knight commanded his part to bee quiet, himselfe throwing downe his sword, and pulling of his helme, ran and imbra∣ced Parselius, who knowing him to be Leandrus, with as much affection held him in his armes: thus was the busines ended, all growing friends by their ex∣ample. Then were al the prisoners brought forth of both the ships, amongst whom he knew one to be the Squire of his deare friend and Cousen, Amphi∣lanthus, and two Gentlemen who had mortall hatred (as it did appeare) one vnto the other: for no sooner came they together, but they would haue buf∣feted each other, wanting weapons to doe more; the one of them Leandrus tooke into his custody, while the other began his story thus. My Lords (said he) first let me beseech pardon for this rudenes; next, claime iustice on this villaine, who hath not only wrong'd me, but in his vnmannerly discourse in∣iur'd the brauest Christian Princes; and that you may know the truth, giue me liberty to speake this to you. My name is Allimarlus, borne in Romania, and Page I was vnto the King thereof; but being come to mans estate, and so much knowledge, as to see and commiserate my Masters misery, which had the floud from two springs; the first was the losse of his daughter Antissia, be∣ing sent vnder the conduct of his faithfull (as he esteemed) seruant Sandringal (who so well hee trusted, as hee would haue ventured his life in his hands;

which appeared in putting the faire Antissia in his power, who as himselfe he loued) to be deliuered to the King of Achaia, desiring a match betweene her and the kings sonne, called the hopefull Leandrus; but in the way the ship was spoild by an vnlucky fire, and she (as it was coniectured) lost, which since proued otherwise, not being swallowed by the vnmercifull sea, but betraide by her Guardian, and stolne againe from him by Rouers; since which time little newes hath been heard of her, sauing hope of her liuing. The other, and greater affliction was, and is, a wicked woman he hath made his wife, after the death of his vertuous Queene, who died as soone as shee had seene her wor∣thily beloued Sonne Antissius blessed with a Sonne, whom they called after his owne name, who hauing indured a long and paineful search for his Sister, at his returne tooke a sweet and excellent Lady, called Lucenia to wife; who, though she were not the fairest, yet truly was she beautifull, and as faire as a∣ny in goodnesse, which is the choisest beauty. But this second marriage made them first know miserie, the king old, and passionately doting on her: shee young, politique and wicked, being the widow of a Noble man in the Coun∣trie, whose beastlines and crueltie cost the Prince his life, and bred the ruine of the State, as I haue since my departure from thence, vnderstood by a Knight of that Country. But to my discourse: The King one day after hee had banished his sonne Antissius the Court, and by her damnable counsell put such iealousie into his head, as hee now feared and hated him, that once was three parts of his ioy. This and the losse of his other comfort Antissia, did so perplexe him, as one day being at dinner, he began with teares to speake of Antissius, blaming his vnnaturalnesse to him in his age, who had so tenderly and louingly cherished his youth: but little of that she would suffer him to discourse of, lest his deserued pitie might haue hindred her ends, and so her plots haue faild, or been discouered. Then spake he of his young friend and once hoped for son Leandrus, who in search of Antissia, was said to be slaine, by reason that his Squire return'd to the Court (after long seeking his Lord, who by misaduenture hee had lost), bringing his armour shrewdly cut and battered, which he had found in a meadow, but no newes of his Master; only this probabilitie of his losse a country fellow gaue him, telling him, that gal∣lant men in gay armours had not farre off performed a gallant fight, wherein some were killed, and one Knights body carried thence by a Lady, who fol∣lowed the Knight, hauing but one more with her, whither they went, or more of the matter, he could not tell. With this and the armour he return'd to the old King, who the kindest of fathers, did accordingly suffer for this too likely disaster. From that he fell to the last and first of his misfortune, spea∣king of Antissia, and bewailing her losse: concluding, How miserable am I of all men, that doe liue to lament for these many afflictions? one child dead by his liuing vndutifulnes, the other lost by treachery in a man I most trusted; and to be besides, the occasion to bereaue my dearest friend of his only com∣fort, which as one of my equall sorrowes I esteeme. I seeing his vexati∣on, and iust cause of mourning, offered my best seruice in seeking the Prin∣cesse, who not being dead, I might hope to find, and bring some content vnto his age. Hee hearing mee say this, fell vpon my necke, kissing my forehead, and yet weeping so, as they resembled the watry and parting kisses the sweet Riuers giue the sweeter bankes, when with ebbing they must

leaue them: so did his teares, so did his kisses on my face, both meet and part; at last his ioy-mixt sorrow let him speake these words: And wilt thou O Al∣limarlus doe this for me? shall I yet find so true a friend? a seruant, and a faithfull one (said I) who will not liue, if not to serue you, and so my faith to liue in me. Then he tooke me vp in his armes, and calling for a sword of his, which he had worne in most of his aduentures, gaue that with the honour of Knighthood to me; then kissing his hands and the Queenes, I took my leaue. He, though glad to find my loyaltie, and hoping to heare some newes of his daughter, yet was sorry to part with me: so few were left that he could trust, his kind wife hauing taken care that her Minions and fauorites should most attend his person.

Long time was I not landed in Greece, in that part called Morea, before I met an old man, who told me something of the Princesse, but nothing of her certaine aboad: yet I reioyced to heare of her, not doubting but to bring her to delight her grieued father, who neuer indeed tasted of true happinesse since her losse, that being the thread to his succeeding miseries. That old man likewise told me, I was in my way of finding her, if I held on to Laconia. I earnestly desired his company, which he affoorded me, and so we went to∣gether, resoluing still to enquire, and to leaue no likely place vnsought in all Greece, till we had found her. A prettie space we thus continued, the old man passing away the time with good discourse, which made the way seeme shorter, telling me many aduentures which had befalne him in his youth, ha∣uing led the life that most braue spirits vse; but one I best remember (being his owne story, the place wherein we then were producing it), it was this, and in truth worthy of note. Whatsoeuer I now, faire Knight, (said he) ap∣peare to be, know I am in birth quite contrary: poore, and alone now, once a Duke, and one of the mightiest, richest, ancientest, and sometimes happiest of these parts; this countrie wherein you are, being mine, onely subiect in ho∣mage to the famous King of Morea; my education had been most in the court; my time, some spent there, some time abroad: but weary at last of either, as a hound wil be, who neuer so wel louing hunting, wil at last take rest: so did I lie downe at mine owne home, determining to end my daies in quiet plente∣ousnes, taking my own delight; to adde vnto which, I brought with me a ver∣tuous Lady, and such a one, as might for goodnes equal any of her ranke, and truly not vnbeautifull: yet so much was I besotted on a young man, whom I had vnfortunatly chosen for my companion, as at last all delights & pastimes were to me tedious and lothsome, if not liking, or begun by him. Nay, my wiues company in respect of his, was vnpleasing to me. Long time this conti∣nued, which continuance made me issue-les, wherfore I made him my heire, giuing him all the present honor I could in my own power, or by the fauor of the king (who euer grac'd me much) procure him. But he the son of wicked∣nes, though adopted to me, esteeming possessiō far better then reuersiō, gaue place so much to couetousnesse, as murder crept into credit to attaine the profit, wherefore he practised to make me away: my friends and kindred had before left me, expecting nothing but my ruine, seeing me so bewitch'd with my vndoing. The plot was laid, and I thus betraide where most I trusted; the time being come for the execution, the hired man (being mine more for iustnesse, then his for rewards) came vnto me, and vpon promise

of secresie discouered the truth vnto me, making me besides promise, to be perswaded by him; which was, for some time to retire my selfe, till a party were made in the Countrey strong enough to pull downe his pride, who had gained such power, as he was grown more powerfull then my selfe, then might I be my selfe, and rule in safety. I consented to the concealing, but neuer could be wonne, to thinke of harming him, whose vngratitude I be∣leeu'd sufficiently would one day burden him. But how often did I entreat and beseech him to performe his part, and satisfie his Master in killing me? whose falsenesse and wickednesse more grieu'd me, then ten deathes (could I haue suffer'd so many) yet his honest car•• ouer-ruled me, and I submitted to his Counsel. Then tooke he my clothes, apparelling me fit for the change of my fortune: He, (poore man) returning to my Castle, for so till then it was, credibly reporting, that I going to swimme, as often I did in this sweet Riuer which runnes along this Valley, I was drown'd (wee being then in that place, and indeed, the sweetest in the world.) This in some kind was true, said he, for drown'd I was in sorrow and teares: which, could they haue made a streame for bignesse answerable to their swift falling, had que∣stionlesse made his fram'd report true. This being told the Duke, as then by my imagined death, imaginarily he was, did make shew of insupportable griefe being so possest, as he seemed dispossed of senses, furiously, and sud∣denly stabbing the good man, who for my life lost his owne: This was coun∣ted a passionate act, Loue transporting him so much beyond himselfe, as he was not able to resist his owne furie, while his deuillish cunning did both set a Glosse vpon his brutishnesse, and keepe his Treason vnreueal'd: the poore soule falling dead at his feet, while he said, take this for thy detested newes bringing. Then did he make a solemne funeral for my dead mind, though liuing bodie, He apparrell'd himselfe, and his Court in mourning, which gaue much content to the people who loued me, while indeed, their black was but the true picture of his inward foulenes. My wife did presently retire to a house her selfe had built: but when he had (as he thought) suffici∣ently plaid with the people, he began to exercise his authority, beginning with my wife, picking a quarrell to bereaue her of her estate, which he in short time did, turning her to seek her fortune: Patiently she tooke it, hauing yet some Iewels left her, she bought a little house in a thick and desart wood, where she was not long before I came vnto her, discouering my selfe to both our equall passions of ioy and sorrow. Priuatly we there continued many yeares; God in our pouerty giuing vs an vnexpected blessing, which was a daughter, who grew vp and serued vs; for a seruant our meanes would not al∣low vs, though our estates requir'd it. Seuenteene yeares we thus concealed liu'd, but then, as ioies, so tortures will haue end; The Duke in all pleasure and plenty, I in miserie, and pouery. One day the young Prince accompanied with his most noble companion Amphilanthus, (who for the honour of Greece was bred with him) and many other braue young Nobles who atten∣ded them, went forth to see a flight at the brooke; when after a flight or two the Princes Hawke went out at checke, which made them all follow her, and so long, as at the last (for rescue of my afflictions) they were brought to my poore abiding, which by reason of the farrnesse from the Court, and foulnes of the weather, (a sudden storm then falling) they accepted for their lodging:

which although so meane as could be, yet they pleased to like it, rather loo∣king into my heart for welcome (where they found it) then into the mean∣nesse of the place.

After they had refreshed themselues and discoursed freely with me, it pleased my Prince to say, that my estate and life, agreed not with my con∣uersation: wherefore he would not be denied, but needes must know the truth; which out of obedience, more then desire, with heart-tearing griefe I discoursed to him. He gaue few words for answer, but commanded me the next day with my Wife and Daughter to attend him to the Court, which faine I would haue refused; foreseeing (that which soone after ••ol∣low'd) the destruction of my once most loued friend: who, though hee had chang'd gratefulnesse to the contrary, and loue to hate, yet my affection could not so much alter it selfe as to hate where once so earnestly I affected, or seeke reuenge on him, whose good I euer wished. But we obeyed; then the sweet young Prince presented me to his Father, who instantly called me to minde, remembring many aduentures, which in our youths We had pas∣sed together: pittying my fortune as much as he had in younger daies af∣fected me, yet glad in some kind, to recompence my faithfull seruice to him; instantly sent for the Vsurper, who by reason of a iourney the King made to see his Realme, and shew it to his Sonne before his departure, who was to goe thence with his excellent Cousen in a search by them vndertaken, was come neere to the place of the Tyrants abode. He refused to come, but soone by force he was brought before the King; who with milde fashion, and royall Maiestie examined the businesse, which he confessed: but rather with a proud scorne, then repentant heart: wherefore the King with iust iudgement degraded him, committing him to a strong Tower, whereinto he was walled vp, meate giuen him in at the windowe, and there to ende his dayes: which were not long, pride swelling him so with scorne of his fall, as he burst and dyed.

The Dukedome after this sentence was restored to me: but truely, I was not able so to recouer my former losse, wherefore humbly thanking the King, and his Sonne, besought them to giue mee leaue to bestow it on my Daughter; which was granted me, my wife thinking she had seene enough when I was my selfe againe, departing this life with ioy and content. Be∣sides, I made one suit more, which was, that since the Prince had with so much fauour begun to honour mee, it would please ••im to proceed so far as to bestow one of his young Lords in marriage on my Daughter. The King and Prince both tooke this motion most kindely, wherfore choosing a hope∣full young Lord, and him the Prince most loued, gaue him to her: the mar∣riage was with much honour celebrated in the Court, at which for their vn∣speakable honour, Parselius (for so the Prince is called) and Amphilanthus Prince of Naples, were made Knights; and brauely for the beginning of their succeeding glory began those sports of Field, as since haue made them fa∣mous ouer the world. This ended, I went away kissing the Kings and Prin∣ces hands, vndertaking a Pilgrimage: which performed, I returned to this place, where like an Hermit still I liue, and will continue while life is in mee; this Valley, those sleepie woody Hilles, and the Caue I rest in, shall bee all the Courts or Pallaces that these old eyes shall euer now behold. As thus we

trauelled on, determining to conclude that daies iourney with the end of his story, and resting in his Cell that night, we were called from that resolution by a noise within the wood, of Horse, and clashing of Armour, which drew me to see what the matter was. Arriuing at the place, we found two gentle∣men cruelly fighting, and by them many more slaine: but that which most amazed vs, was, that hard by them on the ground, was one of the Mirrours for beauty to see her selfe liuely in, so faire indeed, is she, and such a fairenes hath she, as mine eyes neuer saw her equall, if not that rare Shepherdesse by you, or the incomparable Lady Pamphilia, Sister to the noble Prince Parselius, who I need but name, the world being sufficiently filled with his fame. This Lady lay along, her head vpon her hand, her teares ranne in as great abundance, as if they meant to preserue themselues in making some pretty brooke of truest teares, her breath shee tooke rather in sighes and sobs, then quiet breathing, yet did not this alter the colour, or feature of her heauenly beauty: but resembling the excellent workmanship of some delicatly proportion'd fountaine, which lets the drops fall without hurting it selfe: or like a showre in Aprill, while the Sunne yet continues cleare and bright and so did she seeme to our eyes.

As we were admiring her, there came a Knight in blacke Armour, his Shield sutable to it without any Deuice, who not seeing the Lady, step'd to the two Combatants, willing them to hold their hands, till hee did vn∣derstand the cause of their enmitie; They refusing it, turn'd both on him, one stricking him forcibly on the shoulder, he seeing their rudenesse, and feeling himselfe smart, forgot parting, and made himselfe a party, sticking one of them such a blow as made him fall dead at his feet. Whereupon the other yeelded, deliuering his Sword, and turning to the Lady, who now the Knight saw, with admiration for her fairenesse and sorrow, vnbinding her and sitting downe by her, finding I was likewise a stranger, call'd me, and the good Hermit to heare the discourse which the vanquished man deliuer'd in this manner.

Two of these which here you see lye slaine were halfe brothers, Sonnes to one mother; the one of them my Master; who on a day, after a long chase of a Stagge, happened into a Merchants house, not farre hence, where this Lady did then remaine: They were ciuilly and courteously entertained for being Gentlemen well borne, and in their fashion pleasing, they were respected, and belou'd of most; neuer hauing attempted, or to mans know∣ledge imbraced, or let in a thought contrary to vertue till their comming thither, where they resolu'd of a course worse then man could of man ima∣gine, if not proud by experience. For there they saw that Ladie, desir'd her, and plotted to obtaine her, purposing with all ill meaning to enioy her, nothing being able to giue other ende to their wicked mindes but this•• whereto their beastlinesse, and true iustice hath brought them: hauing made this place their bed of death, as it was meant for their lasciuious de∣sires. Great they did imagine her of birth, by the honour done vnto her; this was another spurre to their deuillish longing; yet to be certaine, with a good fashion dissembling their inward intent, (as well they could, for they were Courtiers) intreated the Merchant to tell who this Lady was, that they might accordingly honour and respect her. Hee told them her name

was Antissia, and that she was daughter to the great king of Romania, betrai∣ed by her Guardian, taken from him againe by Rouers, and sold by them on this coast, at the Towne call'd S. Anzolo, where I a Merchant (said he) bought her; they not knowing who they sold, nor I what I had bought: till some daies after she her selfe (intreating me no more to suffer her to be made mer∣chandize, but to carry her to her father, who would reward me sufficiently for my paines) told me the vnexpected secret. The brothers hearing this, inflamed more then before, beauty first inticing them, then ambition wrought to compasse a kings daughter to their pleasure; much commending them∣selues for placing their loues so worthily, yet still forgetting how vnworthie and dishonourable their loue was. Desire makes them now politike, casting all waies how they might betray her; consulting together, they at last con∣cluded, to get the Princesse into the Garden to walke, hauing before appoin∣ted these slaine men to attend at a doore, which opened into the field, which they opening, perswaded her to goe out a little into so sweet an aire: she fea∣ring nothing went with them, when no sooner she was forth, but shee found she was betrayd; crying for helpe would not auaile her, yet the pitifulnesse of it brought forth most of the house, who perceiuing what was intended and neere acted, no fury could be compar'd to theirs (and furie indeed it was) for they but fiue, and vnarmed, attempted to rescue her from vs, being all these; and two of them so amorous, as they in that raging passion (loue being at the best a mild frenzie) would haue been able, or thought themselues so, to haue withstood them, and many more, especially their Mistris being in pre∣sence. This noise also brought forth the good womā, wife to the honest mer∣chant, where began so pitifull a monefull complaining betweene her and this Princesse, as truly mou'd compassion in all, my heart I am sure weeping for them: yet the mad Louers had sense of nothing but their worst desires. With these words the Princesse fell into a new sorrow, which the Knight perceiuing (whose heart was neuer but pitifull to faire Ladies) perswaded the sad Antissia so well, as he proceeded; Then being possest of the Ladie, my Master led the way, bringing his brother and vs to this banket; this place being set downe for her dishonor, but destin'd for their graues. Then grew a strife for the first enioying of her, so farre it proceeded, as from words they fell to blowes, and so in short time to this conclusion: for they fighting, wee following our Masters example, followed them in death likewise all but my selfe, and I now at your mercy. He had but concluded his storie, when I pul∣ling of my helmet, kneeling downe to the Princesse, told her who I was, and likewise my search for her, which she (with as much ioy as on a sudden could enter into so sad a mind) receiu'd with gratious thankfulnes. Now had the black Knight in like manner discouer'd his face, which so excellent in loueli∣nes, I cannot say fairenes, as the whitest beauty must yeeld to such a sweetnes; and yet doth his mind as farre excell his person, as his person doth all others that I haue seene, and so will all allow, for this was Amphilanthus; who with mild, yet a princely manner, told the Princesse, That she might leaue her sor∣row being falne into his hands, where she should haue all honor and respect, and within short time by himselfe bee deliuer'd to her father. But first hee was to performe his promise to his dearest friend and Cosen Parselius in meeting him in Italy, the time prefixed being almost expired, and his search

vt••erly fruitlesse. But I pray sir (said Parselius) how came that braue Prince againe into Morea? By a violent storme (said he), wherein he suffer'd ship∣wrack. This done, Amphilanthus, Antissia, the Hermit, and my selfe, tooke our waies to the Merchants house, whom we found return'd, but ready again to haue left his house, fill'd with discontent and passion for the vnhappy ac∣cident: his wife in that desperate griefe as hardly could shee haue endured with life, had not the blessed returne of Antissia giuen comfort, like life vn∣to her sorrowes. The seruant to the slaine Knight guided vs within sight of the house: but then with pardon and liberty of going his owne way, he de∣parted.

That night we rested there, the next morning parted our selues; Amphilan∣thus, Antissia, the Merchant and his wife, took their iourny together towards the Court, there to leaue her till he had found Parselius, and so end his vow; the old Hermit returnd to his priuate deuotions, my self took my way to the next port, to ship my selfe for Romania, in the same ship was also this man, who hearing me discourse of my aduentures with the Master of the ship, gaue ill language of Amphilanthus, then of Parselius, saying, they were Co∣soners, and not Princes, but some odde fellowes taking good names vpon them, since it was very vnlikely so great persons should be so long suffered abroad, and trauell in such a sort alone, and more like runne-awaies, then Princes. These much moued mee: but to put mee quite out of patience, hee went on, giuing vilder, and more curst speeches of my owne Lord: this made mee strike him, and so wee fell together so close, as one or both had dyed for it, had not the company parted vs; and after wee had againe gon to it, but that this ship came and tooke vs, and so made vs Priso∣ners to saue our liues. But now Sirs, if you doe not iustice, you wrong your selues, in not reuenging so great an iniurie done to the brauest Prin∣ces.

Parselius replide: Wee were not worthie to liue, if wee did not right so worthy a Gentleman as your selfe, and reuenge the wrong done to so great Princes, whose greatnesse yet cannot keepe ill tongues in awe suf∣ficientlie, but that in absence they are often wronged; and therefore friends must reuenge that, which they ignorant of otherwise may suffer. But herein wee may bee thought partiall; for this Knight you see is Le∣andrus, my selfe Parselius, one of the cousoning Princes (as it pleased his honestie to call mee): I would aduise therefore, that this rare Shepher∣desse should appoint him his punishment. The young Knight kneeled downe to haue kissed the handes of the two Princes: they taking him vp, gaue him thankes for his discourse, commending him much for his loyaltie and valour.

Vrania, (who was as heartily angry as the Knight) seeing her Parselius thus wronged, could find no lesse punishment for him, then death. But then the Prince did with sweete perswasions mitigate her furie: but brought it no lower then to publike whipping, submission, and recan∣tation: Lastlie, humbly on his knees to aske pardon of the Romanian K••ight.

All now satisfied but Vrania, (who could not easilie forgiue an in∣iure done to her other selfe) sent him a shore to the next land they saw,

Then did the knight againe speake: My Lord Parselius, with your leaue, I be∣seech you permit me to take so much boldnes, as to beseech my Lord Lean∣drus to doe me so much honour, as to tell mee the aduenture, which caused the report and suspition of his death: they both agreeing, Leandrus thus be∣gan. After I had left you most noble Parselius, I went to my owne countrie to visite my father, where still I heard the noise of Antissia's losse, the likeli∣hood of her beauty, the griefe of Parents, and the wrong done to my selfe: these did not only inuite, but command me to be diligent, in making al these pieces ioyne again in the first body of cōtent; which I perswaded my self able to doe, by seeking and finding of her. The one I resolu'd, the other I nothing doubted: then with my fathers consent I left Achaya, taking my way among the Greek Ilands, and passing the Archipelago. I left no Iland that had a league of land vnsought, or vnseene: then shipt I my self, and past into your Morea; so after I had seene all those places, I went againe to ••ea, resoluing afterwards to take towards Italy, whither for farnesse it might bee the traytors had carried her; my companion then leauing me to go to his heart, which he had left in Cecillia. But being in the Iland of Cephalonia, there was a solemne and magnificent Feast held, which was by reason of a marriage betweene the Lords daughter of that Iland, and the Lord of Zante's sonne, a fine and sprite∣full youth; Iusts, Tilt, and all other such warlike exercises being proclaimed. Hearing this, I would needs shew my selfe one, as forward as any stranger to honour the Feast. The first day (which was the wedding-day) Armes were laid aside, and only dancing and feasting exercis'd: after supper euery one preparing for the dancing againe. With the sound of trumpets there entred one in habit and fashion like a Commander of horse, who deliuer'd some few lines to the new married Paire, dedicated as to their honour and ioy, which they receiu'd most thankfully, promising freedome and welcome to the whole company. Then entred in twenty Gentlemen presenting souldiers, and so danced in their kind, making a braue and commendable demonstrati∣on of Courtship in the brauest profession, honour abounding most, where noblenes in valour, and bounty in ciuilitie agree together. After they went to a rich banket: the braue Masquers discouering themselues, were found to be gentlemen of both Ilands, equally diuided in number, as their affections ought to be to either, and therefore had put themselues into the euenest and perfectest number often, and ten. But to leaue sport, and come to earnest; the manner of that place was, that from the banquet the Bride must be stolne away (to bed the meaning is), but she tooke to the fields. Most did misse her, for there wanted no respectiue care of her, but al were satisfied with the fashi∣on, correcting such as spake suspiciously, and expecting to be call'd to see her in bed, waited the calling. But the time being long, some hastier then the rest went to the chamber, where they found she had not been. This was instant∣ly blowne abroad; all betooke themselues to Armes who could beare any, the Ladies to their teares, euery one amaz'd, and chiefly the Bridegroome perplext. The old fathers vext, the mothers tore their gray locks, such dis∣order in generall, as cannot bee exprest, but by the picture of thesame acci∣dent, Some mistrusted the Masquers, but soone they clear'd themselues, putting on Armes, and being as earnest as any in the search. I a stranger, and louing businesse, would needs accompany them (which the fauour of a

Nobleman, with whom I had got some little acquaintance, did well aide me in) whose fortunes were in finding them, more happy then any others, ouer∣taking them, when they thought themselues most secure, being together laid within a delicate Vineyard, a place able to hide them, and please them with as much content, as Paris felt, when hee had deceiu'd the Greeke King of his beautifull Hellen; laughing at the fine deceit, and pitying in a scornefull fashi∣on those, who with direct paine and meaning followed them, commending their subtilties and fine craftinesse, in hauing so deceiu'd them. Kissing and embracing, they ioyfully remain'd in their stolne comforts, till wee rudely breaking in vpon them, made them as fearefully rush vp, as a tapist Buck will doe, when he finds his enemies so neere: yet did not our comming any whit amaze them, but that they were well able to make vse of the best sence at that time required for their good, which was speech, vttering it in this man∣ner.

My Lords (said they), if euer you haue knowne loue, that will (we hope) now with-hold you from crossing louers. We confesse, to the law wee are offenders, yet not to the law of loue: wherefore as you haue lou'd, or doe, or may, pity vs, and be not the meanes that wee too soone sacrifice our blouds on the cruell altar of reuenge, while we remaine the faithfull vassals of Ve∣nus. Let not your hands be soild in the bloud of louers; what can wash away so foule a staine? You may bring vs (it is true) vnto our iust deserued endes: but then take heed of a repentant gnawing spirit, which will molest you, when you shall be vrg'd to remember, that you caus'd so much faithfull and constant loue, to be offred to the triumph of your conquest, ouer a louer vn∣arm'd, wanting all meanes of resistance, but pure affections to defend himself withall, and a woman only strong in truth of loue. For my part, she wan me, my companion was by him gaind; so as promising assistance in place of arms, and helpe in stead of force, we sat down together, he beginning his discourse in this manner.

To make long speeches, striuing to be held an Orator, or with much de∣licacie to paint this storie, the time affoords not the one, our truth and loue requires not the other; wherfore as plainely as truth it self demands, I wil tel you the beginning, successe, and continuance of our fortunate (though crost) affections. I lou'd this Lady before she had seene this yong Lord, she likewise had onely seene my loue, and onely tide her selfe to that, before he saw her; loue made me her slaue, while she suffered as by the like authoritie. I sued, she granted; I lou'd, she requited; happinesse aboue all blessings to bee im∣braced. Our eyes kept iust measure of lookes, being sometimes so inchain'd in delightfull links of each others ioy-tying chaine (for so wee made vp the number of our beholdings), as hard it was to be so vnkindly found, as to sepe∣rate so deare a pleasure. Our hearts held euen proportion with our thoughts and eies, which were created, nursed, and guided by those, or rather one harts power. But Parents hauing (were it not for Christianity, I shuld say) a cruel & tirannical power ouer their childrē, brought this to vs disastrous fortune: for discouering our loues, set such spies ouer vs (scorning that I being the yonger brother to an Earle, should haue such happinesse, as to inioy my Princesse) as we could neuer come to enioy more then bare lookes, which yet spake our true meanings after it was discouer'd. This course inrag'd vs, vowing to haue

our desires vpon any termes whatsoeuer, alwaies consider'd with true no∣blenesse, and vertue. Thus resolu'd, We continued, till her Father con∣cluding this match, shut her vp in a Towre, wherein he then kept (in her) his choisest Treasure, till this day of her Marriage: which opportunity we tooke, purposing; More he would haue said, as it seemd, truely to ma∣nifest the vertuous determination they had, in their accomplishment of their desires, when he was hinder'd by the rushing in of others with their Horses. Rising, We discern'd the deceiu'd youth with some others in his company; Fate, like his Loue, hauing guided him to that place. In charity wee could not leaue our first professed Friends, nor could I part my selfe from such and so true Loue: wherefore resolutely taking my companions part, defended the Louers, pitty then taking the place of Iustice in our Swords; the Hus∣band being vnfortunately slaine by my Companion, truly I was sorry for him, and glad it was not I had done it. But soone followed a greater and more lamentable misfortune: For one of the yong Lords Seruants, seeing his Master slaine, pressed in, vnregarded, or doubted, vpon the vnarmed Lo∣uer, who was this while comforting his Mistris, and not expecting danger, was on the sudden thrust into the backe, as he was holding his onely com∣fort in his armes. He soone (alas, and so foreuer) left his deare imbrace∣ment, turning on him who hurt him, repaying the wrong with giuing him his death: but then soone followed his owne, the wound being mortall which he had receiued, yet not so suddenly, but that he saw the destruction of his enemies. We being as fierce, as rage, and reuenge could make vs, then he remaining alone (besides my selfe) aliue, and yet dying, giuing me in∣finite thankes for my loue, and willing rescue lent him, with many dolefull and (in affection) lamentable groanes and complaints, he tooke his leaue of his onely and best beloued, then of me; to whom he committed the care of her, and his body, then kissing her departed. But what shall I say of her? imagine, great Prince, and all this braue company, what she did; You will say, she wept, tore her haire, rent her clothes, cri'd, sobd, groand; No, she did not thus, she onely imbraced him, kissed him, and with as deadly a palenesse, as death could with most cunning counterfeit, and not execute, She entreated me to conduct her to the next Religious house, where shee would remaine till she might follow him. I admird her patience, but since more wonder'd at her worth. O women, how excellent are you, when you take the right way? else, I must confesse, you are the children of men, and like them fault-full. The body we tooke with the helpe of a Litter which passed by (hauing before conuayd a hurt Knight to the same Monastery next to that place) and in that we conuayd it thither, where we buried him, and almost drownd him in our teares. Thinking then to haue remou'd, she fell ill, not sicke in body, but dead in heart, which appear'd; for within two dayes she dyed, leauing this world, to meet, and once more ioy in him, who more then a world, or ten thousand worlds she loued, and still desi∣red; which made her choose death being her then greater ioy, burying them together a little without the house (the order of that place not per∣mitting them to be layd within it.) After this sad (but honest) performance of my word, I went on in my Iourney, meeting within few dayes after, a Page belonging to my dead friend, who with his Masters Armour followed

him, loue and obedience bringing it into his mind. The armor was good, be∣ing that which I now weare, mine owne hackt and cut in many places. With much sorrow the youth receiu'd the wofull tidings of his Master, then obtai∣ned I so much, as to haue those armes, which with violēt sorrow he consen∣ted to, helping me to arme my selfe in them, though so, as had I been any but his dead Lords friend, he sooner and more willingly would haue wound in∣to his funerall shirt. He tooke my armour, and laid it together vnder a tree which grew in the mid'st of a faire and pleasant plaine: then (although a∣gainst my will) he kist my hands, and with as much true-felt sorrow as could lodge in so young yeares, tooke his leaue of me; only beseeching me, when I remembred my vnfortunate friends, I would also with some pity thinke on his misery: this was my aduenture. And then past I by sea, till on a rock I suf∣fered shipwrack, being taken vp by this famous Pirat whom you so valiantly haue slaine, being I assure you, none of your least victories, he hauing had as much strength and skill, as in any one man need remaine: but knowing me, and some power I haue with the king of Cecile, my deere and worthy friend P••rissus his Vncle, whose excellent company I gain'd in Achaya, he then be∣ing there, and with whom I trauelled many moneths, almost yeares, till I be∣gan this search: this man, on condition I would mediate for him to the King, or his Nephew, let me goe at libertie, and arm'd in his ship, till such time as we fortun••d to land; alwaies concluded, that while I was with him, I should defend him with my best meanes. This made me resist you till heauen told me my error, which I repent, and heartily aske pardon for: and this sure was the reason that my Page imagined my death, if hee found (as by all likeli∣hood he did) my armes.

Then did Parselius againe imbrace Leandrus: turning to the Squire of Am∣philantus he demanded what he knew of his Master. Truly (replide he) no∣thing but the ioy I conceiue to heare by this gentle Knight that he is liuing: I parted from him in a great storme, hauing been in Germany sent thither with an army from the Pope to assist the Emperour against the Duke of Saxony, who was slaine by his hand, and for this act was by the Emperour and the o∣ther Princes made King of the Romans, hauing protected the Empire against such an enemy; since till now neuer hauing heard newes of him: but he ment to seeke still for you, and therefore left Germany, and in the Mediterran sea, my selfe, ship, and all my Lords treasure was taken by this Pirat, whom your valour hath destroyed. Thus with prosperous wind and infinite ioy for Am∣philanthus his new title and hon••ur, they sailed towards Italy, hoping to land not farre from the Towne where the king of Naples at that time kept his Court, which was at that great Citie: but being within the sight of the shore because it then was euening they resolu'd not to land till the next morning, and so take the day before them. This thought the best (like mens counsells) proou'd the worst; for in the night rose a terrible and fearefull storme, being so violent, as it tooke not away rest only, but knowledge from the Pilot, be∣ing onely able within some howers to assure them, that they were far distant from Italy. The tempest continued in as great (i•• not greater) furie, nor any more comfort had they, saue that now they enioyed light, and yet could that light scarce be counted day, being but as day-breake before the Sun-rising; so as it was but as to distinguish the time of day from night, or as if it were to

hold a candle to them, the more to see their danger, so thicke, cloudy, and vn∣comfortable, as they could discerne nothing, but what was nearest them, which was perill. Cunning now preuail'd not, for the most skilfull confessed, that now he was artlesse, heauenly powers working aboue the knowledge of earthly creatures, which way they were by force carried, was vtterly vn∣known to them; sailes, tackling were gone; the mast, either by force, or hope of safety cast ouer-board; thunder, lightning, wind, raine, they wanted not; none being able to expresse the desperatenes of this storme, but by saying, it was the picture of the last day for violence, but like the world for strangenes and vncertainty. Thus they continued in the day (hauing only the shadow of a day) and in the night feareful flames, which yet they thankt, because by thē they could discerne themselues. When heauen did think this storme had last∣ed long enough crosse to those, though cros••, yet still most louing louers, it commanded the seas to be at quiet, which being perform'd, the Pilot againe began to vse his skil, which first had meanes to let him know, that so farre they were from the place resolu'd on, as in stead of the coast of Italy, they were within sight of the Iland of Ciprus: this not onely amazed them, but much troubled them, considering the barbarousnes of the people who there inhabi∣ted, and their extremity such, as of necessity they must land to replenish their wants, caused by the rigor of the tempest: yet were they come to such a part of the country, as there was no harbor or port to ride or land at; wherfore they were forst to coast the country; night again like an euil spirit possessing them, almost all tired and weary with the length and violence of the storme. Some were laid down to see if rest would possesse them: others falne asleep, none enduring it like the excellent Vrania, which brought comfort (though in sorrow) to the louing and noble Parselius, neuer shewing feare or trouble: incouraging all. And yet she did feare, but seeing his, she dissembled hers, in care of not further harming him, She, I say, when all were gone to rest, stood as Sentinel, but by her owne appointment, loue cōmanding her soule to take no aduantage of restfull houres; which she obediently did, sleep neuer but by loues liberty possessing her eies: which freedome her passion had not yet al∣lowed her, but molesting her patient sweetnes caused her to walke vp and downe in the maze of her trouble. The Moone (though coldly) smiling on her, and her loue•• she perceiued a great fire, whereupon she called the compa∣ny, demanding what their opinions were of it; they could not giue her a di∣rect answer, till being come somewhat neerer, they pereeiued it was a Ship was falne a fire in the midst of the Sea, and right against it a very good Har∣bour. Pitty, and noble compassion straight moued in them, so as they haled to the burning Barke, to know if there were any by ill fortune in her, and if so, to succour them, but hearing no answer, they concluded shee was empty: wherfore passing on they landed in the Island, which no sooner was done, but their former wonder was encreased, by the sudden falling a fire of their own Ship, which had but deliuerd her self of thē, and then as a Martyr suffer'd for the paine they had in her endur'd. But this past, admiration brought new sor∣row to them, considering they were in a strange Country, among barbarous people, depriu'd of all hope to get thence any more, but there to continue at the mercy of vnchristened creatures. Parselius wished, but stil found himselfe further from succour of any but his fruitles wishes: all his tormenting griefe

being for Vrania. Vrania did as he did, iustly requiting his paine, for all hers was for him. All lamented and pittied Vrania, and the dainty Selarina, who mildly, yet with a more Woman like manner ••uffered these afflictions, lo∣uing and pittying Vrania, being an obligation they were all in their hearts, as they found, bound vnto. Leandrus sorrowed for her, and bewail'd the two young Princes, whose Father had lost his Kingdome, for his loue to his Father, which stirred in him a commiserate passion. Thus, all for others grieued, pittie extended so, as all were carefull, but of themselues most care∣lesse: yet their mutuall care, made them all cared for. Parselius with a braue courage, at last aduised them to go•• on, yet left it to their owne mindes, fearing to perswade, least harme might after follow, grieue, feare, perswade they did and all distractedly, so much they feared, and most was for Vrania: so much can worth, sweetnesse, and Beautie worke in noble mindes. His aduise was to goe on, and this was allowed, for what could hee propound that Vrania liked not of? And if she consented, what spirit could deny? Thus, on they went (but as in a Labyrinth without a thrid) till they came within sight of a rare and admirable Pallace.

It was scituated on a Hill, but that Hill formed, as if the world would needs raise one place of purpose to build Loues throne vpon; all the Coun∣try besides humbly plaine, to shew the subiection to that powerfull dwel∣ling. The Hill whereon this Pallace stood was iust as big as to hold the House: three sides of the Hill made into delicate Ga••dens and Orchards: the further side was a fine and stately Wood. This sumptuous House was square, set all vpon Pillars of blacke Marble, the ground paued with the same. Euery one of those pillars, presenting the liuely Image (as perfectly as caruing could demonstrat, of braue, and mighty men, and sweet and de∣licate Ladies, such as had been conquer'd by loues power: but placed there, as still to mainetaine, and vphold the honour, and House of Loue. Com∣ming towards it, they imagined it some Magicall work, for so daintily it ap∣pear'd in curiositie, as it seem'd as if it hung in the ayre, the Trees, Fountains, and all sweet delicacies being discerned through it. The vpper Story had the Gods most fairely and richly appearing in their thrones: their propor∣tions such as their powers, and quallities are described. As Mars in Armes, weapons of Warre about him, Trophies of his Victories, and many demon∣strations of his Warre-like God-head. Apollo with Musicke, Mercurie, Saturne, and the rest in their kind. At the foote of this Hill ranne a pleasant and sweetly passing riuer, ouer which was a Bridge, on which were three Towres: Vpon the first was the Image of Cupid, curiously caru'd wi••h his Bow bent, and Quiuer at his backe, but with his right hand pointing to the next Towre; on which was a statue of white Marble, representing Venus, but so richly adorn••d, as it might for rarenesse, and exquisiten••sse haue beene taken for the Goddesse her selfe, and haue causd as strange an affection as the Image did to her maker, when he fell in loue with his owne worke. Shee was crownd with Mirtle, and Pansies, in her left hand holding a flaming Heart, her right, directing to the third Towre, before which, in all dainty ••iches, and rich delicacy, was the figure of Constancy, holding in her hand the Keyes of the Pallace: which shewed, that place was not to be open to all, but to few possessed with that vertue.

They all beheld this place with great wonder, Parselius resoluing it was some Enchauntment; wherefore was the nicer how they proceeded in the entring of it: while they were thus in question, there came an aged Man, with so good a countenance and graue aspect, as it strucke reuerence into them, to be shewed to him, by them. He saluted them thus: Faire company, your beholding this place with so much curiosity, and besides your habits makes me know you are strangers, therefore fit to let you vnderstand the truth of this braue Building, which is dedicated to Loue. Venus (whose Priest I am) thinking her self in these latter times, not so much, or much lesse honour'd then in ages past, hath built this, calling it the throne of Loue. Here is She dayly seru'd, by my selfe, and others of my profession, and heere is the triall of false or faithfull Louers.

Those that are false, may enter this Towre, which is Cupids Towre, or the Towre of Desire: but therein once inclosed, they endure torments fit for such a fault. Into the second any Louer may enter, which is the Towre of Loue: but there they suffer vnexpressable tortures, in seuerall kindes as their affections are most incident to; as Ielo••sie, Despaire, Feare, Hope, Longings, and such like. The third which is guarded by Constancy, can bee entred by none, till the valiantest Knight, with the loyallest L••dy come together, and open that gate, when all these Charmes shal haue conclu∣sion. Till then, all that venture into these Towres, remaine prisoners; this is the truth. Now if your hearts will serue you aduenture it.

They thanked the old man for his relation, but told him they had some Vowes to performe first: which ended, they would aduenture for impri∣sonment in so rare a prison. The old Priest left them, and they weary, laid them downe neere the Towre of Desire, refreshing themselues with some little meate, which Vranias mayde had in her Scrip: but wanting drinke, they all went to the Riuer, whereof they had but drunke, when in them se∣uerall Passions did instantly abound.

Parselius forgot all, but his promise to the dead King of Albania, for the setling his Sonnes in that Kingdome. Leandrus afflicted with the losse of An∣tissia, must straight into Morea to finde her, and take her from Amphilanthus; Steriamus and Selarinus would not be refused the honour of Knight-hood, Mars hauing so possessed them with his warlike disposition, as worlds to their imaginations were too little to conquer, therefore Albania was already wonne. Vrania, whose heart before was onely fed by the sweet lookes, and pleasing conuersation of Parselius, loues him now so much, as she imagines, she must try the aduenture, to let him see her loyalty is such, as for his loue, and by it she would end the Inchantment. Selarina, thought she saw within the Gardens, a young Prince with a Crowne vpon his head, who beckned to her, wherefore she would goe at such a call. Vrania's maide beheld as she beleeu'd Allimarlus in the second Towre, kissing and embracing a Black∣moore: which so farre inraged her, being passionatly in loue with him, as she must goe to reuenge her selfe of that iniurie. These distractions carried them all, as their passions guided them. Parselius hauing knighted the two Princes, tooke their way to the next Port: Vrania now not seene or thought on. Leandrus hasting another way, to finde meanes for his Iourney. Selarina to the Towre, and knockt with that feruent desire to accomplish her ende as

the gate opened; all the three rush'd in, ••triuing who should be first. But Se∣larina was then soone made to know shee should not contend with Vrania, wherefore she was lockt into the first tower, burning with desire to come to that sweete Prince, which still she sees before her: hee calling, shee with vncessant desire striuing to goe to him. Vrania went on, when entring the second tower, guarded by Venus, she was therein inclosed, when as thus much sense came to her, as to know she had left Parselius, which strak her into a mourning passion, confessing that, an vnpardonable fault, and what he in iu∣stice ••ould not excuse. Then despaire possest her so, as there she remaind, lo∣uing in despaire, and despairing mourn'd. The shepherdesse her seruant con∣tinuing her first passion got into that Tower too, where she stil saw her afflic∣tion, striuing with as much spitefull iealousie, as that fury could vex her with∣all, to come at the Moore to pull her from her knight. Thus were the women for their punishment, left prisoners in the throne of Loue•• which Throne and punishments are daily built in all humane hearts. But how did the honest Al∣limarlus carry himselfe in all these changes? Alas, with much griefe ••nd sor∣row for this misfortune, he not hauing drank, being the on••ly sensible man left; wherefore fearing more the harme of Parselius and his companions then the Ladies, who were (without question) safe, though farre from being ••ree, he followed them, lest harme might from those furious humors grow. They made such haste, as no rest could inuite their stay, till they were tired with their owne minds trauell, and then all three lying downe in one anothers armes, they yeelded vnto sleepe. In which, new torments vexed them: for then did they come a little to themselues (or a little more from themselues in another kind) and as men long held in a trance, awaked. Parselius wee∣ping for Vrania's vnkindnesse, who had (as hee dreamed) forsaken him, and left him sleeping, while shee went with another. The two Princes be∣wailing the death of their Sister, who they imagined taken violently from them, and sacrificed to Venus.

Thus they againe fall into strange and new distractions, which grieu'd the young Knights verie soule to see, but hauing no hope of seeing them restored, while they continued in that Iland: soothing them vp in their owne opinions, knowing it dangerous and idle to crosse mad men, with gen∣tle peswasions gain'd Parselius to goe with him, when hee promis'd to bring him where Vrania with her new friend did abide, and then he might recouer her, and kill his enemie. The other hee likewise gaind, promising they should haue the meanes to kill their aduersaries likewise.

Thus he got them thence: trauelling in this sort, till they came to the sea side where they found a small Barke, and in her two persons, an old man, and a little Boy being Fishers•••• and hauing taken some, had then newly put a sho••e to dresse, and so to satisfie their hungers with their gaine. The Romanian Knight saluted the old man, intreating, that that companie might goe into his boate, and time it was to preuent the com∣ming harme, for then were they ready to r••nne into the sea; but by force they got them into the Barke, where no sooner they were, hauing freed themselues from the land (which was the nature of those charmes), but their good spirits againe possess'd them. Then did Parselius bewaile Vrania, crie out of his miserable fortune in hauing lost her, beseech euery one to pitie with him so great a mischiefe. The knight wept to see these

changes, but then mildly told him all that had happened. Grieu'd Parse∣lius did remaine; but considering heauenly powers had caused this, he the more quietly endur'd it, yet not without a bleeding hart, and often showring eies: O Vrania (would hee cry), how iustly maist thou hate me, for leauing thee? Damn'd country, can it be that thou wert ordain'd for loue to haue a Throne in, and yet to be the hel of louers? Much more he cri'd, and sorrow∣ed out, while the old man had gain'd the knowledge of this aduenture from Allimarl••s, who was by him knowne, so as beseeching Parselius to lay by his mourning, or at least to giue eare to this story, said hee, which will encrease compassion, and passion in you; with that the graue old man began thus. La∣mentation (braue Princes) is that which I must treat of; but first I must tell you, as one of the parts of this story; I am called Seleucius, brother I am to the king of Romania, Lord to this young knight: and thus from me (the most vn∣fortunate of Princes) heare the wofull'st and most disastrous history, that euer Princely eares gaue attention to. I was brother, and somtime heire to this vn∣happy king, being thought lost: but after found in such an aduenture of en∣chantment as this seemes to be. Return'd, married, and was blest with two children, of whom I am sure this Gentleman hath already discoursed vnto you, wherefore that part I wil leaue, and come to the last. My Nephew Anti∣ssius being come from the fruitles search of his sister Antissia, my brother would needs marry him to a Lady in the country, which he (although neuer hauing bin in loue) might haue questioned; yet he euer loued to obay his fa∣ther, and so they were married. O Antissius, worthy Antissius: with that the teares ran downe his long white beard, resembling drops in snow, stopping his breat••, that scarce the last word could bee heard. In this time did all the Princes ioyne, concluding it with sobs, and groanes, euery one hauing equall feeling of sorrow, though for seueral things. At last he cry'd out these words: Pardon great Prince this sad interruption in my story, which I am forst to do, heart-rending sorrow making me euer doe so, when I think of (much more name) my deerest Nephew, and his vnfortunate losse; being such a wound to that country, as none can imagine but our selues, who daily feele the misery. He being married by his fathers commād, who longed to see some fruit from so wor••hy a stock, his obedience hauing mastred his affection, which rather was to follow Armes, then fall into the armes of Loue: he worthily lou'd his wife, and louingly liu'd with her; within that yeare being blest with a Son, whom after his father they called Antissius: with this ioy'd-at birth began the ruin of all (yet not because of his birth, for in him we haue yet our last hope) but by reason that the Grandmother liu'd but to kisse her babe; after whose death the king again maried, and her, whose wickednes I am sure hath come vnto your eares. This malitious creature, after ••he had caused Antissius to bee banisht and most honest men to lose their liues, or places, she yet not satisfi∣ed with such sins, as neuer the earth sufferd in one body the waight of more; treason, adultery, witchcraft and murder, were plentifully in her, yet while he liu'd she was not contented. Wherefore to bring this to passe, was now her only study. In this time some one or two honest hearts were left, who gaue the king warning of her, ventring their heads to saue his body from harme; her immoderate desires so much knowne, as they cried out against her; shee being a Queene salued not, nor couered her sin, which in her greatnes appea∣red the greater fault; a spot being more markt in a Diamond, then in an ordi∣nary

piece of glasse. Long time it was ere his honest and vnspotted loue would belieue it, or hearken to it, while shee delighted her selfe in her owne shame, and his dishonor. At last (••hough extreame loath) he seem'd to see it, slaking his violent loue to her, & oft refraining her bed, made her discerne it, though delighting her self so much with others, had somewhat blinded her from see∣ing, what but for policy, she cared little for. But then did shee neuer leaue the poore man with her flatterings and disfembling falshoods, till she had gaind the cause and ground of his most iust offence, and deserued mistrust, and vn∣usuall strangenes, which at last (vndone by her bewitching fawnings) she gai∣ned. Then had she enough, vowing to be reuengd on al, and vnder this colour to execute her malice, and purge her spleene vpon the famous Prince his son; which by her cruell practises, she at last vnfortunately brought to passe. For first (by meanes as she pretended that she was slandred) she got her good ho∣nest husband to banish any, who had in the least, spoken of her lightnes; put∣ting into that number those whom she hated, hauing suffred (as she alleagd) as much by their slanderous reports, as almost if it had been a truth shee had merited, wishing she had still continued widow, rather then to come to this height of honour; and hauing it, to fall so low as into the shame of dishonor: beseeching him throughly to reuenge her, or to permit her to retire to the most lonely and priuate life•• rather then there openly to sinke vnder shame and infamie: or if she could be found faulty, then to cut off her head, farre vn∣fit to liue wife to so vertuous and good a king. To satisfie her, whose dissem∣blings were of force to bring new heate into his aged heart, which like old wood will presently kindle, he strooke off the heads of those loyall seruants, who had honestly (though vndiscreetly) told him of her sinne, men, not lo∣uing that discourse of any. This done, he came to receiue thanks: but she tel∣ling him this was nothing, and vnlesse hee would doe more to right her, so shamefully wrongd, she would go away, and execute some mischiefe on her selfe; her spirit and conscience not being able to sustaine themselues induring such abuse: and then (if euer he lou'd her) he would be sorry, he had wrongd so true and faithfully louing a wife, while he did credit pickthanking Coun∣sellors. He seeing this passion in his deere wife, vowed reuengefull iustice on all she could accuse. Vpon this vow, and some other assurance which was giuen by execution, her holy Maiesty seem'd somewhat satisfied, and then conten••ed (as it were) to liue, hauing new life giuen in her iustice, and faith-trying honour. She came abroad, but oft-times blushing; modesty was the colour put vpon it, when indeed it was affection to a young Lord in the Court: who after shee found she could not win with all inticements and loue-showes, shee accused him for seeking her, and so with many more lost his head. Now was Antissius and his vertuous wife confind to a Ca∣stle, some twenty miles from the Court, he being accused of popularity, and aspiring to the Crowne. This was the power of that insatiable Monster, as shee could, and would banish from him his best, and onely true com∣forts. My Nephewes misfortune increasing, and his hate to liue, grow∣ing euery day stronger in him, he gaind for all this the Queenes leaue to goe, and liue with me. She willing to it, hoping his former ill vsage would pro∣uoke him to that hee might die for, else shee would finde a meanes to com∣passe it. But few plots needed, this being the beginning, and his soone

following ouerthrow; for the people finding her gouernment absolute, and that being bent to the ruin of the land, followed the vertuous Prince in great numbers, and at al times, which he as much as in him lay, did put off & auoid: yet not so, but that the Queene wrought cunningly enough vpon it, to mixe iealousie with the fathers loue to his sonne, shee neuer ceasing to wish the subiects loue as great and firme to his Maiestie, as shee, and all others saw their hearts were placed vpon his worthy sonne, which though he for his af∣fection to him, did not yet make vse of, yet it is a fine thing, said she, to bee a king, and a terrible matter to be tempted: were you not safely blessed with so honest a son. And therefore you must trust more to the loyaltie of Antissius, then the faith of his people, who, he might perceiue, regarded nothing lesse then their due respect to him. Sparingly she spake well of him, but freely to make suspition. Thus now was he falne into the path, which led to the court of her malice: for buzing these things in his old, and fearefull eares, shee at last brought to this fulnesse of ill. One day as she had appointed (being pri∣uately with the King in a Gallery) two of the Counsell came in, in hast, yet a dissembling feare in their faces, counterfei••ing need, but doubt and vnwil∣lingnesse to discouer what mou'd in them this sudden approch. The King vrg'd them, when with teares they told him, that they had gaind knowledge of a dangerous conspiracy, which was plotted, & to be instantly executed vp∣on the persons of his Maiesty, and his most royal Queen, by Antissius and my self, the treason being this: to depose him, kil the Queen, banish the Counsell I make himselfe Monarch of Romania, dispose the offices, already disposed of, among his fauourites, and the whole realme, as he best liked to his followers, and associats, and in this kind make a conquest of it. Then alas sir (said they), what will become of poore Romania, when your vertue and wisdome shall be put by, their gouernment, and his greene capacity, and those young wild hea∣ded Counsellors shall rule ouer vs, who were fitter at schoole to learne obe∣dience and loyalty, then to sway a Scepter, besides the wrong and sin, of tak∣ing the lawfull Prince from among his people. This related and seconded by the Queen, who stil in a double maner clear'd, & condemn'd poore Antissius, whose iust and vertuous heart neuer thought of such a treason, nor of her (if not with sorrow for her wickednes). It wrought so far in the iealous brest of the old man, as he manifested his crediting it, and with all the feare hee con∣ceiu'd of it, expressing as much hate to his son, as such a wicked practise might iustly challenge. Then hastily (as feare is alwaies sudden) he demaunded ad∣uice, with the best and readiest way to auoide the danger. They yet hauing gone but halfe way of their diuelish progresse, replied: That since it pleased him to haue such confidence in them, as to aske their aduice in so great a busines, they would as honestly discharge themselues, and this they held the safest, and the best course; which was, that the Prince (who they must still loue and reuerence, and whose fault cut their hearts to thinke of) should be sent for, but in such manner, as he should haue no cause to distrust, lest then he went about to gaine by force, what they before had been inform'd, he hoped to compasse by a priuate conspiracie. This aduice, and the plot it selfe, he im∣parted to some more of the Counsell, who already were sufficiently instruc∣ted in their parts, and so accordingly agreed; consenting, nay commen∣ding the graue, carefull, and honest aduice of the other two. Then was a

Messenger straight dispatched to the Prince, (who like a braue, but innocent Hart came into the toile) with order to come himselfe, his wife, and So••ne vnto the King, whose age, and weaknesse being great, and his affection on∣ly left strong in him, towards him, and his, would haue them neerer to him, and for that he would recompēce him, for the iniuries in former times done to him: I was not at home, for had I bin, the iourney surely had bin hindred, while Antissius doubting no treason, his noble heart being free from thinking any, in haste (hoping that way to expresse the ioy hee felt by these vnexpec∣ted glad tidings) posted to the Court, leauing word, that I (who was to re∣turne in a very short time after) should with all conuenient speed accompa∣ny his wife, and sonne to the King. Few daies he had rid, before he was en∣countred with a troope of horse, vnder the commaund of an ancient friend of his, and a friend indeed he was in this action, being betrayd as well as he, sent vnder colour of loue to the Prince, who since hee had (or at least it being thought hee had) so much dislik'd his father, as hee had forbid him his once heeld-deerest sight, and that the people had taken notice of it in a dangerous kind: to preuent any bold or hazardus attempt might happen by a rude mul∣titude, the Queene had sent this troupe to guard him, and that she knowing the loue this Gentleman bare Antissius, had made choice of him to conduct his person thither. Antissius was somewhat troubled with this accident, won∣dring why she should be on the sudden so kind, knowing th••t there was none whose ruin she and her godly crew more shot at: yet could not he (who saw only with the eies of vertue) pierce into this plot. Mildly and gratiously hee saluted the Captaine and his men, yet telling them, his innocency had been guard enough for his person.

They went on, but when they were within ••ight of the great Citie of Constantinople (the Court then being there) they perceiued a farre greater number of Souldiers, with which sight hee saw his end, and soone heard he sentence of his death: for then did they set vpon him, crying, Downe with that Traytor, that disobedient child, the incurable griefe of his lo∣uing father, the dishonour of our Countrie, and the Canker of the States quiet. With these cries they rushed violently vpon the Prince. The first troope seeing this Treason, did their best to defend Antissius; but their liues could not buy his safetie, in vaine striuing to alter destiny: the period of his dayes being come with a blow giuen him by a trayterous villaine, which strake his head in two. Griefe of this accident turn'd to fury, his party ••ighting as if Antisius had beene in euery one, and so to bee defen∣ded; but that was past, their loues onely liuing to him. Yet dyed it too, for none were left of the whole Troope, but the Captaine, and some tenne more. The Queenes men hauing gain'd almost what they sought, fully to giue her satisfaction in his death; yet wanted part, since they could not get his bodie, to be made a present to her cruelty. For the Captaine perceiuing their drift, hinder'd them of it, taking him vp when he saw the vnluky blow giuen, and in the heate of the ••••ight fled away with it, knowing this a bet∣ter piece of seruice, then to haue lost his life in reuenge at that time: since to better purpose he might saue it in seruing his Sonne, to haue a iust, and fit requitall for such a wickednesse, on those shamefull murderers. They came with this body (of the most beloued Prince, while he liued, and the

most pittied and honourd after death) to my house. Iust as I return'd, did I encounter this sad and disastrous aduenture; In stead of a braue, coura∣gious, and (with it) pleasing presence, I met his bloudlesse, pale, and mar∣tyrd body. There I saw the hope of our Country, and comfort of mine age, chang'd againe into our first being: So much it afflicted mee, as I stood amazed with griefe, speechlesse, and senselesse of sense, but sorrow: till sorrow being pleasd to make me haue more feeling of her power, gaue me leaue to let these words come from me. O Antissius, hath life beene lent me to see this day! Miserable man, miserable Countrey, wretched age, wherein such cruelty doth raigne; O Antissius! but then by their honest good perswasions (telling me the necessity, and ensuing dangers, if not pre∣uented, that the rest liuing might fall into) I stroue to endure this calamity with as much patience, as so miserable a man could let sinke into him, and in∣deed for this young youthes sake, who is the young Antissius, heire to these miseries, and the ouerthrowne estate of Romania. But then followed a se∣cond cause of griefe; For his vertuous wife came to vs, who hearing such lowd cries, and distracted noyses, left her Chamber, following the cries till they brought her to that most lamentable spectacle. When she saw the cause of their wailing, she put them aside, going to the body, and kneeling downe by it, vsed these words; My deare, was it for this, that vnnaturall Father, and monster of women, sent for thee? That no sooner thou shouldest see thy Fa∣thers house, but with it thou must see thy house of death? Alas, wert thou too good, too hopefull, too full of all vertues to liue among vs, who can now but assist thee with our teares? But long shall not this worldly sorrow triumph ouer me in thy losse, for I must, and will be with thee; with that kissing the pale lips of her dearest loue, and as it were breathing her (though not last, but fortelling) last breath into him, she rose, and rising, a little seemed to smile, ioy within her (for assured going to him) hauing caused that Countenauce; which by some was disliked, not being, to their weake apprehensions, sad e∣nough, for such a cause of woe. As soone as she had left the body, she came to me, earnestly entreating me, that I would suffer none to trouble her, shee hauing some priuate deuotions to performe, which being ended, I should be welcome to her. For my part, I so little mistrusted her intent, or imagi∣ned a Woman had so strong a spirit, as to dye when shee would, granted what she asked, being confident, her goodnesse would keepe her from do∣ing any violence on her selfe. Hauing left me, she went to the roome where her young Sonne lay, and then fast sleeping, when as weeping ouer him (as the Maides ••ince tolde me) well maist thou sleepe, deare heart, said she, for long, I feare thy quiet will not last; thy being Sonne to so worthy a Father, and vnfortunate a Mother, must cast some stormes on thee, it being fault e∣nough in thee to haue such Parents: at least, thy wicked Grandmother will thinke so, who hating truth will make thee suffer for thy Fathers sake. Sleepe then quietly, my sweet, and lost Antissius, nor now looke vp to see thy woefull Mother, or to take her last farewell: but thus re∣ceiue her blessing, which as the blessing of her owne soule, shee wi∣shes may come, and stay vpon thee, God sending thee a more happie life then thy valiant Father had: let his guifts of vertue, courage, and magnanimity liue in thee, and his misfortunes take their graue in mee;

Alas, Antissius, my onely sweet Babe, I must leaue thee, then againe kissing him, shee said. This is the difference in affection, twixt a Husband and a Childe, otherwise no feare of misfortune ••hould carry me from thee, but my sweetest I must goe, leauing Antissius, to flie to Antissius. And good maids, said she, haue a kind, and iust care of this young Prince, he may liue to re∣quite your paines, and reuenge the wrongs done to his distressed Parents. They vowed all faith and dutifull seruice to him; then againe, as loath it must be the last, she kissed him, and so went to her Chamber: yet at the dore, turning backe, affectionatly, and with watry eyes, cast her last, and kindest fare-well looke on him. When she came into her Chamber, Shee lockt the dore, not suffering any to stay or come to her: where she continued till (I thinking her stay long, besides, hauing businesse with her concerning the dead Prince) I went to her Lodgings, where long I knocked, and indeed, so long as it vexed me: but after feare possessed mee, when I considered what the danger might be, and her freedome, and liberty, such as none had euer receiued that dishonor, of being barr'd her presence. Wherefore I sent for some of my Seruants, who by my command brake open the dore. Entring the roome, We found her laid vpon her bed, newely dead, yet her owne accustomed sweetnesse in her, lying as straight, and vnmou'd, as if death had onely then showne, he could in his panges be milde, yet receiue his gaine: so as well it may be said, he depriu'd her of her life, yet left her owne beauty and grace to triumph ouer his fury. By the bed side stood a Ta∣ble couer'd with a Carpet of Crimson Veluet, and on the board a Letter, which I tooke vp, and seeing it directed to me, I read it, and here (braue Princes) you may see the very same, my dearest Neece left to me, which neuer will I p••rt with, till time giue end vnto my dayes, or life to accomplish her desires. The Letter was this.

SInce it hath pleas••d God for the ouerthrow of this Land, and griefe of all good hearts, (among which you, and I, hold the neerest places in sorrow) to cut this thread of admiration in sunder, and leaue the heauy burden of la∣mentation vpon vs, taking away our ioy, our comfort, our onely Hope An∣tissius, I feele my selfe altogether vnable to sustaine so great, and killing a losse, then let me craue this of you (which the assurance of your loue to your dead Nephew, and dying Neece, imboldeneth me to aske) that you will grant these three things, and see them accomplished: Let the loue you bare to your dead Nephew continue and liue in the same strength to your liuing Nephew. Let nothing hinder you from seeking a deadly reuenge on his Mur∣derers. Lastly, let me be here priuately buried with him. Let these requests be welcome to you my dearest Vncle, and not deny the dying Lucenia.

No Stranger I thinke would haue denied so iust requests, proceeding from a Lady of her worth, and being dying; what then wrought in me, who wanted not loue, or resolution of reuenge? One of her desires I instantly performed, for I buried her with her busband, and then vpon the Tombe, my selfe, the Captaine, and the Seruants to the lost Antissius, tooke a solemne oath to haue reuenge: but by the brauest Princes, whose worths must needs abhorre so detestable practises; other meanes, though they diseru'd

the worst, and basest, honest and noble hearts did detest them. This done, we parted euery one a seuerall way, and to a seuerall King, to make our mi∣sery more manifest; out of Iustice demanding their ayde, to pull downe wickednesse, and againe settle worth in Romania, my selfe remaining one whole yeare after, nere the Hellispont disguised, and almost begging my ly∣uing, with this my last hope. Still they sought vs while wee were among them, but then perceiuing the continuall hazard, and ablenesse in this latter Antissius to trauell; We left Greece, my selfe alone going with him: But how this was difcouer'd, or that this young man must inherite his Fathers misfortunes, we hardly did escape taking. Vpon the missing of vs, Ambassa∣dours were sent in all haste to all the neere Princes, to whom with much falsehood, their false fault was couered with as foule a vaile, working so farre as beliefe, or feare of warre made shew of, so much as preuented the succour we had hoped for. Finding this, we tooke this Boate, coasting (not daring to stay any where) till we could be secure, Many places we haue seene, but found none to rescue misfortune: not caring whither we went, so we were freed from her malicious power. Hither Fate hath brought vs, and here we haue found, and seru'd some Noblemen, and good Princes, who haue pro∣mis'd their helpe: so as, if you (braue Prince) Parselius, and these with you will likewise assist vs, I feare not, but assure my selfe of our hoped-for com∣fort. Thus if pitty dwell in you, you will pitty vs, and this Allimarlus is your Lord, and Prince. Parselius then embraced him, so did Steriamus and Sela∣rinus: all promising (their former vowes, and businesse ended) they would attend and rescue them, in the meane time, they would aduise them to leaue that shore, for feare of danger, considering the Charmes, which yet to any but such as aduentured the Towres, or vnfortunatly dranke of the Riuer were nothing: yet that scarce knowne, made cause of doubt. So they re∣solu'd and betooke themselues to the Sea, when they saw floating vpon the water, a man past sense or power to helpe himselfe, being now subiect to the Sea, and the disposition shee might bee in to destroy him, or succour him. Parselius in Charitie willed them to goe towards him, the Tyde bringing him a pace (as in loue of him) that way. Being neare, hee perceiued the man to be his deare Friend Leandrus, who (in the same fury they had be∣fore falne into, but wanting such helpe as they had) ran into the Sea, mis∣••ing a Boate to conuay him, but not fury to cast away himselfe, crying out he would haue Antissia in spite of the valiantest blacke Knight. But quick∣ly was he cool'd with losse of strength, to saue himselfe from losse, senses were come to him, but alas, too soone to lose them againe, and life with them, if this happy aduenture had not come vnto him. For then cry••d out Parselius, O take vp that worthy body, saue that noble person from such losse; with this they made to him, taking him vp, and after much care, getting life againe, to put it selfe into the Cage of the body, when knowing his friends, but forgetting all things else, they embraced, as soules would (if not by a greater ioy hinder'd) reioyce in the other world, for encountring their best friends. On they rowed, sometimes Parselius and the other Princes ayding the old man; taking their turnes till they discouer'd a Morean Ship, to which they haled. She comming, and her rulers knowing their Prince, with all ioy and dutie receiu'd him, and his company into her. Then securely they

sayled towards Greece: where being landed in Morea, they determined, that since instant ayde could not be giuen them, they should there in a strong Castle remayne, not Prisoners, but Commanders of that place, being an im∣pregnable Fort, and in such a place, as none could land without their fauour; so might they vse the opportunitie of place, and time. The Romanian Knight, after this place was by the Prince deliuer'd to Seleucius and his Nephew An∣tissius (in the same ship had thither brought them) tooke againe to the Sea, intending to goe into Romania, and so hired them for Constantinople. But soone were they alter'd: for meeting another ship which desir'd to know something (the cause of that ships iourney being for discouerie) hee found in her the ancient seruant, and the same faithfull Captaine who had so loyally seru'd the first Antissius. Finding him (and by him, that the Prince was to be found) he with him returned to the Castle: where being receiu'd, and ready to make his discourse, I will leaue him, and goe againe to Parselius, who tooke the directest way to the Court, which was then kept in Arcadia, being a time the King had in pleasure made a iourney that way, to delight himselfe in that most delightfull Countrey. Being there arriu'd, no ioy could be com∣par'd to the Kings and Queenes, seeing their deerest Sonne return'd: but little ioy felt he, Vrania being lost, which onely to Pamphilia he discouer'd, who out of a deere and sisterly affection, the like bewayled absence. Sports and pleasures were euery day offer'd, while he still knew of none, being in them as in another World; onely wherein his owne person was required, there his valour failed not, though his Soule which gouern'd that, was other∣where. Some dayes this lasted: but Parselius, whose loue still vrg'd him, could haue no rest, colouring his paine with the losse of his friend and cousin, which indeed was the cause, but in the feminine gender. The King was the lesse displeas'd, because it was on so worthy a subiect; yet he was sorry, be∣ing the louingest of Fathers, that his deerest sonne should be displeas'd, and most troubled, when hee saw hee would not stay, but againe goe seeke his Friend. Yet before his depart, he gayn'd the promise of his Father, to rayse men to assist Steriamus in his iourney, to conquer his right: which was gran∣ted both for that iust Cause, and likewise, because the faire young Princesse Meriana, Queene of Macedon, by right should be vnto her right restor'd. Thus departed Parselius, leauing Steriamus and his Brother to attend their businesse, and see the men rays'd, himselfe promising within fit time to take their iourney to returne. Leandrus likewise accompanying Parselius to the Court, gaue his word to vse his best power in gayning forces from his Fa∣ther, to assist in this deseru'd occasion, they hauing suffer'd for their Parents loues. To which end he went into Achaya, giuing his hand to Parselius, to be with him in Morea within six moneths, which was the time appointed for their marching forwards towards Macedon, or Albania, as at their next meeting they would agree on. Thus they parted: Parselius as his destinie would guide him, Leandrus to Achaya, and the other Princes remayning in Arcadia with the King, very much esteemed of.

But soone after the Court remooued neerer to the Sea; while Amphi∣lanthus, who hath beene too long forgot, not being time enough remem∣bred, being the most matchlesse Prince with the faire Antissia, being in the

Merchants house as the Romanian Knight told Parselius, finding fit time, and longing to meete his friend, with the Princesse, and the honest paire, took their way towards the Court where the king liued: by the way it was An∣tissia's fortune, to marke (with so yeelding a heart) the louelinesse, sweetnes, brauerie, & strength of the famous Amphilanthus, which in many aduentures hee made testimony of in her sight, before their gaining the Court, as this (alas) made her acknowledge, she had seene but him, who might be thought a Prince, shee had heard of none but him, all others vertues being single in them, but knit in one in him. This made her like, that made her loue: and so she did (poore Lady) to her lost libertie; he, the more he saw her respect to him, answered it with his to her: kindnesse then betray'd them, she shewing it, he (as a kind-hearted Prince to Ladies) receiuing it. By this time they were content to think they loued, and so to know those paines. He was not vnex∣perienced, therefore soone saw remedy must be giuen: and cruelty hee ima∣gin'd it would be in him, who discern'd he might by his art helpe her, if hee refus'd that good, to one so faire, and so kindly louing. This made him in charitie watch his opportunitie, or at least not to loose any, being most with her; and contentedly, because louingly passing the time, entertaining them∣selues with fine discourse many howers together. The good people wearie with trauelling or seeking other necessaries for them, necessarily leauing them then, not with much complaining of their absence.

At last they came vnto the Court, being two moneths after the depar∣ture of Parselius, and the next weeke after the secret departure of Steriamus, which was such, as hereafter you shall heare. His arriuall was as pleasing to the People and Prince, as faire weather is after a storme, or plenty fol∣lowing a great dearth: so generally and particularly was hee beloued; his enemies (for no great man, nor good man liues without) being forced in truth to confesse hee deseru'd much admiration. Hee came pleasantlie thither, and for some dayes continued so: but after, whether misse of his friend Parselius, or some other priuate cause to himselfe mooued him, is not knowne: but sad hee grew, and shunning all other companie, would retire himselfe with Antissia into Pamphilia's chamber, where hee would, when hee speke, direct his speech to her; still blaming her brothers for so strangely leauing their Country, he could not offer speech to her, which she receiued not with much respect, yet was shee generally the most silent and discreetly retir'd of any Princesse. But one day as they were alone together, some discourse falling out of the beautie of Ladies, Amphilan∣thus gaue so much commendations of Antissia, as she betweene dislike, and a modest affection, answered, hee had spoke sufficiently in her praise: for truly my Lord, said she, me thinkes there is not that beautie in her as you speake of, but that I haue seene, as faire and delicate as shee; yet in truth shee's very white, but that extreame whitenesse I like not so well, as where that (though not in that fulnesse) is mix'd with sweete louelines; yet I cannot blame you to thinke her peerelesse, who viewes her but with the eyes of affection. Amphilanthus gaue this reply; That hee till then had neuer seene so much Womanish disposition in her, as to haue so much prettie enuie in her, yet in his opinion (except

her selfe) he had not seene any fairer, Antissia with that came to them, which brought them into other discourses, til they were forced to part. They gone, Pamphilia alone began to breath out her passions, which to none shee would discouer, resoluing rather so to perish, then that any third should know shee could be subiect to affection. Alas, would she say (weeping to her selfe) what haue I deserued to bee thus tyrannically tortured by loue? and in his most violent course, to whom I haue euer been a most true seruant? Had I wrong'd his name, scornd his power, or his might, then I had been iustly censured to punishment: but ill Kings, the more they see obedience, tread the more vp∣on their subiects; so doth this all conquering King. O loue, look but on me, my heart is thy prey, my self thy slaue, then take some pity on me. Being hea∣uie, she went into her bed, but not with hope of rest, but to get more libertie to expresse her woe. At last, her seruants gone, and all things quiet, but her ceaselesse mourning soule, she softly rose out of her bed, going to her win∣dow, and looking out beheld the Moone, who was then faire and bright in her selfe, being almost at the full, but rounded about with blacke, and broken clouds. Ah Diana (said she) how doe my fortunes resemble thee? my loue and heart as cleare, and bright in faith, as thou art in thy face, and the fulnesse of my sorrowes in the same substance: and as thy wane must bee, so is my wane of hopes in my loue; affections in him, being as cold to me, as thou art in comparison of the Sunnes heate: broken ioyes, blacke despaires, incirkling me, as those disseuered clouds do striue to shadow by straight compassing thy best light. When she had (as long as her impatient desires would permit her) beheld the chast Goddesse, she went to her bed againe, taking a little Cabi∣net with her, wherein she had many papers, and setting a light by her, began to reade them, but few of them pleasing her, she took pen and paper, and be∣ing excellent in writing, writ these verses following.

HEart drops distilling like a new cut-vine Weepe for the paines that doe my soule oppresse, Eyes doe no lesse For if you weepe not, be not mine, Silly woes that cannot twine An equall griefe in such excesse.

You first in sorrow did begin the act, You saw and were the instruments of woe, To let me know That parting would procure the fact Wherewith young hopes in bud are wrackt•• Yet deerer eyes the rock must show.

Which neuer weepe, but killingly disclose Plagues, famine, murder in the fullest store•• But threaten more. This knowledge cl••yes my brest with woes T'auoid offence my heart still chose Yet faild, and pity doth implore.

When reading them ouer againe; Fie passion (said she) how foolish canst thou make vs? and when with much paine and businesse thou hast gain'd vs, how dost thou then dispose vs vnto folly, making our choicest wits testimo∣nies to our faces of our weakenesses, and, as at this time dost, bring my owne hands to witnesse against me, vnblushingly showing my idlenesses to mee. Then tooke shee the new-writ lines, and as soone almost as shee had giuen them life, shee likewise gaue them buriall. And yet, said shee, loue must doe thus, and sure we loue his force the better for these fansies. Then putting out the light, lest that shuld too soone wast, beholding her passions, which in hot∣ter flames continued (then the vnited one of the candle could aspire to com∣parison with the smallest of millions of them) turning her in her bed with a deepe loue-sigh, she cried: O loue, thou dost master me.

Thus did the loue wounded Princesse passe that night, or the greater part of it; conuenient time for sports in the morning being come, the king sent for her to attend him and the Queene, to see a match which was made at the Iusts onely, partly to please the king, but most to welcome Amphilanthus. Pamphilia and Antissia were plac'd together; Antissia dearely louing her for her cousins sake; whom so well she lou'd, as she gloried to haue all eares and eyes partake the knowledge of it. Pamphilia did embrace her companie, be∣ing excelling in sweet conuersation, as farre as pleasant and harmelesse mirth could extend: and fit was such a companion, for the melancholy which a∣bounded in the Princesse. Being at the window, and all hauing once runne ouer, Amphilanthus gaind the first honour. Whereat Antissia being ioyfull, Well may it be bestowed on him (said she), for sure none can in all braue ex∣ercises come neere your matchles Cousin, for delicate finenesse, and peere∣lesse power. 'Tis true (said Pamphilia): yet if you saw my brother Parselius, you would (and indeed must) confesse, hee comes the neerest to him, and neerely matches him. I know not him (said Antissia), but if he do but second this, you may boldly say, no Princesse liuing can compare with you for a Co∣sin and a Brother. By this the match was ended, and the Knights comming to the king, hee gaue them thankes, embracing his best beloued Nephew. Then went each one to his Mistris, to receiue their opinions in the defence of their fauours: Antissia telling Amphilanthus, that in her mind, hee alone deseru'd the honour of that day. He repli'd; Her wishes and fauour did pur∣chase him that honour, more power liuing in them, then in his arme or skill. Then did all returne, the Knights conducting euery one his Ladie, Pamphilia went alone, for she not enioying her loue, lou'd to be alone, as she was alone in perfect and vnfortunate louing; thinking so slight a thing as a Knights lea∣ding her, might bee a touch in her thoughts to her spotlesse affection, nor would she euer honour any one, with wearing a fauour in those sports; ha∣uing vowed, that onely one should enioy all loue and faith from her; and in her constancie (this not being knowne, her passions so wisely gouern'd, as she was not mistrusted to loue so violently) made her of many to be esteemed proud, while it was that flame, which made her burne in the humblest sub∣iection of Loues meanest subiects; yet was her choice like her selfe, the best. No day pass'd without some exercises on horseback, wherein Amphilanthus did still adde fame vnto himselfe, by that to make Antissia the more his Pri∣soner: But now is the time for his depart in the search of his friend arriu'd;

if it grieu'd the Court to part with him? it surely heartily perplexed her, whose life depended on his sight; so it tormented her, as with the flowing of teares, her face was martyred so much, as she was not fit to come in com∣pany, hauing turn'd her delightfulnesse to sorrowes, faining her selfe ill, and so keeping her chamber, being seene of none but of Pamphilia, to whom shee had freely discoursed both her affection, and successe in her loue; who like a worthy friend, accōpanied her in this sorrow. The night before he was to go, he came into her chamber to bid her farewell, and to intreate her to remaine there till his returne; the king hauing giuen him his promise, that all honour and respect should bee vs'd to her; the Princesse Pamphilia (he durst say) would doe the like; and for his owne part, care and diligence should not want in him to make his speedy returne. The poore Lady could but with a speechlesse mourning behold him, holding his hand fast in hers, at last sor∣row brought foorth these words for her. My Lord, God knowes how I la∣ment for your going, how much more must your absence afflict me? As you see the one, and may iudge of the other, haue pittie in hastning hither to her, who till then daily will finde a death-like life. So he tooke his leaue of her, promising to performe her commands: then turning to Pamphilia (who had all this while beheld this so sad, but louing parting), Madam (said he) is there any thing left to make me so happy, as that it may bee in my for∣tunes to serue you, and so to be blest with your imployments? My Lord (said she) it is sufficient to be commanded by one, and so beautifull a Lady: for my part, I will entreate your speedy returne, and that you bring my brother with you. With this he left the Ladies, one to lament, the other forc'd to comfort. His iourney he tooke directly toward the sea, meaning at the first conuenient Port to take shipping, and so to passe into Italie, whether, it might be his friend was gone, according to their first agreement. But comming in∣to a place not the richest, but well distant from the worst of countries, in a part within some leagues from the sea, the least inhabited of any of those quarters, being somewhat hilly, and desert-like, he went among some of those hills to rest himselfe, chusing one, the side of it being a fine Wood, the foote of it beautified with a pleasant and swift Riuer, before it a prety Plaine which went not farre, before another Hill proudly ouer-lookt her lowlinesse: his horse he gaue to his Squire, himselfe walking downe into the Wood, and be∣ing taken with the pleasures of that place, hee laid himselfe among them on the ground, speaking these words: What destiny is this, vnhappy man, that no time will bee permitted mee to endure happy in? How is the world de∣ceiu'd, in thinking happinesse consists alone in being belou'd? when as if it proceedes from other then their owne chosen loue, it is a punishment; like as the being cramm'd, when one is full: Loue then (I beseech thee) make me lesse happy in not being lou'd, or truly blest with enioying her heart, who hath made mine her Captiue. But O mee, I doe feare that shee doth loue: wretch that I am, what then must needs befall mee? Death, I cruell'st death, when by a Loue procured. More he was a saying, and surely had discouered his passions in a greater, and more exact manner, but that hee was call'd to at∣tention by a delicate (yet dolefull) voyce, a Lute finely plaid vpon, giuing musicke to his Song, which was this.

A Dieu sweet Sun Thy night is neare Which must appeare Like mine, whose light but new begun Weares as if spun By chance not right, Led by a light False, and pleasing, euer wun.

Come once in view Sweet heat, and light My heauy sp'rit Dull'd in thy setting, made anew If you renew, Daysies doe grow, And spring below Blest with thy warm'th, so once I grew.

Wilt thou returne, Deare blesse mine ••yes Where loues zeale lyes Let thy deere obiect mildly burne Nor flie, but turne 'T is season now Each happy bow Both buds and bloom••s, why should I mourne?

No sooner had he ended his song, but the same voice (though in a more plaining maner) brought forth these words: O life, O death? why am I cloyd with one, & slaue for the other, much more of me desired? False ioyes, leaue, forc'd pleasure fly me, musick why abide you? since ioy, pleasure, and true musick (which is loue) abandons me, shuns me; alas true piece of misery: I who am despis'd, hated, scorn'd, and lost. Are these my gaines vngratefull loue? take here thy conquest, and glory in thy purchase, while I liue loathing my selfe, and all, but her by whom I remaine a wretched forlorne slaue: yet some comfort I haue to sustaine mee, that I suffer for the rarest and most ex∣cellent of women, and so long Cupid vse thy force, and tyrannize vpon my slaughtered heart. These words were to the braue Italian, so iust the image of his owne thoughts, as they were as if his, or like two Lutes tun'd alike, and placed, the one struck, the other likewise sounds: so did these speeches agree to his incumbred thoughts. Willing he was to comfort him, but loth to dis∣quiet him, knowing in this estate lonelines, and disburdning of some part of the like griefe doth ease one: wherefore he remain'd in a doubt what to doe, when as the young man (for so he perceiu••d from such a one the voyce did come) not caring which way he did take, or seeing any direct path, but that his phantasies led him in, came hard by the place where Amphilan∣thus lay, who viewing his youth and delicate beautie, admired and pittied

him. He passed on towards the Riuer, his eyes, as it were, imitating the swift running of that streame, his Lute he held in his hand, till againe hauing some more Verses fram'd in his minde (perfect louers neuer wanting in∣uention) he againe played, and sung; hauing done, O Loue, said he, once ea••e me, or let death seaze me, giuing conclusion to my dolorous daies. What doe I gaine by being a Prince? What auailes it me to hope for a King∣domes Gouernment, when she who is my Kingdome to me, and my Prin∣cesse doth reiect me? Woe is me that euer I knew Morea; Woe is me that e∣uer I beheld Pamphilia; O Phamphili••, would I were but so much honour'd, as thou wouldst but thinke me worthy to kisse thy hands, that would reuiue me, and for that fauour would I thinke my selfe sufficiently requited for all my torments-bearing.

Amphilanthus hearing his Cousen named, and the young man discouer himselfe to be a Prince, wondring in his trauels he had neuer seene him, de∣sirous to be resolu'd of his estate, and name, with all the true cause of his de∣sperate griefe, went towards him curteously, and with respect due to him, saluted him thus. Sir, let not, I pray you, my boldnesse in this interrupting your more pleasing thoughts, be displeasing to you, since it is my fortune (not desire to trouble you) which brought me hither, wherefore, I hope, I shal obtaine pardon of you. The young Prince soberly, and a little blushing, answered. No fault can I find with your being here, or any thing except my owne fortune, which thinkes it selfe neuer curst enough to me; but since, as I assure my selfe, you haue heard my Passions, till now neuer knowne to man, let me know by whom I am discouer'd? Vpon promise to haue the like curtesie from you; replyed the valiant King, I wil not hide my selfe from you: He consenting, the stranger Prince began. Then Sir, know I am called Steriamus, Prince and rightfull King of Albania, brought vnto this countrey by the vertuous and noble Prince Parselius, who hath vndertaken to assist me in recouering the Kingdome lost in my Fathers daies, but what talke I of a Kingdome, hauing lost the power of my content and happinesse; now Sir, performe your word: I am said the other, Amphilanthus King of the Romans. Steriamius knowing him to be that famous Prince, in whose search his friend was gone, fast held him in his armes, crying; yet am I happy to see the most renowned Pri••ce breathing before I dye; for now may I ending say, I haue seene the worth of the world, and feele her greatest cruelty. Am∣philanthus blush••d to heare his vertue so extold, but louingly embracing in like manner the Albanian Prince, was againe sollicited by him, to tell him all his story, which in this manner (sitting downe by the Riuer side) he did discourse. My selfe and my brother being brought by that worthy Prince to his Fathers Court, were there left, he first hauing receiu'd promise, and command being giuen for mens raysing, to restore me (miserable me) to my kingdome, as I before told you, he tooke his leaue, being gone in the search of you, but promised returne within six monthes into Morea, being now gone into Italie, hoping to meete you there. I remaining, grieu'd to part with him, but more afflicted with an incurable wound, which in that Court I re∣ceiu'd. But before I goe any further, I pray tell me whether you haue late∣ly seene the Princesse Pamphilia, for surely then shall I finde one paine trou∣bles vs, and one cure onely for vs; I saw her very lately, repli'd Amphilan∣thus

being but almost now come from her Fathers Court, but for all that you may safely goe on with your discourse.

Then, said he, it was my happinesse to see her, but my misery to fall in loue with her, (cruell she) who if she proue not mercifull to me, I must for her, thus euer suffer: besides, it hinders my going on, in the regaining of Albania; for, what is a Kingdome to me, being subiect to a greater power of the minde? What can that Realme proue to me, if Pamphilia martyr mee? What is a Court to one cast downe to the lowest of Loues slaueries? No Selarinus, thou art worthy, and free, and therefore fit to rule; and God send thee that, and all other good fortunes, and this among the rest, that thou neuer come to the knowledge of thy miserable Brothers end, whose misery did thus begin.

One day as the King and Queene were walking in the Garden, attended on by all the Princes, Ladies, and Knights of the Court, euery one discour∣sing as best pleased them, Pamphilia walked alone, none daring to present himselfe to her: such was the respect all bore vnto her, and feare of displea∣sing her. I saw her, and with that sight lost my selfe; Loue then emboldned me so, as arm'd with his fire, I went to her, and tooke the boldnesse to walke by her, and offering discourse (I confesse vnworthy of her hearing) shee en∣tertain'd me modestly and grauely: Loue for me finding this hope, forc'd me to vse the time, and to speake something of it selfe to her: which shee perceiuing (yet out of pitty not willing too curstly to deale with me) shewd me in her countenance dislike of my speeches. And yet not to put mee too much besides my selfe, called other to her, to adde (as she faign'd) to her company: With a bleeding heart I suffered this disgrace, which yet was by her so handled, as none but my owne soule could witnesse it to any. Thus that day past, sorrow increasing in me, and little mirth growing in her. Oft times would she be ready to sigh, but louing that breath, which shee drew for so loued a cause, she did striue to fetch it backe againe; or else it was to couer her long breathing. Many daies this continued, till one night stan∣ding in a round window in a great Galerie, a Lady who did much vse to ac∣company the Princesse (though she be of the Queenes Chamber) standing by her. Madam, said she, did you euer see so silent a Prince as this is? Surely if he were to winne his Kingdome by words, as it must be done by swords, the Countrey might remaine a long time without the lawfull King. Pam∣philia looked (O me a deadly wound that sweetest looke did proue) plea∣singly vpon me, saying, My Lord, you see this Lady finely begs discourse from you. Alas Diuine Princesse, said I, what discourse can proceed from a dead man? I neuer heard till now, said shee, that dead men walk'd, and spake. Yes Madame, cry'd I, as you haue seene trees continue greene in their branches, though the heart be quite dead, and consum'd away, hol∣lownesse onely remayning: And so is nothing left in me but empty hope, and flourishing despaire. Is there no cure, said she? Yes that there is, said I. Shew it, said she: I looking about, and seeing the other Lady parted from me, besides hard by a faire Glasse (many hanging as ornaments in that Gallery) I tooke it vp turning it to her, mine eyes onely speaking for me. She (with seeing her face, saw my cause of torment) said as little as I: onely ta∣king the Glasse turn'd the other side, which was dull like my gaines, and with

as much scorne and contempt, as could appeare in so much beauty (like as if the Sun would in spite shew himselfe in a storme), she turnd from me. I stood still, for indeed I could not moue, til for my last comfort, sense came to mee, to shew me, I was in no fit place so to betray my passions: wherefore getting so much strength (although no more, then as men after a long sicknes gaine, when they goe with feeble ioynts, the length of a roome; so much had I), and that little with much ado, brought me to my chamber, where I opened my brest to al sorrow, and let mine eies make ful sea of teares. Thus I remaind, till this resolution took me, to wander I car'd not whither, so it were far from knowledge of any, and to leaue that most cruell beauty to her owne content; which yet I feare she hath not, though I truly wish shee had. I call'd my bro∣ther to me, telling him he must be secret to me, as he did hope for loue from mee: which hee vowed, not mistrusting what I meant, till 'twas too late to goe backe. With sobs and teares hee besought mee to alter: but I told him there was no remedie, nor must he breake his oath. Then against his heart he said, he must obay. My charge was this; neuer to reueale my manner of go∣ing, nor euer to seeke after me, or suffer any that he could hinder. Then went I to Pamphilias chamber, where I humbly desired to speake with her; shee gaue me leaue: but when I was ready to say something she preuented me. If you haue, said she, any busines, I shalbe ready to do you any seruice in it: but if it be concerning your glasse discouery, know this, you shall doe best to bee silent; for a greater offence you cannot doe mee. Alas Madam (said I), haue you no pitie for me? I haue pity for any (said she), leaue this folly, and I shall wish you well. That was so cold a fauour for my desires, and my dutifull af∣fection such to her, as not to giue her the least cause of dislike, besought her, she would honour me but so much, as I might kisse her hands before my de∣parture, which was forc'd by an aduenture, calling me away: she nobly grāted that, and said, she wisht me good fortune. I told her, my fortune could only be made by her. Then can it proue little, said she. With trembling and death-like palenes I left her lodgings, hauing yet the fauour which my lips receiu'd, in touching her fairest hand; which kisse shall neuer part from me, till these my lips doe kisse with death. Then wandred I away, till I came hither; neuer fin∣ding any place to please me, nor, alas, doth this, or can any thing but her pity please; only this is lesse distastefull, then those where greater noises be. Here I am quiet, but for my owne quiet, but for my griefe, which neuer giues mee rest. In a little caue in the ground is my lodging, one Squire attending mee, who from a Towne not farre hence fetcheth me prouision: this Lute (a qua∣lity I learnd in the Court since my comming thither) misfortune, and my Mi∣strisses disdaine, my discourse and companions: and thus liues, and daily dies the reiected Steriamus. Hauing finished his tale, his eies flowed againe with teares, as if it were their office to giue the full stop of his discourse. Amphilan∣thus embracing him; Steriamus (said he) leaue these lamentations; for a fury in one (who how worthy soeuer, yet being a woman), may change. How many haue bin condemnd for cruely, that after haue prou'd kind enough? yet speak I not this of Pamphilia, who hath still kept a constant resolution to her selfe. But sure some strange occasion makes her (so full of iudgement and sweet∣nesse) carrie so strict a course in your affections: yet let not that make you for∣get your selfe. The poore Albania (poore in missing you) calls vpon you,

the rest of the world hath need of such Princes: then let not passion ouer∣throw a braue spirit: absence can bring no hope, presence and desert may, if any thing. Or say she neuer loue you, there are other faire Ladies, who will be liker themselues, pitifull and louing. Neuer shall other loue possesse my heart (cride he), and that O heauens still witnesse for mee, and behold this vow, That when I change, it shall be vnto death. Then shutting his hands one fast within the other, he groaning said; Nor euer let these hands part, if I part from this my loue. Time (said he) will giue you (I trust) vnexpected cause of cōfort, in the meane time let vs talk of somthing els. Then Steriamus inuited Amphilanthus to the Caue, dearely louing him for his braue aduice, but most for his cosins sake. There they sat together, lay together, & pass'd some dayes together, till the Albanian was ouercome with the Italians (neuer-fayling) perswading speeches; so as they tooke their course towards the sea, falling in∣to that way which brought them directly to the Castle, where young Antis∣sius and his Vncle were by Parselius left. There they found them, and met the honest Captaine, who was brought thither by the Romanian Knight, who after the whole discourse was told to Amphilanthus, as before it had been to Parselius by the old Prince, and young Knight, continued the story thus. Af∣ter that (deuill of women) the Kings wife had wrought the ruine of Romania, Proclamations out for the bringing of either or both of you, for which large summes of money were offered: but if you could be deliuer'd in aliue, those summes, and great honours with braue possessions: you my Lord made a Traytor, and you Sir hauing your head at sale. Then obtained she, that her sonne was made heire apparant to the Crowne; and that if the King happned to die, while the new Prince was vnder yeares, that then she would gouerne as Protectresse, till hee came of age. This sure, shee grew wearie of the old man, whose age, and dotage (she hauing imploy'd them to her vse, was now cloy'd with them) troubled her; to bee rid of him was then her study. At last finding an easie way (as she thought) shee cald one of her seruants to her (being one who ambitiously sought to win the honour, of being her fauou∣rite) leading him into a priuate Cabinet, where she plotted al her wickednes; there she began with false and forged flattrings to intice him to her purpose; dissimulation, and protestation of her affections she wanted not, to draw him into the yoke of her witch-craft. And what (said she) though the world doe taxe me for louing many? doe not you accuse me, my onely deere; for soo∣ner will I die, then wrong your loue. If my fashion, which is free and familiar, make you doubt me? consider why it is, since it were neither wisdome, nor safety for vs, to vse you only kindly in al sights. The graces others haue, is but to blind their eies, which els would be cleere sighted to our ill, and this euen by the loue you beare me, I coniure you to belieue; and this should you well find, were I at liberty and free. What freedome would you aske? To be my selfe, said shee, and so to take a husband I could loue, as I loue you; and so would make you, were the old man dead. Is that the bar, cride he, deere La∣dy? He is dead, or euen as good, for two daies is his longest terme of life. That done, enioy me, who am onely thine; and verily the thing is easie, safe; and doubtlesse doe it then, and by it purchase me. He long time bewitcht with her craft, allur'd by her beautie, and continued in error by her falsehoods, be∣leeu'd she spake vnfained from her heart, letting himselfe couet that, which

with murder (and treacherous murder) they must gaine frō the true owner But he lookt no further then his loue, to compasse which, no meanes seem'd ill, so partiall was he to his vild desires. Thus was his word engaged, and the kings life limited; which end of time being come, they inticed the graue man into a Parke, where they murdred him, bringing home the old body be∣smear'd in his owne bloud, couerd with their mantles (as the fault was with their fained talles), which were, that in the Wood certaine men, hired as it was likely by you, set vpon him, killed him, and wounded them; shewing some slight wounds which they had (for the greater shew of truth) giuen themselues. The Queene being brought to this sad fight, tooke on strangely, rending her clothes, crying, and euen howling so, as most did pitie her, and few or none accuse her guilty of the crime, so cunning was she in her deepe deceits. Then was the Councel cald, who came, in shew sad, but in harts ioy∣full, wicked men, louing nothing more then change; they brought also the young king to his mother. The people being assembled, and the false report of the kings death deliuerd, wherwith they were satisfied, pitying the woun∣ded body, yet crediting the murderers. Thus was the poore doting King re∣warded for his fondnes. A funerall was made with all ceremonious cost and pompe, the young vnlawfull king being that day crowned, as soone as the bo∣dy was interred. This was yet but one part of the play, the other soone fol∣lowed. She thinking her selfe no way secure (so many knowing of her sin) to auoide punishment on earth, would run yet faster to meet more punishments cause, in the other world, by heaping murders vpon murders: for inuiting all those except her Minion) to a priuate banquet, she poison'd them, reseruing the fauourite for some other vertuous purpose; who being in the pride of his desires, expecting when he should be made her husband, often vrg'd it: but shee put it off with pretence of feare, least that the too sudden marriage might giue occasion to the world to doubt, what was most true, and what their guiltinesse made them mistru••t.

Thus it past a while like a calme tide after a tempest: her sonne and shee being in full possession of all, the neighbour kings sent to condole the death of the king, and to congratulate the other, whether out of loue, or desire of peace (a sweete thing to spritelesse Princes). Among the rest came one, who accompanied the Embassadour of Morea, a Gentleman of excellent parts, winning the loue of all that conuersed with him, hauing a modest gouernment ouer a strong and daintie wit: but as hee was in this happie, hee was crost with the violent loue of the chastlesse Queene, who affected him after her wonted fashion, but so fondly and intemperately, as shee caus'd most to looke with gazing eyes on her: hee was not of the highest stature, though farre from being low; his haire faire, and that beard hee had, something inclind to yellow. Shee saw this Gentleman (who since I learnd, was Sonne to the Duke of Mantinea, and Captaine of a troope of Horse, which was part of the Kings Guard, and the Noblest part; because that Companie must euer bee choice men, and all Gen∣tlemen): Shee wooed him, plainely said, Shee loued him. Yet could not this preuaile, wroth in him, withstanding all her baites: which be∣ing meant as refusals, prou'd inticements to bring her on; like a Spa∣niell, that fawnes on the mans crueltie. Her passions then growne im∣moderate

and vngouernable, yeares increasing in her, and strength of iudge∣ment failing her more then in her youth, gaue such open testimonie of her loue, as her latter seruant (but companion in mischiefe) perceiu'd it; his con∣fidence hauing been such, as that blinded him long time, giuing libertie and assurance in that to her, and her ends, which neuer were but either politike, or lasciuious. But he as hauing new sight giuen him to see her shame, and his owne together; hate taking the place of loue, his desires flew to the ruine of her, as before to the continuance of their dayes in their owne pleasures neuer enough enioy'd. Hee plotted to vndoe her, and watched the opportunity, which he obtaind by his diligent prying; that, bringing him to discouer her going into her Cabinet with his stranger, pretending there to shew him ••ome iewels. They were no sooner within the roome (shee hauing but put the doore a little to, not close), but her inraged enemy came, and finding meanes of discerning what was to be seene, lost it not, but stood still looking in•• She (whose thoughts caried her to higher points then care) took no heed of that which most concern'd her: for there hee saw her with all passionate ardency, seeke, and sue for the strangers loue, yet he vnmoueable, was no fur∣ther wrought, then if he had seene a delicate play-boy acte a louing womans part, and knowing him a Boy, lik'd onely his action; then with much adoe he brought forth these words: Alas Madam, why seeke you at my hands your dishonour and my shame? How dare you venter your honour in the power of a stranger, who likely would vse it to his glory, and your reproch? Besides you know I loue one, whose worth and truth must not be hurt, or blotted in my fault, my life not worthy to satisfie the crime, should her vnspotted loy∣altie suffer for my sinne. Yet satisfie my desire (said she) and then loue whom you will. Loue whom you will (cry'd out the furious forsaken) rushing in∣to the roome as much vnexpected, and vnwelcome, as thunder in winter, which is counted prodigious. The Queene stood amazed while hee vsed these speeches; Fie faithlesse Woman, verifier of that fault whereof I ho∣ped, women had been slandred, and not subiect vnto: haue I obeyed you in your wicked and abominable treasons, thus to be rewarded? She finding hee had not onely found her, but also had discouered her false-hood, withal con∣sidering his rage, she fell at his feet, asking pardon. Pardon your selfe, said he, if you can, and me who want it, as drought doth water: Be your protestations, vowes, and daily giuen oathes come to this? With that most furiously hee ran towards he, but the Morean in humanitie sau'd her from hurt by him; but to hinder that, he was forc'd to struggle with him, who was a strong man, and then had double power. This noyse cal'd in some that waited without, others ran to tell the king, either to shew forwardnesse in seruice, or indeed busines, not caring what they carry, so it be newes; wanting the chiefest part, which is iudgement, to know, where, when, and what to tell. But in briefe, the king came, and finding this vnfortunat disorder, not being able to win from them by faire meanes the truth, (to auoyde all ill) committed them to prison, from whence (for the speedier, and so more secure proceeding) the next morning they were brought to publike arraignement: but the King was not present, fearing those things (which after brake forth) would then be blowne forth. And indeed it was so, for the accused being demaunded what he could say in his owne defence; said, Nothing but wherein he must accuse himselfe. Being

vrged to that, hee confest all, finishing his speech thus; For her sake, by her consent, knowledge, and command, I slew the King; shee hauing giuen mee her faith (which as a faith I esteemd; but alas, it was a shadow put in a false light) that she would marry me; this added to a naturall ambition I had to greatnesse, not iudicially weighing, how heauy in iustice this weight of ho∣nor should bee, so diuellishly sought for, or attained. For this hee was con∣demned to die, the manner by foure wild horses: but before his execution she was examined, with whom few words were vsed, before she confest her selfe guilty. She was likewise condemned (for being a subiect, shee was vn∣der the law), and so had her head struck off, the stranger was deliuered free a∣gaine. Many pitied her, to whom she had done good (for none can be found so ill, that some will not commiserate); yet the most (like the base world) left her, hauing held with her while her power shin'd, but now set with her light, running to the rising strength, not to the declin'd: few said, shee was wrongfully put to death, either for loue to her, or to make busines: for no soo∣ner was she dead, but one of her antienter fauorites rose in rebellion, the peo∣ple apt to take any occasion to stirre new afflictions: but a great party he hath go••ten, and so much gaind, as the King is now shut vp in the great City of Constantinople, the Rebell (as the vnlawfull king doth call him) besieging him, and vowing neuer to lay downe Armes, till he hath gotten him in his power: and now do they all cry out for Antissius, honouring the very name as a god; wishing for you Sir, and vowing if they can recouer you, to make you their King. Thus haue I left them, the Generall (for so he is called) hauing inioy∣ned me to find you out; they are infinite strong, and want but you, and some braue men to gouerne them. Goe now I beseech you; neuer had Romania more need, nor shall you euer finde a fitter time.

The Princes sat a while in consultation, at last they resolu'd presently to take the iourney in hand, not holding it good to loose so fit an opportunitie. The Squire of Amphilanthus was sent to find Parselius in Italy, and to ac∣quaint him with their affaires, withall to entreat his company. This conclu∣ded on, all went to rest, Steriamus desiring, that because his name was not yet knowne by desert, it might be still kept secret; and most he desired it, by rea∣son of his vow. They agreed to it, and he was only call'd, The true despis'd, which was all the deuice in his shield. Amphilanthus did desire to be held vn∣knowne too: but his reason was, that it was not so safe for so famous a man to be commonly knowne, in so great & imminent dangers; besides, the renowne of him, might make many refuse the combate with him, who else hee might for sport or profit encounter: hee had Loue painted in his shield, and was call'd, The Knight of Loue.

Towards Romania with prosperous winds they sailed, chusing the way by sea as the shortest, and lesse troublesome. In a fit and short time they arriu'd in Romania, landing a little from the Towne, for feare of vnknowne dangers, and so they past to the Armie, where Antissius and his Vncle being knowne, vnspeakable ioy was made, the Generall yeelding all into his hands, and ta∣king his authority from him. Vpon this the Vsurper sent for a Truce, but that was denied: then hee desired (rather then to continue immur'd in that kind, besides, ready to bee famisht), that they would bring three Knights into the field, the which number hee would also bring, himselfe

being one, and those sixe to end the businesse, which side ouercomming, the other should depart with peace, and neuer make more warre•• one a∣gainst another. This was accepted, Amphilanthus and Steriamus being two, the third they had not yet appointed, nor would, till the day of combate; still expecting some famous Knight, or Parselius himselfe, might come to fill the number: if none, then the young Knight their first acquaintance should be the man.

The day come, when as the Lists were made without the Towne, the Iud∣ges appointed, old Seleucius, Vncle to Antissius, and the honest Captaine Lisandrinus, were the Iudges for their side: on the other, were the Admirall, and Marshall of Romania. The Gates were all set open, and free libertie giuen euerie one to passe where hee listed, onely inioyn'd to goe vnarm'd. The first that entred into the field was the King, on each hand of him his two Companions in fight; before him six men bare-headed, one carrying his Helme, three other his Speares, the two last his Sword and Sheild: his Armour was greene, floured with Gold; the furniture to his Horse of the same colour, cut into Garlands of Laurell, and embroide∣red with Gold; but so artificially ioynd together, as they seemd when the Horse stird, to rise as ready to crowne each part of his conquest. In his Shield he had a crowne of Bayes, held vp by a Sword; Word he had none, so as it seemd he staid for that, till his hoped for victorie had prouided one for him. The other Knights were both alike in Watchet and Gold; their deui∣ces a blew Cloud, out of which sparkled fire.

But then came the honour of his sexe, neuer enough admired, and be∣lou'd Amphilanthus, his Armour was white, fillited with Rubies; his fur∣niture to his Horse Crimson, embroydred with Pearle; his Shield with the same•• deuice, from which hee tooke his name. Steriamus according to his fortune was in Tawny, wrought all ouer with blacke. As they were en∣tring, a braue Gentleman in a murry Armour, fillited with Diamonds, his furniture richly wrought with Siluer and Gold, came to Amphilanthus, vsing these words: My Lord, your worth cannot bee hid, though you haue ob∣scured your name; they both (but the former most) ties mee to be your ser∣uant, and as the first fauour I shal receiue, beg the honor of being third in this braue exploit; not that I am so ignorant, as to thinke my selfe worthy of be∣ing your Companion, but wholly out of ambition to serue you. Amphilan∣thus looking vpon him, seeing the richnes of his Armes, and the brauerie of his Personage, being as comely and strong•• set, as euer hee had seene any, made him this answer. Sir, the honor is mine, to gaine so braue a Companion and friend, wherein I reioyce; and in place of your loue to me, giue you mine, which is and shall be firme vnto you, and with all my heart embrace your offer to bee the third, not now doubting of the victorie, hauing so hap∣py a beginning. Then they imbraced, and taking him on the left hand of him, and Steriamus on the right, they went on to the Iudges: and all sixe meeting together, speaking some few wordes one to another, they parted to meete, neuer more to part on some sides. Amphilanthus en∣countred one of the Watchet Knights, Steriamus the King; and the For∣rest Knight (so being called, because of his Deuice, which was a great and pleasant Forrest, most pleasantlie set forth, as the cunning of

the rarest Painter could deuise) met the other watchet knight. The first Knight lost his Stirrop, else there was no aduantage on any side, and thus they continued the three courses; then lighting and drawing their swords, there grew the cruellest, and yet delightfullest Combate, (if in cruelty there can be delight) that Martiall men euer performed, or had beene seene by iudging eyes: for neuer was courage, magnanimity, valour, skill, and nim∣blenesse, ioyn'd better together; so as indeed a Kingdome was too low a prize for such a Combate. Long it continued, till the Knight of Loue, dis∣daining one man should hold out so long with him, gaue him such a wound in the head as therewith he fell downe dead at his feete. At the same instant the King gaue Steriamus, a great hurt in the body, but he was quickly paid with a wound in the belly, which gaue him his discharge, and freed him from any more trouble of ruling or obeying. The Knight of the Forrest seeing his Companions good fortune, knew it his part to accompany them, so as with a surely giuen stroke, the head of the other, and last knight fell to kisse his feete. Steriamus was carried presently into the Towne, where by the helpe of a good Chyrurgion, he was soone recouered. The Iudges all in face glad, (howsoeuer some of their hearts were affected) came to them, who with the rest, presently proclaymed Antissius King, who was by the people receiued with much ioy at the Coronation, which was within short time. Antissius created the Generall, Duke of Neapolis, and Lysandrinus Duke of Selybria.

All things being in quiet, the Knight of Loue would needes returne into ••orea, to see things fitting for Steriamus, and to accompany him in his Conquest. With him went the Knight of the Forrest, betweene whom grew so strict a bond of Friendship, as was neuer to be broken, they two ly∣ing together in one roome, Steriamus in another, by reason of his hurt. Amphilanthus in the night often turn'd, and turning, still did end with sighes. The Forrest Knight perceiu'd it, yet let him alone till the morning, when being ready to rise; My onely friend, said he, Your last nights ill rest made mine vnpleasing to me, and most, because mine ignorance hinders me from being able to serue you. I cannot be yet so bold to demand the cause, since what proofe haue you of me, that I should thinke you might esteeme mee worthy of such a fauour? Yet this you may be confident of, that death shall ceaze me, before I refuse to venter life to obtaine your desires; and lose it rather, then reueale any secret you shall impart to me. Amphilanthus an∣swer'd, that he saw vnexpected good happen to him in al things (especially in this blessed friēdship) but in that which he most sought for, nor would I con∣ceale the cause of this my paine from you, were it once discouer'd to her from whom I suffer it, but till then I must conceale it; and you, I hope, on this occasion will excuse me: and for proofe of your accepting this for that which it is, being truth, tell me your loue, and fortune in it, which shall binde me to confidence, and ingage me to the relation of mine. My Lord, said he, to satisfie you (which is the all of my wishes) vnderstand, that my poore selfe (onely rich in the honour of being your friend) hunting one day in a great forrest, my Father, the king of Bohemia, and many other Princes of Germanie, being assembled; It was my fortune following the sport more eagerly then the rest, to goe so farre from my company, as I was

left in the woods all night: there I tooke my lodging, resting free from passion, if not rage, for wanting iudgement so to be lost. In this night, and middest of it (for I wak'd with the dreame, and found it was not day) me thought I saw a Creature, for shape a woman, but for excellencie, such as all the rarenesin that sexe, curiously, and skilfully mixed, could but frame such an one; and yet but such a one in shew, like a Picture well drawne, but the sub∣iect more perfect, apparelled in greene, her haire hanging carelesse, nothing holding it, but a delicate Garland, which she wore vpon her head, made of Pansies, and Wood-binds. Her face bare, boldly telling me, not I onely, but all hearts must burne in that purenesse: Eyes like the perfect'st mixtures of heauenly powers, not to be resisted but submitted to. Lipps fully comman∣ding the plenty of duty, when they seem'd to demaund obedience: Her neck the curiousest pillar of white Marble, breast of Snow, or smooth waues of Milke, swelling, or falling, as the sweet gale of her most sweet breath did rise, or slacke. All other parts so exquisite as none, saue onely she, can be so excelling. This I found in her, who me thought, came to mee vsing these words. Arise, leaue Bohemia, and rescue me from the hands of Rebels. I cride out, stay, O stay, and tell me how, and where•• In Hungaria, said shee, with that I wak'd hauing her Image so perfect in my breast, as nothing can remooue it from me. A pretty while I lay still, wishing to sleepe againe, so once more to haue beheld her; but she was too rich a Iewell slightly to appeare to such worthlesse eyes. Contented with that I had seene, I lay fee∣ding on that and my resolution which was to seeke her. When day began to appeare, what ioy was it to me•• But for my greater comfort I found hard by me this Armour laid with this Shield, and Sword. I staid not but put it on, thinking with myselfe how to attaine to the honour of Knight-hoode, my Father hauing refused it to me, because my elder Brother, being weake and sickly, had not demanded it; resoluing I should attend his encrease of strength, my Fathers whole content being in that Sonne. Considering this, I knew it no way to goe to him: wherefore arm'd, (my Squire carry∣ing my Sword, I passed vnto the Emperours Court, who without delay gaue me what I demanded, honoring me with the gift of an excellent Horse, and furnishing me with all conueniencies.

Then tooke I my way for Hungarie, which Kingdome I had no sooner entred, but I mett the newes of a great rebellion made by the vncle Kings Bastard sonne, called Rodolindus, against the Daughter and Heire of the se∣cond brother, called Melasinda, who was Crowned Queene, after the de∣cease of her Vncle and Father. But hee enuying her greatnesse, and am∣bitiously seeking the honour himselfe, claym'd a contract betweene the King and his mother, with all vowes and protestations of marriage. Wit∣nesses he produced, true or false they made a terrible stirre, and brought the fairest Malasinda into great danger. Troopes I continually mett, some with the Queene, some against her: with much difficultie I pass••d till I came to an ancient Lords Castle, within two leagues of the City of Buda, where∣she was inclosed; this nobleman held with his Soueraigne, and after much discourse of those affaires, he led me into a Gallery where he shewed mee the picture of that distressed Princesse; truely, I will not say, so well drawn, as that which remaines figur'd in my heart, but so well, as none but her

Counterfeit could appeare so beautifull, and such, as I knew it to be the same which in that blessed night in the Forrest shewed her selfe to me. This made me conclude, the aduenture was reseru'd for me: wherefore care∣fully examining all things that had passed, and curiously and affectionatly weighing the businesse, and meanes to atchieue the finishing, not leauing any thing vnask'd, that might auaile, concluding to aduenture what ere came of it. The good Lord aduised me, (perceiuing my purpose) to bee ruled by him: which I consented to, when I found hee meant honestly for his Princesse good, and circumspectly for my safety, by no meanes suffering me to enter the Towne, as my selfe, (by reason of a great hate had been be∣tweene our Parents) but as an aduentrous Knight, who hearing of her trou∣bles offerd my seruice to her. She most faire, most louely ••hee, accepted me into her seruice, where I performed what was put into my trust: in two dayes killing two of the mightiest, and strongest knights of all his par∣ty. In the ende, the Councell of both sides, and the people weary of war, aduised, and agreed vpon a peace, on those conditions, that he should lay downe all claime to the Crowne, yeelding it wholly to her; but in re∣quitall, shee should take him for her Husband. This was bitter to her, but this she must doe, or be left alone, people-lesse, and kingdome-lesse. I was but one, and vnable to set the Crowne, and keepe it on her head against the whole state: wherefore louing her so much, as not daring to thinke of any harme to her, in giuing ill aduise, (nor could my soule allow her lesse then the kingdome) with the rest, I perswaded for him; till shee told me; She was sorry she no better deseru'd my loue, but that I would thinke another fitter for it, or she vnworthy of mine.

I swore (and truely) the world had not that treasure I more couetously sought, then her enioying; she vrg'd the vnkindnesse betweene our Parents, made me doubt: I firmely vow'd, her loue made me secure, and happy: but what I did, or said in this, was onely for her good and safety.

With much adoe, and long perswasions I wonne (her loue to mee) her yeelding for the other; so the match was concluded, and peace on all sides, I leading her the day of her marriage to her wedding Chamber, where I left her to her husband; the next morning shee came downe into a little Garden, whereinto no window looked, but that in her Cabinet, nor key could open but her owne. Into this place I was conuay'd by her woman a little before, where meeting her, we passed some houres together. Thus was I the blest man, inioying the world of riches in her loue, and hee con∣tented after, hauing what he sought. Thus I liued a while, till I found him alter'd, and the face of the Court a little chang'd towards mee (for for∣mer causes they pretended, forgetting me, and what was done by mee for them) which made me, fearing her harme, leaue the Country for a while, which little time to me already seemes ages, being yet but moneths, and few in number, though in loue innumerable. She was sad, and grieu'd for my going; I playd the woman too, and wept at our departing, but soone I hope againe that we shall meete, howsoeuer I will see her, though in pri∣uate, and venter life for it. After that I left Hungary, I came through many Countries, till I came into Italie, and so hoping to meete you there; but hea∣ring of your being in Morea•• I went crosse the Sea into that Countrey, and

so had mist you, but that I fortunately met your Squire, who seeking Parseli∣us enquired of me, for him, and I for you of him. Wee resolu'd each other, I telling him where I had left him, which was in Elis, after a delicate and strange aduenture finishing, and being directed by him how to know you, I was the better instructed to present my seruice to you, which the fame of your worth had long since dedicated to you.

Leaue complements deere friend (said Amphilanthus), it is not now time to vse them, our loues hauing sealed them vp in truth; giue such delicate phrases to your next Mistris. My next: why, thinke you I will change? If you bee wise (said Amphilanthus), and would my fate would change, then were I happy; one such minute, wherof it seemes you haue had seasons, would be more welcome to me, then the Crowne of Naples; yet would I haue her chaste still, and then I hope I should with truth and seruice win her. Is shee yet to be won (said the Bohemian)•• Yes (said the Italian), by me she is: and what tormenteth me is, I feare she loues my friend. He is no friend that wil not yeeld to you (said he). I should not loue him (said Amphilanthus), if his loue to mee should exceed that to so incomparable a creature. How know you she doth loue (said the Prince)•• I only feare (said he), and dare not hope it is my selfe: but surely she doth loue. Hope and beleeue (said he) and that will make you bold to shew yours to her, and then who can refuse you? Would this were true, and then had I the only victory I seeke. Aduenture braue Prince (said the Bohemian), neuer yet faild your conquest on men, and women are the weaker and gentler: besides, you are (the world sayes happy in those wars) so fortunate and so louing, as you cannot faile, nor she resist. I am no coward, though mistrust my strength in her sight; her lookes (said Amphilanthus) are to me (if frowning) more terrible then death: yet come what will, I must aduenture; if I obtaine, I will be as free with you, as you haue been with me, else keepe my disgrace, my fortune, and affliction from discouery made by my tongue. Will not your face declare it thinke you? therefore to auoide such inconuenience, woe brauely, and resolutely, and then win ioyfully, and blessedly. Morning being somewhat spent, they rose, and so tooke on their way, Steriamus hauing yeelded to Amphilanthus earnest perswasion, to goe with him into the pleasant Morea. Parselius, after he had left his Fathers Court and friends together, with his sad thoughts, he betook himselfe to Elis, and so to ship for Italy, to fetch his friend to assist the two Princes, and after to goe and redeeme his heart out of the enchantment: as he past along in the country of Elis, one day being so busied, as his thoughts had chāgd him into thēselues, his horse carying him which way he best lik'd he was cald vpon by a rude voice, which wild him, to know himselfe better, then so proudly to carry himself before a Princesse. Looking vp to see what, and who this was, he perceiued close by him a troope of Ladies, all on horse∣back, and many Gentlemen and Knights attending them, but one who had aduentur'd to instruct him a little more then the rest, to whom he thus spake; Truly sir (said he) this fault was caused by melancholy, not by rudenes; for I haue bin too wel brought vp to be vnciuil to Ladies. It appeares so indeed, said he, that thus you stand prating to me, and do no reuerence to her who best de∣serues it. The Prince angry at his boldnes, but vnwilling to wrangle with him, only turnd to the Ladies, & made a reuerence to thē, offring to passe by thē;

but the first Knight seeing that: Stay Sir (said he) you haue not done all, 'tis not a curtesie shall serue, for we must see if your valour be equall to your man∣ners. They haue commonly gone together (said Parselius): but where are your Armes? Hard by (said the other), and that you will too soone find. I'm sure (said he) I haue found words enough, which may make me hope to scape the better from your blowes. He went and arm'd himselfe, the like did all the rest, while the Prince stood beholding the Lady, who was of great beauty and brauery; apparreld in a hunting garment of greene cut with red, the vpper and lower part of her gowne embroydred with gold, and red, afea∣ther of red and greene in her head; the furniture to her horse of the same co∣lour and richnes, to whom Parselius thus spake: Madam, if I had offended you, the least of your corrections had made me submit, without the furie of your Knights, who me thinkes were very confident of the due respect you may challenge, els vnarm'd they would not haue bin so forward to the com∣bate. Sir (said she) you are deceiu'd in this, for such is their valour, as none yet euer equall'd them, especially him that first spake; nor haue they reason to trust any further on me, then their owne swords will warrant them in; but indeed the cause of all this, is a vow which I haue made, which is this; My selfe being daughter to the Prince of Elis, which Countrie is in homage sub∣iect to the king of Morea, it was my ill fortune to fall in loue with the scorne∣full and proud Prince of that Countrie, called Parselius, who did not content himselfe with disdaining me, but boasted of my subiection, and to my selfe, when I with humilitie besought his fauour; he told me, he was no subiect to Loue. This hath made me vow reuenge, to which end I keepe these knights about me, and neuer meete any stranger, that they encounter not, nor shall, till we meete him; and if good fortune fall, that we win him by combate, I will then win him by loue, or obtaine my will by force.

By this the Knights were come, who setting on the braue Prince one after another, he ouerthrew them all, and left them, most not able to goe thence, some starke dead, the best, leggs or armes broken. This done, the Lady a∣gaine spake: Sir, since fortune and your power, hath left mee guardlesse, I hope you will conduct me to the Towne, besides, let me know who you are. Madam (said hee) as I take it, by the course of Armes you are mine; for if you were to win mee by their conquest, by the same reason you must be lost, if they be vanquished. Tis true Sir (said she) and such indeed were the con∣ditions; yet I had hop'd you would neuer haue called that in question. Nor truly Madam (said he) doe I it, with any meaning to keepe you, though my victory giues you to me: but to shew I am ciuill, and not vnmannerly, I will deliuer you here to your Ladies and Pages; that I am not proud or scornfull, I kisse your hands: but to let you see I disdaine an vnworthy loue, or a forc'd one, Parselius bids you thus farewell, and will yet pray, that your senses may tell you, a lower choice, and an humbler mind will proue more fit and happie for you; and such I wish you, since for mee you haue been dis∣tempered.

Thus hee departed, leauing her amazed and afflicted, with hate, disdaine, scorne, and all other shee accused him of, till shame ouercame, and forst her to returne to a good old man her father; whose mild and good ex∣ample, brought her to follow the counsell of Parselius, who held on his

iourney, taking ship for Italy, he landed in the kingdome of Naples; those ve∣ry parts, making him remember that, which too well still continued in his mind, which was the sweet and delicate Iland, wherein he found the swee∣test, and delicatest of Shepherdesses; the thought of whom brought forth these words, his heart bleeding as fast, as before his eyes had shed sad drops. O sweet Iland, cride he, and yet desolate Pantalarea, how doe our afflictions suit as one, and so our destinies? Vrania hath left thee, and thou mourn'st; Vrania hath left mee, and I pine. Deerest Vrania, deere vnto me still; why wouldst thou for nouelties leaue thy faithfull Parselius? why wouldst thou not be as well then aduised, as till that time be gouernd by my counsell? Yet foole, most blame thy selfe: for why didst thou permit-her dainty lips to touch that charmed Brooke? nay, still adde vnto thy folly; why wouldest thou drinke so ha••tily thy selfe, and so haue no meanes left to helpe or saue? Accursed Spring, from whence did run the ruine of my blisse. Bewitching streame, to charme me to the losse of my soules ioyes; spitefullest of the gods, or goddesses; was it for reuenge, because wee would not trie your charmed house, that yet their cruell triall should be made vpon vs? Vnlucky tempest, constraining vs to land on that much more vnlucky shore. Leauing his ship, he went a land, commaunding his seruants to goe to the Court, and if they came before him thither, there to attend till his comming, but secretly; him∣selfe going along the sea-side, his mind as vnrestingly running on Vrania, as a hurt bird, that neuer leaues flying till he falls downe: no more did hee rest, till death-like sleepe did force him to obay; yet were his dreames oft of her, his mind then working, and presenting her vnto his imagination, as in day his thoughts did to his heart: so did the eyes of his louing soule, euer behold her, accusing himselfe for his folly, fearing the power of the charmes, whose wicked might, might alter her; assuring himselfe, shee must be deceiu'd by them, if euer she did change. In this violent feauer of sorrow hee went on, till he discern'd a man come from vnder the ro••ks that proudly shewed their craggie faces, wrinkling in the smiles of their ioy, for being aboue the Sea, which stroue by flowing to couer them; but for all that ambition, was forc'd to ebbe in penance for that high desire. He came arm'd at all points, leading in his hand as beautifull a Lady as Nature could frame, and sorrow suffer to appeare so; being such an one, as both had vs'd their best art to frame, and suf∣fer to shew excellent; had she bin free, how much more rare must she then of necessity appeare, who in misery shew'd so delicate? The Morean Prince staid to behold, & beholding did admire the exquisitenes of that sad beautie, but more thē that did the cruelty of the armed man seeme wōderful, for leading her to a pillar which stood on the sand (a fit place that the sea might stil wash away the memorie of such inhumanity) he tied her to it by the haire, which was of great length, and Sun-like brightnesse. Then pulled hee off a mantle which she wore, leauing her from the girdle vpwards al naked, her soft, dain∣tie white hands hee fastened behind her, with a cord about both wrists, in manner of a crosse, as testimony of her cruellest Martyrdome. When shee was thus miserably bound to his vnmercifull liking, with whipps hee was about to torment her: but Parselius with this sight was quickly put out of his admiration, hasting to reuenge her wrong, setting spurres to his horse, hee ran as swift as Lightning (and as dangerous this happned to the

Knight) towards them, yet sending his voyce with more speede be∣fore him, crying, vilde Traitor, hold thy hands and turne thy spight on mee, more fit to encounter stripes, hoping thus to saue her from some, which if but one, had beene too much for such delicacie to en∣dure.

But hee (whose malice was such, as the neerer hee saw her succour, the more was his fury encreased) looking vp and seeing a braue knight accompany that voice, casting his hatefull looke againe on her, and throw∣ing away the Whips, drew his Sword, saying, nor yet shall this newe Champion rescue thee; then ready to haue parted that sweet breath from that most sweet body, Parselius came, and struck downe the blow with his Sword, though not so directly, but that it a little rased her on the left side, which shee perceiuing, looking on it, and seeing how the bloud did trickle in some (though few) drops, Many more then these, said shee, haue I in∣wardly shed for thee my deare Perissus; but that last word she spake softlier then the rest, either that the strange Knight should not heare her, or that she could not affoord that deere name to any, but her owne eares.

Shee being thus rescued, the Knight strake fiercely at Parselius, who met him with as much furious strength, giuing him his due in the curst∣edst kind, and fullest measure, making such proofe of his valour (iustice being on his side, which best guides a good sword in a noble hand) as in short time hee laid him at his feete, pulling off his helme to cut off his head. But then the Ladie cride vnto him, beseeching him to stay that blow; the like did another Knight newly arriu'd, who vntide the Lady. Whereat Parselius was offended, thinking himselfe highly iniured, that any, except himselfe, should doe her that seruice, telling him, Hee much wondred at his boldnesse, which had made him offer that wrong vnto him. I did it (said the new Knight) but to giue her ease, and so to bring her, that wee both might acknowledge humble thankfulnesse for this braue and happy reliefe, which hath brought her blessed safety•• Parselius hearing this curteous answere, was satisfied: then looking on the vanquish∣ed Knight, hee demaunded, Why hee had vsed that cruelty to so perfect a Lady? As he was answering, the stranger Knight knew him, casting his eye vpon him, and without any word, would as soone haue depriued him of his life: but Parselius stayd him, blaming him for seeking the death of a man already dying. He confessing his fault, askt pardon; and pulling off his helme, told him, that there he stood ready to receiue punishment for twice so offen∣ding him.

Parselius, though not knowing him, yet seeing his excellent personage, and princely countenance, imbraced him, telling him, That honour might gaine, nay challenge pardon for a greater fault, then was possible to bee com∣mitted by such a braue Knight, he likewise taking off his helme. When Lime∣na (who was this sad tormented Lady) saw her Perissus (for Perissus it was), the ioy she conceiu'd was iust such, as her loue could make her feele, seeing him her soule had onely loued; after so many cruell changes, and bitter passions in their crost affection. This being past, the wounded Knight be∣gan thus.

First (said hee) let mee know by whose hand I haue receiued this wor∣thie

end, and indeed, too worthy for so worthlesse a Creature, who now, and but now, could discerne my rash, and wicked error: which now I most heartilie repent. Now are mine eyes open to the iniuries done to vertuous Limena, her chastity appeares before my dying sight, whereto before, my eyes were dimme, and eares deafe, seeing and hearing nothing, but base falshoods, being gouern'd by so strong and vndeserued Iealousie.

Next, I must aske pardon of you my Lord Perissus, deny not these Peti∣tions, I humbly beseech you, both vnto a dying man, who in his life, did offer you too foule, and too vnpardonable an iniury. Perissus seeing his spee∣dy end approaching, hauing the noblest and freest heart, forgaue him that offence, which proceeded from the same ground that his crosses came from, both taking roote from Loue, and yet Loue in that kinde chang'd nature with madnesse, when attended on with so much iealousie; then with a milde voice, he spake.

Philargus, said he, I am glad your punishment is accompanied with so happy and true repentance; I doe freely forgiue you, and thinke no more of that past, then if neuer done. But this I desire you will demand the like of your excellently vertuous wife, who hath beene the patient of all your fury. That I doe, said Philargus, and let my soule enioy no happinesse, if I wish not her as well as it. Then deare Limena, haue you pardon'd me? if not, O doe, and forgiue vnfortunate, and ill-deseruing Philargus My Lord, said she, I most sincerely and heartily forgiue you, and so I pray, doe you the like for me; my dearest then, said he, I happily, and thrise happily now shall welcome death. For your other demand, said the braue Prince, my name is Parselius, Prince of Morea: Philargus kissing his hand, gaue him thankes, and weeping for ioy said. Most fortunate end, how doe I embrace thee, comming so luckily, and brought thee by such royall hands? Then taking Perissus by the one hand, and Limena by the other, he said, I haue yet one request more to make, which granted, I shall dye with all content, and this is only in you two to consent to, they promised that then he should not be refused. These misfortunes, said he, which now are past, and I hope shall haue buriall in mee, haue neuerthelesse (it is most likely) left some false conceipt remaining in the hearts of some people: which to remedy and vtterly take a∣way, desiring Limena's honor (which without questiō remains spotted) might flourish as deseruedly, as the clearenesse of it selfe is, without so much as the shadowe of a thought to the contrary. I beseech you, for your owne best fortunes, and my quiet departing, to promise mee that after my death you will marry each other. One more worthy (my Lord), more loy∣all, more chaste, the world holds not; and this are you bound to doe for her, who for you hath been wrongd; and Limena deny not this to your dying husband, being the last he can euer aske you. He needed not vrge them much to what they most coueted, and purposed in their hearts before: yet to giue him full satisfaction (though on her side with bashfull and fearefull consen∣ting) they yeelded to him. Then my Lord (said he) take her, and my hearts prayers with best wishes to you; and my best belou'd Limena, in witnesse of my loue to you, I bestow on you this most worthy Lord, far better befitting you, and my whole estate: with that, embracing them, kissing her; and lastly, lifting vp his eyes to heauen, he departed, they like true friends closing his

eyes. Being now growne late, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 that night they went into the Caue, which but lately had been the pri••on of sweet Limena: with them they ca∣ryed the body, laying it in the further part of the hollownesse. Then did Parselius tell them how infinitly happy he esteemed himselfe•• in hauing come so luckily to serue them, of whom, and whose vnfortunat affection hee had heard, hauing had it from the rare Shepherdesse. Name her he could not, his breath being stopp'd with sighes, and his teares falling down in all abun∣dance, sent from his heart, which dropp'd like the weeping of a Vine, when men without pitty wound it. Perissus seeing his sorrow, made hast to ask the cause, fearing some great harme had befalne that Diuine Creature, of whom he gaue such praises, as Limena thought they were too much, which hee perceiuing left, with demanding of her safety, and why his greeuing was; which Parselius hauing passionatly, and truely related, he desired most ear∣nestly, to heare the rest of Limena's story; which she thus began.

My Lords, after I sent the Letter, and the time expired, Philargus came for my answer, or to performe his vowe, which with desire I attended, al∣though he contrary to my wishes prolonged it. When hee had what I re∣solud to giue him for satisfaction, which was a direct deniall, being in these words: I know, as your wife, I am in your power to dispose of; then vse your authority, for so foule a staine will I neuer lay vpon my bloud as to be∣tray the Prince: name you in truth I durst not, least at the last that might mooue my affections. Then did he command me to goe with him, (to my death I hoped) when he brought me into a great Wood, in the mid••t where∣of he made a fire, the place being fit, and I thinke, sure had been vsed in for∣mer time to offer sacrifice in to the Siluan Gods. Then hee made mee vn∣dresse my selfe, which willinglie, and readily I did, preparing my selfe to be the poore offring, but the richest, that richnesse of faith in loue could of∣fer. When I had put off all my apparell but one little Petticote, he opened my breast, and gaue me many wounds, the markes you may here yet dis∣cerne, (letting the Mantle fall againe a little lower, to shew the cruell re∣membrance of his crueltie) which although they were whole, yet made they newe hurts in the louing heart of Perissus, suffering more paine for them, then he had done for all those himselfe had receiued in his former aduen∣tures; therfore softly putting the Man••le vp againe, and gently couering them, lest yet they might chance to smart, besought her to goe on, longing to haue an end of that tragicall historie, and to come againe ••o their meeting, which was the onely balme could be applied vnto his bleeding heart. She ioyfull to see this passion, because it was for her, and sorry it was Perissus did sorrow, proceeded: And after these, threatning many more, and death it selfe, if yet I consented not. But seeing nothing could preuaile, hee tooke my clothes, and with them wip'd the bloud off from me, I expecting nothing but the la••t act, which I thought should haue been concluded with my burning; his mind chang'd from the first resolution, so as taking me by the haire, and dragging me into the Wood among the bushes (whose cursenesse seconded their ma∣sters furie) tearing my skinne, and scratching my bare leggs, to a tree he there tied me: but not long •• continued there, for he going a little from me, retur∣ned with a Pastors coat, which he tooke from a poore man, that was in that Wood, seeking a lost Beast; with this he disguised me, and also hauing taken

the mans Horse, tooke me behinde him, putting a gag in my mouth, for feare I should speake for helpe, posting vnused waies through the desart to the Sea∣side, where he got a boate, and so passed ouer to this place, where euer since we haue remained; for my part, with daily whippings, and such other tor∣tures, as pinching with irons, and many more so terrible, as for your sake (see∣ing your griefe my deerest Lord) I wil omit, declaring only this I must speak of, belonging to my story. Once euery day hee brought mee to this pillar where you found me, and in the like manner bound me, then whipt me, after washing the stripes and blisters with salt water•• but this had been the last (had not you thus happily arriu'd); for he determined as he said, after my tormen∣ting had been past, in stead of washing me with the sea-water, to cast me into her, and so make a finall end of his tormenting, and of my torments. To this end he likewise went yesterday to the Towne, and bought this armour, ar∣ming himselfe, to the intent, that after his purpose was accomplisht, he might take his iourney which way best he pleased. Thus my Lords haue you heard the afflicted life of poore Limena, in whom these tortures wrought no other∣wise, then to strengthen her loue, and faith to withstand them: for could any other thought haue entred into my hart, that would haue been a greater af∣fliction to my soule, then the curst stroakes were to my body, subiect only to his vnnaturalnesse, but now by your royall hand redeemed from misery, to enioy the only blessing my heart can, or euer could aspire to wish, and here haue you now your faithfull Loue Limena. Perissus embraced her with that loue, his best loue could expresse, and then speaking to the Morean Prince, he said: The thanks most braue Prince, for this happinesse belongs vnto you, which is so much, as my life shall euer bee ingaged to pay the due vnto you; and my sword imployed to the best of my power to serue you, vowing, that when I (and the same I professe for my deerest here) proue vngratefull, wee will no more see light: nay let vs be as wretched as euer we were, if that sinne know vs. Parselius with much affection requited their protestations, making the like for himselfe in his loue to them; so for that night they went to rest. The next day taking their iourney to Naples, to prouide such things as were necessary for them; thence went they into Sicily, hauing a braue ship, which the Gouernor of that Towne (knowing Parselius) prouided for them; going himselfe, and many more braue Gentlemen, to conduct them ouer: whither being come, they found the Country in great trouble, the King being dead, and an Vsurper in his stead: but quickly were those stirres appeased by the presence ef Perissus, well helped by the Company which came out of Naples with him; but most, and indeed chiefly compassed by the valour of Parselius, who with his owne hands (in a battell which was fought betweene the vsur∣per, and an army that came to aide Perissus, as soone as his arriuall was pub∣lished) kild the false king and his two sons, being counted the valiantest men of all Sicily, and in stature were little lesse then Giants. This being finished, Perissus was crowned King, and soone after was the last promise perfor∣med in the marriage, which was solemnely, and with great state accom∣plished.

Then did Parselius take his leaue of the King and Queene, returning to Naples, and so to the Court of that King, where with all ioy and wel∣come hee was receiued, the triumphs and feastes making testimonie of it;

Yet was his sorrow such for Vrania, as all those sports were rather trouble∣some, then pleasing vnto him.

Some few daies after the triumphes began, the Squire of Amphilanthus found him there, to whom he deliuer'd his Message; with much ioy did the old King receiue the Squire, bringing him such ioyfull newes of his Sonnes being well, though much more welcome had he beene, if he could haue told any thing of his returne thither. Parselius demanded of the Squire how hee found him out; Why Sir, said hee, My Master going away from Morea, with Antissius, and that company, sent mee by Sea, to seeke you in this Countrey, by chance our Shipp sprung a leake, so as we were forced to put in againe to mend her: after we had beene a day at Sea, before she was throughly mended, came a braue Gentleman, called Ollorandus, younger Sonne to the King of Bohemia, who seeking my Lord, to whom he hath vow'd his Loue, and seruice, knowing mee to bee his ser∣uant enquired of me for him; I told him, where at that time he might find him. Hauing done this I tooke the boldnesse to aske him, if hee heard any newes of you, and withall the cause why I asked; he answered me that ha∣uing past Italie, in search of Amphilanthus, and hearing he was cast vpon Morea by Shipwrack, hee followed after him till hee came to the Court, which at that time was in Arcadia, there hee heard that he had beene there, but was againe gone into Italy to seeke you, and that hee would with you soone returne againe into that Countrey, to goe into Albania; wherfore he desiring to see something in those parts passed vp and downe, sometime to Morea, where in Elis he met with you, hauing (as hee merrily tolde me) passed a pretty aduenture, with a Lady and her Knights. From thence hee came to that part of the Kingdome, where I was put in by that chaunce, meaning there to ship once more for Italy: but I telling him of my ma∣sters iourney to Romania, he with all speed followed him, there to deserue his friendship by his seruice, and thus came I to be so fortunate to meet you. Then did Parselius acquaint the King with his entent, which was to follow Amphilanthus; so taking his leaue, he went with as much fortunate speede as might be to o••ertake his friend, promising the old King, to hasten his Sonnes comming, withall, letting him know the hope he had of Vrania's be∣ing his Daughter; which hope was as comfortable to him, almost, as if hee had already enioyd her.

Parselius in his iourney trauelled with great paine of mind, the like sufferd Pamphilia, who all this while continued her Loue, and life in Morea, who by loues force was, it seemed, transform'd into the same passion; her loue∣sicke Companion still accompanying her, till one morning, her deare (though vnquiet) affections calling her to attend them, made her see day sooner, then otherwise she had by many houres, and seeing it to make vse of her light: for though the sight which she desired, was hid from her, she might yet by the light of her imaginations (as in a picture) behold, and make those lights serue in his absence. Euen as the morning seemes for cleerenes, fairenes, and sweetnesse: so did she rising, that daintinesse wayting on her, that the greatest light could say, he excelled her, onely in heat, but not in brightnesse; and in some kind, he gain'd at that time aduantage on her, whom absence held in cold despaire. Quickly was she ready, and as soone left her

Chamber, going into the Gardens, passing out of one into another, finding that all places are alike to Loue, tedious. Then opened she a doore into a fine wood, delicately contriu'd into strange, and delightfull walkes; for al∣though they were fram'd by Art, neuerthelesse they were so curiously coun∣terfeited, as they appeard naturall. These pleased her onely to passe thorow into a little Groue, or rather, a pretty tuft of Ashes, being inuironed with such vnusuall variety of excellent pleasures, as had she had a heart to receiue delight from any thing but Loue, shee might haue taken pleasure in that place: for there was a purling, murmuring, sad Brooke, weeping away her sorrowes, desiring the bankes to ease her, euen with teares; but cruell, they would not so much as stay them to comfort, but let them slip away with as little care, as great ones doe the humble Petitions of poore suitors. Here was a fine groue of Bushes, their roots made rich with the sweetest flowres for smell, and colour. There a Plaine, here a Wood, fine hills to be∣hold, as placed, that her sight need not, for natural content, stray further then due bounds. At thei•• bottomes delicate Valleyes, adorn'd with seuerall de∣lightfull obiects. But what were all these to a louing heart? Alas, meer••ly occasions to increase sorrow, Loue being so cruell, as to turne pleasures in this nature, to the contrary course, making the knowledge of their delights, but serue to set forth the perfecter mourning, tryumphing in such glory, where his power rules, not onely ouer mindes, but on the best of mindes: and this felt the perplexed Pamphilia, who with a Booke in her hand, not that shee troubled it with reading, but for a colour of her solitarinesse, shee walked beholding these pleasures, till griefe brought this Issue. See∣ing this place delicate without, as shee was faire, and darke within as her sorrowes, shee went into the thickest part of it, being such, as if Phoe∣bus durst not there shew his face, for feare of offending the sadd Prin∣cesse; but a little glimmeringly, as desirous to see, and fearing to bee seene, stole heere, and there a little sight of that all-deseruing Lady, whose beames sometimes ambitiously touching her, did seeme as if he shin'd on purest gold, whose brightnesse did striue with him, and so did her excellen∣cie encounter his raies: The tops of the trees ioyning so close, as if in loue with each other, could not but affectionatly embrace. The ground in this place, where shee stayed was plaine, couered with greene grasse, which being low and thicke, looked as if of purpose it had beene couered with a greene Veluet Carpet, to entertaine this melancholy Lady, for her the softer to tread, loth to hurt her feet, lest that might make her leaue it; this care prou'd so happy, as heere shee tooke what delight it was pos∣sible for her to take in such kinde of pleasures: walking vp and downe a pretty space, blaming her fortune, but more accusing her loue, who had the heart to grieue her, while shee might more iustly haue chid her selfe, whose feare had forc'd her to too curious a secrecie: Cupid, in her, onely seeking to conquer, but not respecting his victory so farre, as to allow so much fauour, as to helpe the vanquished, or rather his power being onely able to extend to her yeelding, but not to master her spirit. Oft would shee blame his cruelty, but that againe shee would salue with his being ignorant of her paine: then iustly accuse her selfe, who in so long time, and many yeares could not make him discerne her affections,

(though not by words plainely spoken;) but soone was that thought recalled, and blamed with the greatest condemnation, acknowledging her losse in this kinde to proceed from vertue. Then shee considered, hee lou'd another, this put her beyond all patience, wishing her sudden end, cursing her dayes, fortune, and affection, which cast her vpon this rocke of mischiefe. Oft would shee wish her dead, or her beauty mari'd, but that she recall'd againe; louing so much, as yet in pitty shee would not wish what might trouble him, but rather continued according to her owne wish; complaining, fearing, and louing the most distressed, secret, and constant Louer that euer Venus, or her blind Sonne bestowed a wound or dart vpon.

In this estate shee stayed a while in the wood, gathering sometimes flowres which there grew; the names of which began with the letters of his name, and so placing them about her. Well Pamphilia, said she, for all these dis∣orderly passions, keepe still thy soule from thought of change, and if thou blame any thing, let it be absence, since his presence will giue thee againe thy fill of delight. And yet what torment will that proue, when I shall with him see his hopes, his ioyes, and content come from another? O Loue, O froward fortune, which of you two should I most curse? You are both cruell to me, but both alas are blinde, and therefore let me rather hate my selfe for this vnquietnesse; and yet vniustly shall I doe too in that, since how can I condemne my heart, for hauing vertu∣ously and worthily chosen? Which very choice shall satisfie mee with as much comfort, as I felt despaire. And now poore grasse, said shee, thou shalt suffer for my paine, my loue-smarting body thus pressing thee.

Then laid shee her excelling selfe vpon that (then most blessed ground) and in compassion giue mee some rest, said shee, on you, which well you may doe being honor'd with the weight of the loyallest, but most afflicted Princesse that euer this Kingdome knew: Ioy in this and flourish still, in hope to beare this vertuous affliction. O Morea, a place accoun∣ted full of Loue, why is Loue in thee thus terribly oppressed, and cru∣elly rewarded? Am I the first vnfortunate Woman that bashfulnesse hath vndone? If so, I suffer for a vertue, yet gentle pitty were a sweeter lot. Sweet Land, and thou more sweet Loue, pardon me, heare me, and commiserate my woe, Then hastily rising from her low greene bed; nay, said shee, since I finde no redresse, I will make others in part taste my paine, and make them dumbe partakers of my griefe; then taking a knife, shee finished a Sonnet, which at other times shee had begunne to ingraue in the barke of one of those fayre and straight Ashes, cau∣sing that sapp to accompany her teares for loue, that for vnkindnesse.

BEare part with me most straight and pleasant Tree, And imitate the Torments of my smart Which cruell Loue doth send into my heart, Keepe in thy skin this testament of me:

Which Loue ingrauen hath with miserie, Cutting with griefe the vnresisting part, Which would with pleasure soone haue learnd loues art, But wounds still curelesse, must my rulers bee.

Thy sap doth weepingly bewray thy paine, My heart-blood drops with stormes it doth sustaine, Loue sencelesse, neither good nor mercy knowes Pitiles I doe wound thee, while that I Vnpitied, and vnthought on, wounded crie: Then out-liue me, and testifie my woes.

And on the rootes, whereon she had laid her head, seruing (though hard) for a pillow at that time, to vphold the richest World of wisdome in her sex, she writ this.

MY thoughts thou hast supported without rest, My tyred body here hath laine opprest With loue, and feare: yet be thou cuer blest; Spring, prosper, last; I am alone vnblest.

Hauing ended it, againe laying her sad perfections on the grasse, to see if then some rest would haue fauourd her, and haue thought trauel had enough disturbed her, she presently found, passion had not yet allowed time for her quiet, wherefore rising, and giuing as kind a farwell-looke to the tree, as one would doe to a trusty friend, she went to the brooke, vpon the banke where∣of were some fine shadie trees, and choice thorne bushes, which might as they were mixt, obtaine the name of a prety Groue, whereinto she went, and sitting downe vnder a Willow, there anew began her complaints; pulling off those branches, sometimes putting them on her head: but remembring her selfe, she quickly threw them off, vowing how euer her chance was, not to carry the tokens of her losse openly on her browes, but rather weare them priuately in her heart. Further would she haue proceeded, but that she heard behind her a rushing in the bushes. Looking backe, shee perceiu'd Antissia close by her; who hauing noted the sadnesse in the Princesse, and her solita∣ry retirednesse, imagined (by her owne passions) the cause must needs bee loue: but that imagination growing to beliefe, beliefe brought feare, feare doubt, and doubt the restlesse affliction, suspition; her excellencies making the assurednes of her no lesse excellent choice, so as the more perfect she con∣fest them both to be, the more did those perfections make her perfectly iea∣lous. This was the reason that shee came thus forth, and in as priuate sort as she could, that so she might by chance ouer-heare her secret complaints, and so (though for a certaine vexation) bee sure of her most troubled know∣ledge.

But herein she was deceiued: for although she heard much of her sorow, yet got she no assurance for whom the sorrow was, neuer in all her extremest suf∣ferings, once naming the mouer of her paine, which kept her loue in as much secresie, as that, secretly after brought tormenting paine, proceeding from vn∣happy

ignorance. But Pamphilia perceiuing her, smiling, yet blushing, doub∣ting her passions were discouered, and her loue betray'd to her Companion; she neuerthelesse to make the best of it; How came you hither faire Antissia (said she)? I did not thinke this sad place, could haue inuited so much hap∣pinesse to it, as your presence; who being happy, must make all places par∣take with you?

This place (said shee) hath her blessing already in you, the saddest being forc'd to deserued ioy, enioying so good fortune, as to haue Pamphilia in it. But I pray, if I may be so bold to aske such a question of you (which the con∣fidence of a friend makes me venture vpon) why are all these grieuous com∣plaints? for neuer heard I greater, neither was sorrow euer richlier appar∣reld, then lately you haue drest her: If it be for loue; tell me who that blessed creature is, that doth possesse such a world of treasure as your heart? and de∣ny not this to your friend, and seruant, who will faithfully serue you in that, or any other you will impose vpon her, though sure in this little paine, will serue to win your ease, if you will suffer your selfe to haue ease; no man breathing that will bee so void of iudgement, or can haue power to re∣sist, what you in loue might demaund, but must bee so farre from deny∣ing, as hee will without question venture his life, to gaine so pretious a prize.

Your owne worth (said Pamphili••) makes you thus confident, and your happie fortune, in meeting an an••••erable affection, thus feareles: but alas for me, I that know worth (greatnes, nor the truest loue can bring ones desire, if destinie haue otherwise appointed) can neuer let so much flattring hope blind me with conceit of mine owne deserts (which it may be are seene but by my owne eyes), as to imagine their merits may gaine my ends. No sweet Antissia, loue is onely to be gaind by loue equally bestowed, the giuer, and re∣ceiuer reciprocally liberall, else it is no loue; nor can this be, but where affe∣ctions meete; and that we must not all expect, nor can it reasonably bee de∣manded. Since how should the power of loue be knowne, but by his seuerall vsage of his subiects? If all were vs'd alike, his iustice must be examined•• but be it as it will, some must and do suffer; yet speake I not this of my self, or in con∣fession that I am pinch'd with these tortures, for Lord knowes, how farre am I from these like vanities, then how can I satisfie your louing demand, and friendly promise? You cannot thus dissemble (replied Antissia), your owne hand in yonder faire Ash will witnes against you. Not so (said Pamphilia) for many Poets write aswell by imitation, as by sence of passion; therefore this is no proofe against me. It is well said (answerd Antissia) in your owne defence: but I pray, why did you but euen now with sighes and teares (as I iudged by your voyce) blame both loue, and absence? Many reasons there are to accuse both (said Pamphilia): but let mee bee so much bound to you, as to know the reason of your inquisitiuenes? If it were only for my good, mee thinks you grow too neere me; bare friendship not being able so cunningly to sift one, therefore it makes me thinke some other cause moues this care in you; if so, freely speake it, and I will as freely satisfie you. Well (said Antissia) then confesse you loue, and I will soone follow with the other. It were to small purpose (replide Pamphilia) to deny it, since you haue discouered mee; I confesse it, and am no whit ashamed of it, though grieued by it. My

curiositie (said the other) was, and is, lest it should bee hee whom I affect.

Alas (cride Pamphilia), can so base an humour as suspition creepe into so braue a heart as Antissia's? and to gaine such power there, as to make her mistrust her friend? Truly I am sorry for it; and would aduise you for ho∣nours sake, quickly to banish that Deuill from you, which otherwise will dai∣ly increase new mischiefes. I know (said Antissia) it is the worst of Mon∣sters: yet this is no answere to my question.

Tis true (said Pamphilia): but •• being innocent of it, forgot first to cleere it. But I pray Antissia, what doe you see in mee, that I should loue Amphilanthus more, then respectiuely?

This (said she) that all perfections hauing ioynd, and vnited their strengths to make you wholly excellent, it cannot bee, but you in all things must ma∣nifest it, and in iudgement are you not cald to expresse it? And if in iudge∣ment, wherein can there be more discern'd, then in the choice of friend or Loue? If so, can you chuse other, then the most deseruing? and then, must it not bee the most excellent of men? and is not Amphilanthus that most excelling Prince?

In truth (answered Pamphilia) I confesse this latter part to be true: for as∣suredly there liues not his equall for all vertues, which well might make me (if I were such a one as you say) to haue that ambition in mee, to affect the worthiest; but so much perfection I wa••••, as that part hath faild also in me: yet this I will say, I loue him as hee merits, long conuersation as from our youthes; besides, our bloud claiming an extraordinary respect.

You will not deny you are in loue with him then? Why should I not (said shee)? I'm sure I know my owne heart best: and truly so farre is it from suffring in this passion, as it grieues mee you mistake mee so much. but Lord what strange and dangerous thoughts doth this bring into our brests? Could any but a Louer haue so troublesome a conceite? Why sweet Antissia when did this opinion first possesse you? or what gaue you occasion to con∣ceiue it? Hath my speech at any time betray'd mee? Hath my fashion giuen you cause to suspect it? Did I euer enuiously like a Louer, seeke to hinder your enioying him? Did I vnmannerly presse into your com∣panies? Some of this surely I must haue done, or you vniustly accuse me.

None of these could you faile in (cride shee); so great a wit, and match∣lesse a spirit would gouerne themselues better, then to offend in such fond parts: but the reason I haue already giuen, being equall excellencies; and the beliefe proceeds from this, that mee thought you did with as feeling an affection accompany my sorrow when he went away, and more neerely I imagined by your fashion it toucht you, then pity of my griefe could haue procured. Then I considered my eyes had been so fortunate, as to looke vp∣on the best, why then should not the best of our sex also looke on the rarest obiect; and looking so, must not the same conclusion be, that beholding as I did, loue must come in and conquer; as on me, so then looking with my eyes, of force you must loue him.

What a progr••sse (said Pamphilia) hath your troubled imagination made to find a poore cause, to forge a poorer vexation? If all these things were true,

and that I lou'd Amphilanthus, what then? were it any more then my extremest torment, when I should see his affections otherwise placed? the impossibility of winning him from a worthy loue, the vnblessed destiny of my poore vnblessed life, to fa••l into such a misery; the continuall aff••ictions of b••rning loue, the fier of iust rage against my owne eies, the hatred of my brest for letting in so destroying a guest, that ruines where he comes; these were all, and these alone touching me in all disquiets. Wha•• need should they haue to molest you, since so perfectly you are assur'd of his loue, as you need feare no occasion, nor any body to wrong you in that, wherein he will not wrong his worthy choice and constancy? What harme then could it be to you, if you should loue him? The losse of my content; since that your loue (said Antissia) must not be refus'd, but sought; and if obtaind, wo be to any other that aspires to that place; better neuer to be borne, then know the birth of so much folly, as to aduenture to be a riuall with the rarest Princesse Pamphilia; therefore knowing this harme, I had rather you did not loue him. Well, then be satisfied (said the sweet, but sad Pamphilia), my loue to him proc••eds from his neuer enough praised merits, but not for loue otherwise, then I haue al∣ready exprest.

A••tissia was with this answer thorowly satisfied, taking the Princesse in her armes, protesting her life too little, to pay for requitall for this royall free∣dome she had found in her, and the•• fauour receiued from her; expressing then her loue in the best manner she could, plainely making confession of all to her; concluding, that had not her incomparable vertue bound her best re∣spects to her, yet the resemblance which shee had in her face of that famous Prince, and her onely beloued, would haue forced her to loue her. The deli∣cate Lady told her, shee could not better please her, then in telling her she did resemble him, since then she was sure she was like to true vertue; for he was of that the onely body: but this loue, and his dependances doe so vex vs, as they take away all other societie; to amend which, let vs returne to the Court (said she). I am contented, said Antissia. So rising, and holding each other by the arme, with as much loue, as loue in them could ••oyne, they tooke their way backe towards the Palace; but in the great Garden they met the King and Queene; so they attended backe on them into the Hall, whither they were no sooner come, and setled in their places, but they were entertained with this aduenture: Tenne Knights comming in russet Armours, their Bea••ers vp, their Swords in their hands; who comming more then halfe way to the State, making low reuerence, stood still, parting themselues to either side of the Cham∣ber, to let the followers better be discerned. Then came tenne more, but in blacke Armours, chain'd together, without Helmets or Swords. After them came sixe armed like the first, three carrying Speares of in∣finite bignesse; one, the Sheild, and the other two the Sword and Hel∣met of a Knight, who for countenance seem'd no louer; his colour like a Moore; his fashion rude and proud, following after these sixe, who, as the first, diuided themselues.

Then came this man to the State, leading by the hand as sweete a Ladie, as hee was vgly; shee as milde in countenance, as hee insolent; shee as fearefull, as hee bold: on the other hand of her, another Knig•••• sad,

but it seem'd amorous. The King and all the Court beholding, and expect∣ing the issue of this busines, when the stout man in a hollow and hoarse voice deliuered these words.

King of Morea, I am Lansaritano, whose fame I doubt not, hath spread it selfe to your eares: Lord I am of the Ilands of Cerigo, Dragonero, and other lesser circkling my chiefe Iland, as subiects to my greatnes. This Lady you see here, is my vassall by birth, but by my choice honour'd with my loue, which she foolishly refuseth, iudgement so farre failing her, as not to be able to discerne the happinesse, and vnspeakable good, blind Fortune hath giuen her, in letting my high & noble thoughts abase themselues so low, as to looke on her my creature, and fauour her with my liking. She whom I might com∣mand, I haue bin contented to woe; she who shuld obay, ignorantly refuseth: yet •• (Master of worth) will not force her, but haue compell'd my selfe to consent to satisfie a fond request she hath made to me, which is, to come into this Court with her, and this knight my Cosen whom she loues, and is the barre from my enioying her: and here if she can find a Knight, who for her sake will enter into this quarrel (which she calls, The de••ence of true Loue) he must obserue this, to giue her to one of vs, and fight with the other: if it happen he chuse him (as well it may be he wil defend Ladies, he will dispose of her to her beloued), he must combate me: if he ouercome, shee shall bee free; else yeelded to me: which I make no question of, since I neuer yet knew any had the fortune, how stout, valiant, or hardy, could hold out with me. These bound men are Knights, and her Brothers two of them, the rest her friends and kindred, who vpon her vaine complaint, fearing violence would haue been by me iustly vs'd vpon her, made an insurrection, which soone I appeased, and for the loue of her would not yet put them to death, but haue brought them with mee likewise on this condition; that when I haue fought and vanquisht that bold and fond man whosoeuer, that will ad∣uenture to combate with me, I shall strike off all their heads. This Sir is the cause of my comming, wherefore I desire leaue of you that shee may haue one, if any Knight will vndertake it, or dare maintaine her cause, which shee accounts so faire and good.

The King was sorry for the Ladies sake, his Court was so vnprouided of those braue Knights which were wont to honour it, especially that his fa∣mous Nephew, and braue Sonnes were all absent, who he knew would de∣fend a Ladies cause, especially a louing Lady, as she seem'd; wherefore hee made this answere. Lansaritano, I am troubled, so braue a man should fight in so ill a matter, since if I were as you, shee that would not by my worth bee wonne, should not be thought worthy to be gaind by the hazard of my self, into which you must run, if you encounter Knights of my Court; for sure∣ly no braue man will giue her from her owne affection: but now indeede is your fortune good, in comming when the Worthies of our parts are absent; yet doubt I not but I haue still some here, who honour Ladies so much, as they will venter to deliuer them from force in loue; therfore I giue yo•• free liberty to pronounce your challenge.

I am sorry (said he) that all your Worthies be not here, that I might for my glory ouercome them one after another; but since they are absent, any one here take her part that will, or giue her to mee, if none will aduenture

combate, otherwise I am ready to meete him with the Launce three cour∣ses, and then end the Combat with the sword; if no one dare vndertake it•• you must sweete Lady bee mine for want of a knight for your Champion•• Shee lookt sadly, and wept so loue-likely, as all pittied her, but none offe∣red their seruice, the valour being knowne, and the strength much feared of La••saritano; till Selarinus disdaining such a man should haue, though so little, a cause to adde more fuell to the fire of his pride, stept forth and said: Most mighty King, may it please you to honour mee so much, as to permit mee the libertie of this aduenture, wherein I doubt not, but to doe iust∣ly, and to lay Lansaritano's pride as low, as the ea••••h will suffer his body to lie vpon it.

The king glad to see the fine young Prince so forward, but loth to ven∣ture him in so dangerous a businesse, told him, That the true noblenesse and bounty of the kings of Albania his Predecessours did againe liue in him, to maintaine which, hee was very willing to grant his request, but his tender yeares made him loth to aduenture him alone. Then Sir (said hee) should I both shame my selfe, and the braue Princes before by you mentioned: but as I am alone left here of my bloud, I will alone aduen∣ture. Then hee asked the Lady if shee would accept him, and stand to his censure? Shee answered; Most willingly shee would. Hee then gaue her to her beloued, saying; Prepare your selfe, and know Lansaritano, that you shall finde enough to doe, when you encounter Iustice and reso∣lution, which are the two I take with mee in this Combate against you.

The furie of the vaine man was such, to see so young a man answer him, as hee could scarce giue one word againe; but at last his breath smoked out these words. Alas, poore Boy, I pitie thee; wherefore pray thee be ad∣uised, and hereafter when thou hast a Beard come, and it may be I will grace thee, with fighting with thee; vnlesse thou dost hope I should haue some pi∣ty on thy faire face, and so forbeare to hurt thee in the fight. 〈◊〉〈◊〉 ••ince you haue no brauer Knights, Great King of Morea, farewell, I will returne: and now faire Lady, what thinke you of your seruant my selfe? will you loue me, or let this smug Youth be your Champion?

The king was infinitely offended with the proud speech of Lansaritano, the like was all the company; yet none aduentured to answer but braue Selarinus himselfe, who againe couragiouslie, yet mildlie told him; That hee neede not learne, to know words were not the weapons to bee vsed in fight, therefore hee would answere him no further in that kinde, but hee should giue him satisfaction with his Sword and Speare for the Ladies sake, before his parting thence, whether hee would, or no; and then haue occasion to speake better of him, if hee left him to speake at all.

The King embraced the young Prince, and straight sending for an Armour, which was the first that euer Amphilanthus had worne, ha∣uing left it there, taking another which was brought him from Italy, after his first Victorie of fame, which was there performed against two Knights, in the defence of an iniured Ladie; this hee put on, which was all White, saue iust against the Heart hee had the

figure of a heart wounded curiously made, and so artificially, as one would haue thought his heart had been seene to bleed through the Armour: with these Armes Selarinus was arm'd, the King girting the sword to him, and kis∣sing him, wisht as good fortune to him, as the first Lord of those Armes had, and to prooue as worthy to weare them. Hee on his knee humbly gaue him thankes; then turning to the Lady, will'd her to take her loued Seruant, if shee accepted him for her Knight. Shee ioyfully beholding him, and smi∣ling on her loue, who equally exprest his ioy, followed him, who now appea∣red a young Mars; yet was her ioy mixt with feare, of falling againe into his hands; till which time shee, and this she told him, esteem'd her selfe the ••ap∣piest woman breathing, in such a Defendant.

Then went they into the Lists, the King and all the Court taking places fit to behold the fight, Lansaritano cursing his destinie that brought him the dis∣honour to meete a childe (as he tearm'd him, though after hee proued o∣therwise vnto him) in the field. Lansaritano was conducted into the field by his owne knights in the same manner, as they enter'd the hall. The Lady who was cald Nallinia, and her late distressed, but now reuiued associats were plac'd in a seate by themselues, to see, and to bee seene as the prizes of the combate.

Then came Selarinus into the field, attended on by the Marshall, Master of the Horse, and the chiefe officers of the kingdome of Morea, the Mar∣shall being a graue old man, but in his youth one of the best knights of that Countrie, gaue him his first Speare. The King of Pamphilia (bro∣ther to the King, who was newly come thither to visit him, but princi∣pally his Neece, who by his gift was to enioy that kingdome after his decease, and therefore bore that name likewise giuen by him) was one of the Iudges, the Prince of Elis the other for Selarinus; and these two did Lansaritano accept also for him, doubting no wrong in so iust a kings Court.

They ••••••uely encountred, running the two first courses without any aduantage; the third, Selarinus receiued so strong a Counter-buffe on his breast, as beate him backe vpon his saddle, being a pretie while be∣fore hee recouered againe: but Lansaritano hauing more strength, but as great a blow, shewed no mouing in himselfe, though the blow was so forcible, as the girts brake, and hee came ouer his horse, by the slip∣ping o•• his saddle. Selarinus looking back, saw him on foote, which com∣forted him much, fearing that hee had, till then, receiued the worst: but being satisfied, with new courage hee leapt from his Horse, scorning any aduantage, and drawing his sword, went towards his enemy, who met him pufft vp with as much furie, as a ship runs vpon a rock withall, and alike did he prosper.

A long time did this combat endure, Lansaritano so brauely and vali∣antly behauing himselfe (as how could he doe other, fighting before his La∣dy, to win his Lady, as it won vnexpected fame to the braue Albanian, who still continued with the better: for though Lansaritano as valiant as most, and as strong as any, yet had his enemy this aduantage ouer him, that in valour hee equal'd him; and what in strength hee faild of, in nim∣blenesse and cunning hee exceld him, which brought him the victory with

the others death, being giuen by a thrust in the face, his Beauer by chance flying vp, the pin being cut in the last blow before. Then were the Knights and the Lady set at libertie by the brother of Lansaritano, who was one of those, and the same that carried his Helmet. He now being to succeede his brother in his commands, tooke his leaue of the King and the Court. The Lady had euer affected this Knight, and was married before her parting to him, giuen in marriage by the Brother, who was called Sarimatto; they re∣turnd, and shee liued after with much content with her husband, who was no way like his Cosin, though big, and strong, and as valiant, but milde, curteous, and honest; prouing a true friend and seruant to the Court of Morea.

With infinite ioy the Prince was conducted to the Palace, there entertaind by the King and Ladies, who all ioynd in honoring him, who had so much honourd the sex, letting his first aduenture bee in the defence of a woman; then carried him to his chamber, where his wounds were drest, which were many, but none dangerous; yet had the losse of much bloud made him fain∣ter then hee was. This was his first aduentrous tryall of Armes, and accor∣dingly did he proceede brauely and happily.

But now to Leandrus, who was left in his way to Achaia, to get forces to assist the Princes. Long he rid not without an aduenture, those places affor∣ding many, and pleasant ones, yet was his scarce one of that number: for after he had left the court, he took his directest way to that part, which was neerest for him to passe thence into Achaia; as he went thinking of his friends, but most of his loue, his heart hauing receiu'd a cureles wound by the neuer fay∣ling commanding eyes of Pamphilia, sometimes purposing to ask her in mar∣riage, another time hoping first by his desert to win her loue, then promising himselfe the furtherance of Parselius, the labour of Rosindy, the fauour of Am∣philanthus, the earnestnesse of his owne affection, and louer-like importunity; these hee resolu'd should woe for him, and thus hee meant to haue her: yet wanted hee her consent, the better part of the gaining, and the harder to bee gaind: yet these conceits pleased him, as mad folks delight in their owne odde thoughts: and so was this little lesse then madnesse, had hee had sense to haue considered her worthie selfe not to bee giuen, but to her owne wor∣thie choice, and by it. But thus hee satisfied himselfe, till wanting this hap∣pinesse of selfe-fram'd delight also, hee fell into such despaire, as proued farre worse then many hells vnto him.

As hee past (yet in his pleasure) along a way, which diuided it selfe (neere a delicate fountaine) into three parts, hee sat downe on the side of that Fountaine, drinking first of the Spring, and then taking out a paper wherein hee had written some sad verses, hee read them to himselfe; they were these.

DRowne me not you cruell teares, Which in sorrow witnes beares Of my wailing, And Loues failing.

Flouds but couer, and retire Washing faces of desire Whose fresh growing Springs by flowing.

Meadowes euer yet did loue Pleasant streames which by them moue: But your falling Claimes the calling

Of a torrent curstly fierce Past wits power to rehearse; Only crying, Or my dying May in stead of verse or prose My disasterous end disclose.

When hee had read them, and was putting them vp againe, hauing first kist them, because they should goe to his Mistris, hee heard the wayling of a man, and looking vp, saw a Knight (as hee seem'd to bee) lie by the side of the Fountaine on the other part from him, and besides, heard him vse these speeches. I wonder when time will permit mee ease, and sorrow giue conclusion to my dayes, or to it selfe; if not wearied, yet for pities sake, tormenting mee, the most afflicted soule breathing; miserable Clarimatto, accursed aboue all men, and abus'd beyond all men, and more dishonour'd then any creature, and by whom, but by the most esteemed creature, a wo∣man, and a faire woman; but the cage of a foule mind, and the keeper of a corrupt soule, and a false heart, else would she not, nor could she haue giuen herselfe (once mine) to any other. She was mine by vow, by solemne pro∣session, but now an others: fickle sex, vnsteady creatures, worse I will not call you, because indeed I loue her, though abus'd by her, and sham'd in her. Le∣andrus went to him, and kindly offerd his seruice, if he needed it. Hee casting vp his weeping eyes, in teares thankt him, but said; One man was enough to suffer in so slight a cause, and so vndeseruing a creature. He desired to know the matter. He answerd, he had lou'd a Lady, she had done the like to him, or made him thinke so: but hauing what shee would, she had changed, and not only so, but giuen her selfe to his enemy, being first betrothed vnto him, and in that time he was prouiding for the marriage, married the other; and this is the cause of my torment; hither I am come to reuenge my selfe of him, and in him of her, if shee loue him still. They are in a strong Castle of his, where they merrily liue, while I am miserably vexed with tortures, and dishonour, the worst of torments. What was the originall cause of his ma∣lice?

Truly Sir, this cruelty hee vseth but to mee, as belonging to my destiny. Neglected I haue been of my friends for bearing this disgrace from mine e∣nemy, and the hater of all my Countrie, the reason of his hatred to vs pro∣ceeding from this. The King of Morea in his youth was a braue man at Armes, and followed, and finished many aduentures, by chance at a great

Iust held in Achaia for ioy of the birth of the Kings son, cald Leandrus, as af∣ter I heard he was, and proou'd a Prince worthily deseruing the ioy, then shewed for receiuing of him. This Lords father was likewise there, and en∣countring the King was by him throwne to the ground, which disgrace hee took so heauily, as he would haue reuenged it with his sword, but that being forbidden (the end of those triumphes, reaching no further then sport) discontented, and burning in rage, hee went thence, watching when the King returnd in his iourney, in this very place he set vpon him troopes of his comming all these seuerall waies, and at once charging him, who onely for his pleasure had sent his greatest company before him, following with two Knights and their Squires; but in this conflict the King got so much of the victorie, as hee slew his Enemie with his owne hands, but could not keepe himselfe from being taken prisoner, and carried al∣most to the Castle; whither if hee had gone, without doubt hee had thence neuer returnd.

But the Squires seeing his distresse, and the death of the other two, their Masters, ran euerie one a seuerall way, till they got a good number of the traine together, who with all speed, and fury pursued them, ouer∣taking them hard by the Castle, and taking their Lord from them, most being kill'd, some few got into the hold, where relating their vnlucky ad∣uenture, the wife of the slaine Lord, and Mother to this Lord (hauing as great a spirit as any woman breathing) made a vow to bee reuenged of all the Court of Morea, of the King and his posterity especially. And this she hath hitherto performed with great cruelty, her sonne hauing beene nursed in this hatred doth likewise continue it with more violence, as his spirit is so much greater, as commonly a mans is, in respect of a wo∣mans: and this is the cause why hee hateth all the Moreans, of which coun∣trey I am, borne in Corinth, my heart truely scorning him for his other in∣iury done mee, am inuited hither for these two reasons, to bee reuenged on him.

Leandrus thank'd him for his discourse, but told him hee had by it made him long, to try if hee could bee made a Prisoner also for so iust a cause, or deliuer those so vniustly inclosed, and the rather said hee to serue one so much iniuried as your selfe, whose quarrell lay on mee, and doe you defend the honor of your King and Country, shee not being worth fighting for.

Hee answered that was true, yet his honor hee esteemd worth cleering, and that calld vpon him.

While they were thus discoursing, the Lord and the false Lady came lo∣uingly hand in hand together downe one of the paths, shee smiling in his eyes and want only courting him, seeking to giue him occasion of mirth, but hee went on like a man to whom ill was succeeding, hee had some seruants with him arm'd, and his owne armour was likewise carried by him, if hee should haue any occasion suddenly to vse it: hee was of a cleere and pleasing complexion, a person amiable and lou••ly, curld hayre, fayre eyes, and so iudiciall a countenance, as might haue made the worthiest woman like him, and so well hee deseru'd as it was pitty hee fell into her hands, who vndid both his minde, and bodie, making him as wicked as

her selfe which was the worst of her sex. He looked vpon her with loue; but his speech was sparing, either that naturally he had not store of words, or his inward heauinesse at that time made him silent. When he came neere the fountaine, Clarimatto approched to him; My Lord, said he, I am sure you know the cause of my comming into these parts, if not, examine your heart, and that will tell you the iniuries you haue don•• me, or if that be so impure, or partiall, as it will not, for offending, bee true to so false a ma∣ster, behold this creature by you, your shame, and mine, and in her fore∣head the faire field of our disgrace, you shall see it written in spots of in∣famy and wrong.

The Lord knew his face, and with it the offence, therefore answered him thus. Sir, said he, if on these conditions, I acknowledge the vnder∣standing of your rage, I should make my selfe guilty of what I am free from; to my knowledge I neuer wronged any, if vnwillingly, I made a∣mends, and am ready so to doe. Can you giue mee my honour againe, throwne to the ground by you, and your in••atiable Loue, cride he? You wrong vs both, said he, and this shall be the Ground of my reuenge and an∣swer to you; with that he arm'd himselfe, shee crying to him, not to ad∣uenture his deare selfe against that stranger, whom she knew full well; shee kneeled to him, held him by the leggs, kissed them, gazed on him, in termes call'd him dearest. All would not serue, he encountred his enemy, and truly was he iustly made so by his owne ill deseruing. They fought, like two, one hauing got, and earnest to keepe a Mistris, the other hauing lost, and reuengfull to gaine his honour, and kill his Riuall, and Vndoer in his Loue; at last, the true cause got the vpper hand, and the Lord came to the lower side of Victory; which the seruants perceiuing, rushed all vpon Clarimatto. Leandrus finding the wrong they offer'd, and the other was like to suffer, stepp'd in to his rescue. A fight was among these performed fit, and onely the prize of Loue fit to be the end of it. Clarimatto nimble, valiant, and hauing Iustice on his side, fought accordingly, and so as the Lord hauing lost much bloud out of two wounds giuen him by his foe, nor had he escaped free, but was hurt in some places, the Lord then gaue back a little, his men cirkling Clarimatto about like busie Bees when anger'd, vsing their best (or better to say, more malicious) meanes to hurt him, who protected by a braue spirit, and vndaunted courage layd about him with∣out feare, but not without such hurt to them, assisted brauely by Leandrus, as they began to flee. Their Master seeing that re••il'd them, vowing to hang who euer saued himselfe by base flight, and kill those that fought not bet∣ter, though he by that meanes let the hatefull enemy passe. This vrged them againe to perplexe them, but could not now compasse him, hee hauing to preuent that danger, got the Fountaine at his backe, there defending him∣selfe; but alas much like a Stagge at Bay, that must for all his courage, yeeld to the multitude and force of many Doggs: and so was he like to doe, (Leandrus hauing a new supply set on him) for hauing receiu'd a wound in the thigh, he bled, so fast as almost his powers faild him, his eyes beginning with faintnesse to dazle, and his strength so fast to decrease, as he leand himselfe against the Fountaine, holding his Sword straight out, meaning he that first seazed him should also meet his owne end; and with

this resolution stood the braue reuengefull Louer, his soule bidding his friends and all farewell: Leandrus being but in a little better case, when as an vnexpected good hap befell them by the comming of a Knight in blacke Armour, who seeing this cruell fight, and vnmanly comba••ing of many a∣gainst two, came happily and speedily to their succour, euen when one had done his last for that time to defend himselfe, which the Lord perceiuing, pressed in vpon Clarimatto, although almost as weake as hee with losse of bloud (spite procuring that, lest he might else want his will in hauing his end some way) so as both valiant, both strong, were now without ability to shew valour, if not in dying with their Swords in their hands, and without strength hauing no more then hatred at that time, allowed to both in those weake limbes, which was no more, then insteed of running one at the other, they reeld and fell one vpon the other, in the fall, the Sword of Clarimatto finding a way into an vnarmed part of his Riuals body, which a blow at the first en∣counter had left open, but till then well guarded by the skill and courage of his Master, whose Sword missed him, who else with that had with him taken a graue, both agreeing (by disagreeing) to death. The new-come Knight made a quicke dispatch of the rest, some by death, some by yeel∣ding. Leandrus, though weake, going with much care to Clarimatto, and who had in all the fight behaued himselfe so worthily not fearing any thing but continuance of disgrace, and freeing all in true worth, and loue to truth.

The businesse ended, the stranger and Leandrus tooke vp the wounded Clarimatto, and hauing, with vntying his Helme, giuen him some ayre, hee came a little to himselfe, but so besmeer'd with bloud as at first hee was not knowne to the Knight, whose Helme was likewise off; but when discouer'd, O Clarimatto, said he, happy I am to helpe thee, but vnhappy to finde thee thus, my dearest friend, What destiny brought thee hither? What happi∣nesse in vnhappinesse met, to make me meet thee thus? Accursed, yet now blest occasion, if thou outliue this victory. If I had conquered, said hee, death yet might haue honour'd me, but to liue vanquished, rather wish I to dye. Thou hast braue Clarimatto, said hee, ouercome, and slaine thine Enemy with thine owne hands. Then am I contented, said hee, though ••traight I die, and most that I shall yet end in your armes, whom of all men I most loue, none but your selfe could haue had the destiny to helpe me, who onely was, aud is best beloued of me, and herein hath Destiny bles∣sed me.

Then came the Lady, who with as much contempt of them, as sorrow for her louer, looked vpon them both, the one dead, the other dying, she said nothing, but kneeled downe by her latter loued friend, and kissed him, rose againe, and looked with infinite hate vpon Clarimatto, and then taking a knife she held vnder her Gowne, stabb'd her selfe, falling betweene them both.

The blacke Knight went to the Castle whither Clarimatto was carried, and soone after died; the bodies of the others were buried in the place where the fight was, the keyes were deliuered to the blacke Knight, who deliuered many braue and valiant Knights, caught by ••reason, and vnfortu∣nate spite, and all Greeks. Then was Leandrus brought into a rich Cham∣ber,

and the blacke Knight, who had taken poss••ssion of that Castle, for the King of Morea, bestowed the keeping of it on Clorimundus his Esquire. With many teares and sighes Clarimatto was buried, who was extreamly be∣loued of this blacke Knight, which was Rosindy, with whom hee had beene bred, and nursed.

This being done, and Leandrus, past danger, though not for weakenesse able to remoue, Rosindie left him in the custody of the new Gouernour, and other Knights, who loued him so well, as there was a question, which they more affected their deliuering ioy, and happy inioying, or his safety who had beene the first cause to bring them the other; herein their worths ap∣peared, and in better hands Leandrus cannot be left, till his ability call him againe to seruice in other parts. But now Rosindy, must be a little accompani∣ed, who taking on his iourney, still resolu'd to performe the command of his Mistris, which was to passe all Greece, and accomplish such aduentures as might make him worthy of her loue, and yet not to discouer the ende of his trauell, or himselfe, to any without ex••raordinary occasion. To ob∣serue this, he put on those blacke Armes, bearing no Deuice in his Shield, because his desire was onely to be called the vnknowne Knight; the cause why she had thus commanded him was, that the more his honor was known, the more he might be feared when time might serue for him to deliuer her from her Prison, and bondage wherein she liued, from whence as yet shee could not be released.

Thus vuknowne he passed among his best friends, and meaning so to con∣tinue he passed from this place to his Fathers Court, there to see what ad∣uenture would happen to adde to his fame; besides, to know the certaine time of the pretended Iourney for Albania, but especially when they ap∣pointed to free Meriana the chiefe end indeed of his iourney. So he came to the Court, and sending one Squire of his, who well knew all the parts of it, came to Pamphilia's Chamber, who hearing who it was that desired to speake with her, shee straight sent for him, from whom shee learned that her dearely beloued Brother was hard by, but resoluing not to be knowne, had intreated her to come into the pleasant Groue there to conferre with him, which she with much willingnesse, and desire performed. Now this Squire was not knowne of many, besides Pamphilia, nor any whit of Antissia, whose iealousie infinitely vpon this increased, and the more meanes were sought to alter it, the greater did the heate grow; like a Smith that puts wa∣ter into his Forge, to make the fire more violently hot. The sweet (but sad) Princesse not mistrusting this, went (as appointed) into the Groue, the suspi∣tious Lady, whose heart now lay in her eies to discouer her, soone and secr••t∣ly followed her, where she discern'd (being in the Euening) a knight so like in proportion to hers, or so had the power of doubt made him, as shee euer belieued it to be himselfe: but when she saw their affectionate imbracements, then was her heart like to breake, not being able to sustaine, but for feare of discouering, as softly, but lesse quietly, being confident, her confidence in his loue, which had before but flattered her to his own ends, and not for loue, had beene a bayt to draw on her destruction. With this dolorous opinion shee retired into her Chamber, where she fell into the most grieuous com∣plaints that euer poore afflicted suspitious Lady had endured.

The Princes continuing in the Wood, with all loue and kindnesse the black Knight beginning his discourse. My best, and onely deare Sister know, that after my departure hence, I past thorow most part of Greece to seeke aduen∣tures, till I came into Macedon, where I found the King dead, and an Vsur∣per strongly placed and setled in his roome: the same of Meriana's beau∣ty I likewise encountred, but (alas) shee was shut vp in prison by that Traytor, and so close kept, as none could gaine a sight of her, but with much danger. The Villaine (though her neere Kinsman) keeping her thus, with intent to marry her, if he can gaine her consent; if not, so to hold her inclos'd during her life. But by a blessed chance, as it may happen, I got the sight of her, truely so rare a creature, as my commendations, which cannot with all worldly eloquence, if with best art, imploid to set forth the neerest of her praise come neere to the lowest degree of her perfections; what then should I venture to commend her, whose de∣licacie may receiue wrong by my vnperfect tongue, not sufficient to extoll her? Let it suffice, my eyes saw that, which made my heart her slaue; and thus I compassed my ioy. I lay in a house, the Master where∣of had serued her Father and Mother, wayting in the Queenes chamber. and now hath libertie to see her when hee will, or hath any businesse with her, as to bring her new apparrell, or such necessarie things, hee being Master of the Wardrobe. This man with whom I often confer∣red concerning the Princesse, finding my longing to behold her, and heartily wishing her libertie, brake with mee about it; I hearkned to him, and so wee grew so farre, as wee were fast enough to each other, for betraying our purpose. Then hee caused mee to put on a suite of one of his seruants, who was iust of my stature, and taking new appar∣rell to carrie her, sent it by mee, withall, his excuse, that hee was not then able himselfe to come, I went with it, imagining my selfe more then a Prince, in being so happie to be his Seruant to such an end. When I came, the Maides that attended her, told her of my comming, and of my selfe, being a stranger, and neuer there before; shee sent for me demaunding many things of me, which (as well as so much amazednesse, as I was in, beholding her, could permit me) I answered. Shee tooke delight to see me so mou'd, imagining it had been out of ba••hfulnes, which she made sport with.

Thus for some time it continued, till one day my Master went himselfe, with whom the Princesse had much discourse concerning me, and among the rest, shee very much prest to know what Country man I was, and at last directly who I was: for (said shee) either hee is a verie foolish fel∣low, or some other then he seemes to bee, which I rather doe imagine; therefore faile not, but tell mee by the respect and loue you beare mee, what you know of him?

Hee who loued mee as his Sonne, was loath to discouer mee direct∣lie, for feare of danger; yet considering, that if at all, hee were much better tell who I was, and the cause of my disguise, which would pur∣chase mee more good, then dissembling. Vpon promise of her being no way offended, nor discouering it, which if knowne, would cost my life; he told her all, and withall added my extreame affection to her. When

shee at first heard it, shee seemd offended, yet after said, she was contented to keepe counsell, vpon condition that I presently went thence, and neuer more attempted to come where shee was, in so disguis'd a habit to wrong her.

When I receiu'd this message of death, I knew not whether I should thank or blame my friend: in an agonie I was afflicted to the highest, perplexed in soule; in briefe, I was but torment, and with it tormented my selfe. Words I had none, nor other action, but going straight to my chamber, throwing my selfe on the bed, and there lay I sencelesse, speechlesse, and motion-lesse for some houres, as they told mee, in which time hee went to her againe, telling her how hee had left mee, and that shee had kild a braue Prince, and her hopefull kinsman; adding, How doe you thinke Madam euer to bee freed, when you vse such as would venture for your freedome with this scorne? long enough will you remaine here, and bee a Prisoner for any hope you can haue of deliuerie by these fashions: but it may bee you affect this life, or meane to marrie Clotorindus; if so, I haue done amisse, for which I beseech you pardon me, and him, with whom I will likewise leaue Macedon: for what shall I doe here, where worth is contemned, and slauerie esteemed?

When shee heard the honest speech of my Master, and saw the likeli∣hood of loosing him, in whom onely shee could haue assurance of truth and trust, shee told him, his loue and truth had gaind his pardon; for shee would not haue him goe by any meanes. For mee, shee would haue mee sent to her, with whom shee would speake (since shee could not belieue, such a Prince would take such a course for her loue), and direct me what I should doe, if shee found I was the man he spake of. Hee returning, told mee of it; and the time being come, I resolu'd (though for it I did die) since shee did mistrust mee to goe like my selfe; so as putting on my owne clothes, and my Sword by my side, but my Masters cloake vpon them, I past into the Garden, and so into a Gallerie, the honest man directing mee there to tarrie, till shee came vnto mee. When shee appeared, it was like a blazing Starre, foretelling my lost life and liberty, if she did still perseuer•• in her crueltie. But when shee spake, my heart was so possessed, as I had not one word to answere her; onely throwing off my disguise, kneeling downe, and gazing on her, was the manner of my suing to her.

Shee came then nearer, and taking mee vp, shee said: My Lord (for so my Seruant telles mee I may call you), much doe I wonder, why dis∣guis'd till this time you haue continued? If for loue, your iudgement much erred, to thinke I could affect so low as a Seruant; if for other ends, my selfe would neuer doe my selfe the wrong, to thinke of any vnnoble course: and if the first, why did you not seeke to discouer it?

Diuine Lady (said I), farre be it from me to haue a thought to iuiure that vertue, which admiringly I loue, and louing, honour; the reason why I remaind disguis'd and vnknowne, was the happinesse I conceiued in seeing you, and the feare I had to loose that happinesse, no way so much flattering my selfe, as to haue a hope to attaine to that, whereto my best thoughts

ambitiously did flee: feare kept me silent, loue made me feare. Now you haue it, dispose of mee mercifully, else soone after this discouerie, bee pleasd to heare of my sad end. She it seemd had pitie, but not so much as to expresse it, wherfore she only answered thus. To assure me of your loue, and you of pity, this is the course you must take; instantly leaue this place, nor returne vnto it, vntill such time as your fame by your noble deeds may proue such, as shall make you worthy of my loue; then returne, release mee with your owne hands; make me perfectly know, you are Prince Rosindy, and I wil giue my self vnto you. I with all ioy promised those conditions should be performd. She smil'd, and said, a Louer would promise any thing. I will die (said I) but ac∣complish these. Then will I be yours (said she). That gaue me a full heauen of ioy; so kneeling downe againe, and taking her hand, I kist it, and on it seald my vow. But one thing more (said she) I would haue you doe; let all these deeds be done, while you still keepe your name of the Vnknowne, and so bee cald till you returne, vnlesse some great occasion happen to reueale your selfe. I promisd likewise this, and so by that name of Vnknowne, I haue past these ten moneths, neuer discouering my selfe to any, but lately to Leandrus, and a braue Gentleman (then told he her the whole aduenture), and now vnto your selfe. With promise of her loue, my vow anew solemnely made, I took my leaue, my hart fild with sorrow to part, and my soule ready to leaue this earthly cage, grieuing so much to leaue my better self: she in like sort was sorry, and pretily exprest it; yet would not let too much bee seene, lest it might stay me, so we parted. I happie, and sorry; she sorry, and most happy in her owne noble vertues. But now mee thinkes the time is so long, as de∣sire makes me haste homewards, accounting that my home where my soule remaines: but to this place I came first of purpose, to heare what resolution was taken for the conquest of Albania, but most for the reliefe of Macedon. To obay my Ladies commaund, I came secretly, and so will remaine vn∣knowne, but to you my dearest Sister: now tell mee what you heare, and keepe my knowledge to your selfe?

Pamphilia with infinite ioy hearing this story, and the braue fortune like to befall her deare brother, tooke him affectionately by the hand, vsing these words: Most worthy to bee held dearest brother; the happinesse is much greater which I conceiue, then able to expresse, seeing the likelihood of your worthily merited fortune: What I know, I were a poore weake woman, if I would conceale from you, or reueale of you. Therefore, know the intent was to conquer Albania first: but whether the absence of Steriamus will hinder it or no, I yet know not; but this I beleeue, that such meanes may be wrought as to preferre Macedon before the other, and since your content, and fortunes lie that way, if you will trust me, I will order it so, as that shall bee first.

Bind mee more if you can, sweete Sister, and to make mee happy, en∣ioy the authoritie ouer mee and mine (said hee). Then did shee entreate him, that hee would for a while tarrie there, which hee graunted, till such time as they could order their affaires according to their owne minds. While this content lasted to Pamphilia, as much griefe increased to An∣tissia, which griefe at last grew to rage, and leauing sorrow fell to spite, vow∣ing to reuenge, and no more complaine; this thought did so farre possesse

her, as her countenance bewrayed her heart, shunning the sight of Pamphilia who with loue and respect did coue•• hers. This change made the sweet Prin∣cesse infinitely admire, what the reason should bee that now mooued her, she seeming to haue remaind satisfied. But those who know that languishing paine, also know, that no perfect satisfaction can be, vnlesse the humor it selfe with satisfaction doe quite leaue the possessed: for as long as one sparke liues though neuer so little, it is able with the least occasion, or signe of occasion, to make a great fire, and so did it now proue. Pamphilia desirous to haue no vnkindnes betweene them, sought all waies to please her: this was as ill a course, as if of scorne she had done it, or in pitie (hauing deceiu'd her) would shew the most despised, and contemptible friendship, which is pitie. Madnes grew so vpon this, as she burst out into strange passions, especially one day, when as Embassadours came from the young King of Romania, to giue thanks to the King of Morea, for his royall curtesie to his Aunt•• who by the Knight of Loue, he vnderstood to be in his Court, giuing withall such infinite praises of him, to the vnspeakable ioy of the old King, and all the Court, knowing him to bee Amphilanthus, as mirth liberally shewed her selfe in all faces but Antissia's. The Embassadour hauing deliuered letters to her, both from Amphilanthus, and the King, wherein she was intreated to come into Roma∣nia to him, and by her seruant aduised, not to refuse the Kings demand, but to goe with the Embassadour, which was the new Duke Lizandrinus, whither in short time himselfe would also come: but the more sweet and kind lan∣guage hee vs'd in his letter, the greater was her conceite, it was vsed to flatter her, complement neuer being vsed in the time of her happinesse, es∣pecially when she came to the point of going, she directly concluded, that he had laid that tricke vpon her, to be rid of her sight, and the fre••∣lier to enioy his new Mistris, and this she angerly told Pamphilia, whispering in her eare, withall adding, that he might aswell haue told her thus much himselfe, con∣sidering she saw him, and you braue Lady (said she) last night in the Garden∣wood. Pamphilia between feare to haue her brother discouerd by her malice & disdaine so vniustly to be accused, her bloud scorning to lie stil when it was wrongd, boldly shewd it self in her face with thretning anger: but this mou'd a cōtrary effect thē feare, increasing base iealousie in stead of noble thoughts & assurance of that she falsely conceiued, prouing this to be true, that mistrust which is most times built vpō falshood, gaines greatest assurance frō the falsest grounds. She seeing her blush (as she cald it) by that iudging guiltines, and that, working spite, went away laden with scorne, & her own suspition, which now wrought to fury. Into her chamber she went, where throwing her selfe vpon her bed, careles of ease or hansomnes, she brake into these speeches. Ac∣cursed day that first knew Antissia breathing, why was not the aire pesti∣lent, the milke poyson, the armes that held me serpents, and the breasts that gaue mee suck venom'd? and all these chang'd from their proper goodnesse to haue wrought my destruction? Miserable fate that brought me to be•• lost, and found by him who now ••uines me, Treacherous Loue, but more treacherous Louer; I might (wretch that I was) haue taken heed by others, and not haue runne into the same danger my selfe; now I am well requited, and payed in the same kind, for glorying at them, and in my gaine, while they waild vnder the waight of his forsaking them; now must I tread with

them in the path of that miserie. Fond creatures that ioy in this, be∣ware, this must at last bee your owne; your turne 'twill bee (though last) to leade the dance.

False creature; was it not enough to deceiue mee of my liberty, and honour, but to ouerthrow me vtterly? to destroy my quiet content, which in the smart of your loue I enioyed? Cursed bee the time I admired your sweetnesse, and familiar kindnesse, your louing care, and tender respect, which made my heart too soft, yeelding to the power of your allu∣rings. Is it come to this? Was all your fondnesse for this purpose? Did you only striue to win, to cast away at pleasure? Were all your desired meetings for this, to make me the more miserably end with neglectiue forsakennesse? If any man could be true, I assured my selfe it must be you. O that I had enough considered, there was doubt iustlie made of mans truth in loue; then had I more safely defended my selfe from this disaster. Amphilan∣thus, thou wert Noble, iust, free: How is this change? Can noblenesse bee, where deceit rules? Can iustice be where cousonage gouerns? can freedome bee, where falshood liues? Those were: but these are now in thee. Was thy sadnesse for this new wound? Alas, I assured my selfe it was for parting from mee, that so much change did grow. Could not I (blinde foole that I was) haue markt his often frequenting Pam∣philia's Chamber? his priuate discourse with her? his seeking opportu∣nitie to bee in her presence? his stolne lookes? his fearefull but amo∣rous touching her hand? his kissing his owne hand, rather comming from hers, then going to hers? Louing it more for hauing touch'd that beloued hand, then for being his. Oft would hee doe this, and looke on mee, then did I beleeue, all was meant to mee, which he did to her, and wisht it had been I, his eyes betraid mee, my beliefe bewitched mee, and his falshood must kill mee. Churlish affection, why torture you me alone? make him likewise smart, make her likewise vexe. But I need not curse her, since (poore Lady) she is but entring into her following perplexi∣tie. Alas Pamphilia, I pitie thee, and indeed loue thee no whit lesse then before; I cannot, nor may not blame thee for louing him, since none can re∣sist his conquering force in loue, nor for seeking him: for whose soule would not couet him? but I blame him for spoyling poore hearts to his glorious triumph. Vnnaturall man that preyes on his owne kind, nourishing his life with the ruine of simple innocent Louers; a cruell foode, but cru∣eller deuourer of them: which hath wrought this hardnesse in mee, as from hence to loue thee, but till I can bee reueng'd of thee; and such a reuenge will I haue, as thy hard heart shall melt for it, if any goodnesse bee left in it; for ouer the world will I seeke thee (my iourney to Roma∣nia once ended) to bee thus quit with thee, that thy false eyes, and flat∣tring tongue, shall bee no longer able to deceiue, or betray thy selfe or o∣thers, but behold the true end of me, who gaine my death by thy false∣hood, and in thy presence will I conclude my life with my loue to thee. I wondred, yet neuer had wit to doubt, why so much Ceremonie lately came from you; ceremonie indeede, being a shadow, not sub∣stance of true loue. Change wrought it, and change put on the habit of that which once was loue: for once I know you loued mee, and was

fond of me; fond, I fondnesse it may most properly be cald; for loue is eter∣nall, but this changeable. Many wee see fond of sports, of horses, of doggs; and so was it my dogged fortune, to haue you fond of me: but the immor∣tall part, the soule, is not fond, but louing, which loue for euer liues; and this loue wanted I, onely enioying his fond, and fondly proou'd desires, which are remou'd, and haue left nothing behind, but the sad remembrance of my once great and highest esteem'd blessing; now remaine I, throwne downe into the darknesse of despaire, and losse, by losse of his affection.

Thus discoursing, tossing vpon her Bed, she remain'd; fed not, nor slept all that night: the next morning early going to the Garden Woods, whither she sooner came then Pamphilia, where being a while, and sitting vnder the same Ashe, wherein the other affectionate afflicted Princesse had written the Sonnet, shee was inuited, either by her owne passion, or the imitati∣on of that excellent Lady, to put some of her thoughts in some kind of measure, so as shee perplexed with loue, iealousie, and losse as shee be∣leeu'd, made this Sonnet, looking vpon the Sunne, which was then of a good height.

THe Sunne hath no long iourney now to goe While I a progresse haue in my desires, Disasters dead-low-water-like do show The sand, that ouerlook'd my hop'd for hyres.

Thus I remaine like one that's laid in Briers, Where turning brings new paine and certaine woe, Like one, once burn'd bids me auoid the fires, But loue (true fire) will not let me be slow.

Obedience, feare, and loue doe all conspire A worth-lesse conquest gain'd to ruine me, Who did but feele the height of blest desire When danger, doubt, and losse, I straight did see. Restlesse I liue, consulting what to doe, And more I study, more I still vndoe.

Vndoe (cride she), alas I am vndone, ruind, destroyd, all spoild by being forsaken, restlesse affliction which proceeds from forsaking: yet would I bee beholding to this Enemie of mine, if forsaking in my torments would pos∣sesse me, so I might remaine forsaken by them: but that must not bee, I must onely know pleasure, happinesse, and the chiefe of happinesses loue, from my beloued forsake mee; but paine, torture, and shame will still abide, and dwell with me. Then went shee a little further towards the Riuer, where by the banke vnder the Willow lay the supposed Amphilanthus, the cause of all this businesse; his Helme was off, by reason of the heate, and securenesse from being discouered, not indeed being possible for any, except Antissia, who had by Pamphilia's leaue a key to those walkes to come within them of that side of the Riuer: shee had gone to him rashly, had not his voyce staid her, whereat she started at first, and then trembled with feare and ioy, thin∣king

by that likewise it had beene her Loue: Iealousie had so transform'd her, as it was impossible for her to heare, or see, or know any thing but Am∣philanthus, and her sorrow for him; when at another time shee would haue laught at her selfe for making such vnlikelinesse vexe her; hee spake but low, as it were whispering to himselfe these words. O my deare, when shall I (wretch) againe inioy thy sight, more deare, more bright to me then brightest day, or my owne life? Most sweet Commandresse of my on∣ly blisse, when, oh when shall I againe be blessed? Canst thou leaue me thy loyall seruant, here or any where, but with thy best deseruing selfe? Shall I lye here in secret, complaining, when they selfe maist succour me? Quick∣ly alas, releeue me, neuer more neede, neuer more loue sought it. These words gaue her full assurance 'twas he, and iealousie told her they were spo∣ken to Pamphilia. Rage now outgoing iudgement, shee flew to him; vn∣gratefull man, or rather monster of thy sexe, said she, behold before thee, thy shame in my dishonour wrought by my loue, and thy change? Rosin∣dy was amazed, and fear'd betraying, wondring his Sister was so carelesse of him: shee seeing her rash and vnpardonable fault, in hauing thus wrong'd her Loue, stood in such a depth of amazednesse, and torment (all affections working at once their owne waies in her) as she was a meere Chaos, where vnfram'd, and vnorder'd troubles had tumbled themselues together with∣out light of Iudgement, to come out of them.

The blacke Knight beheld her, wondring more at her manner, and for∣mer speech, then now heeding his being knowne, admiring at her passion, and not vnderstanding her words, to his thinking neuer hauing seene her, and therefore not guilty of her blaming him. But now was shee a little come to her selfe, but so as feare, and modesty causd so much bashfulnesse as scarce shee could bring forth what she desired; but with eyes cast downe and a blushing face, shee with much adoe, said thus. Sir, I beseech you as a Louer (for so I perceiue you are) hide the imperfections of one of that num∣ber, my selfe vnfortunatly hauing fallen into the worst extremity, which is Iealousie, and worse, if may bee worse, without cause as now I perceiue, but falshood which hath caused it. I mistooke you, and more haue mistaken my selfe, or indeed my better selfe: conceale I beseech in this, and if I may serue you in any thing, for requitall command, and I will obey you. Faire Lady, said he, I cannot but exceedingly pitty your estate, and with the happiest a∣mendment to it•• My humblest suit vnto you shall be onely this, that you will conceale my being heere, not esteeming me so worthy as once (after your going hence) to remember you saw me, till such time, as it may for∣tune, I may doe you seruice, or that I come to acknowledge this fauour from you, and I shall in the like obey you. As shee was answering, and promi∣sing that, Pamphilia came, but with infinite discontent against Antissia for being there, when as shee without dissembling, but withall vnfaigned loue, and shame, fell at her feer, beseeching her pardon, crying out, that neuer liu'd there a more vnbless'd Creature then her selfe, who had now liu'd to wrong the two perfect mirrours of their Sexes, with the base (and most wor∣thy of contempt) humour of suspition.

Pamphilia tooke her vp, and quickly was the peace made, the one seeking to giue all satisfaction, the other willing to receiue any, rather then for that

businesse to make more stirring. Then with promise of her secret holding, the Knights being there, not so much as desiring to know his name, lest that might make suspition, she desired to know, to discouer. Againe she depar∣ted contended, and as happy as before she had beene disquieted; onely now grieued that she had wrong'd Amphilanthus. She gone the deare Brother and Sister sate downe together, Pamphilia speaking thus.

My long stay (said shee) might haue marr'd your promise and my desired care of keeping you secret, had not this good chance of acknowledgement wrought the contrary; but howsoeuer it had brought little harme to you, since long, I feare, you will not here abide, after you vnderstand the newes I bring, which is this. My Father was this morning in Councell, where it was set downe that Macedon is fittest to be first releeu'd, and the rather, be∣cause it is more easie to gaine the Kingdome out of one Vsurpers hand, then out of many. My Mother hath beene infinite earnest, and as earnest as if she knew your mind, her reason being, that the young Queene is her Neece, as you know, and Macedon once quieted, Albania will be the sooner won. Selarinus the younger Brother likewise hath desired the businesse of Alba∣nia may be layd aside till Steriamus be heard of, not willing to bee thought hasty in winning honour, and loue in his owne Countrey in the absence of his Brother: and in truth, I must say, he doth like himselse in it, and that is like one of the finest Princes I know, for so he is, and the like will you say when you once knowe him, and know him you must, his ambition (as he termes it) being to gaine the honour of your friendship, and to be your Companion in your trauels. I haue promis'd him to be the meanes for him; and beleeue me brother, you will thank me for it, since a sweeter disposition match'd with as noble a minde, and braue a courage, you neuer (I beleeue) encountred.

Rosindy was so ioy'd with this discourse, as he knew not almost what this last part of her speech was: wringing her hand, O said he, the blessed Mes∣senger of eternall happinesse; but what Forces shall goe to redeeme her? The number from hence, said she, are fifty thousand, from Achaia twenty, from Romania twenty, the Achaians are to be demanded by Ambassadors now appointed; that Army to be lead by Leandrus, the Romanians by Ly∣sandrinus, the same Duke who is here now with vs, and who certainly as∣sures my Father, that number will not be refus'd by his Master, but rather more forces added to them. Now doth my Father wish for you to lead his men, desiring you should haue the honour of this braue attempt, by strong working of diuine knowledge, I thinke, vnderstanding your minde. Choose now whether you will breake promise or no, to your Mistris; yet doe I not see, but the liberty she gaue you, will permit you to doe this; No, said he, deare Pamphilia, counsell me not to be vniust, and in the greatest to mine owne vow, and that vowe to my Loue? But thus you may helpe mee, as∣sure my Father that you know where to finde me, and let him reserue the honour of the charge for me, and you bring mee to receiue it, in which time I will post to Macedon, and get leaue to returne, and take the charge: This they agreed vpon, so being somewhat late she left her Brother there, promising to come againe to him after Dinner, and then to let him know the Kings answer, and so take leaue of each other. She return'd when as

she found the King and the whole Court assembled to see, and heare a strange aduenture. An aged man of graue and maiestick countenance, haire white as snow, and beard downe to his girdle, bound in strong chaines of iron; a young man likewise enchaind with him, foure Squires leading them, the old man with teares, and pitifull groanes telling his story thus. Most fa∣mous King, behold before you the distressed king of Negroponte, brought in∣to this misery by my owne folly, so much doating on a daughter of mine, as I suffered my selfe to fall into the sinne of forgetfulnesse to this my sonne, too worthy I confesse for me, deseruing a farre better title then my sonne, vnlesse I had been a more natural father; For such was my affection to that vngrate∣full child of mine, as I disinherited my soone cald Dolorindus, whose vertues appeare by the blacke sinnes of his sister, who I euen now grieue to name: but why should my sorrow bee increased with the sight of your noble com∣passions? or better to say, Why should so worthlesse a creature moue sor∣row in such royall minds? to auoide which, I will as briefly, as my miserable relation will giue me leaue, discourse my tragick storie to you.

After I had vnnaturally disinherited Dolorindus here present, I gaue the kingdome (which came by my wife, and she dead) to Ramilletta, my vngrati∣ous daughter, who requited me, as Vipers doe their Dam; for no sooner had shee the possession, but she fell into such ill gouernment, and indeed beastly liuing, as the report wounded my honour, and staind my blood: I ashamed, grieued at it, told her of it, perswaded her to leaue it, telling her, how cruell a blow it was to my soule; to see her shame. Shee made mee no answer, but with her eyes cast downe, left the roome where I was. I thought confession and repentance had caus'd this countenance: but alas, I was deceiued, for it was rage, and scorne procured it, as soone I found: for instantly came in a number of her seruants, who tooke me, and cast mee into a darke terrible pri∣son, where they kept me one whole yeare: then came Dolorindus, and stroue with al his wit and power to release me; but finding it could not be wrought by other meanes then good nature; desiring, that as he had life from me, hee might haue death also with me. She taking some pitie of him, or rather not willing to shed his bloud her selfe (though shee cared not who did) told him, that if hee could ouercome two knights, which shee would appoint to encounter him, hee should haue his owne, and my liberty, else to be at her dispose. This hee agreed vnto, glad that hee had a shadow of hope (for no more it proued) for my release, vndertaken by him. The day was appointed, when as I was brought into a little place, made of purpose for seeing the com∣bate; shee, and her seruants hoping this would be the last day of my trouble to them, when I should see Dolorindus slaine, and her cruelty increase, both which must (as they did trust) end my life with breaking of my heart; and so indeed it neerely had, and would assuredly, had my sonne been kild, whose loue to me, did make my fault so foule before me, as affection proued curster then affliction. But to the matter: so brauely did my Dolorindus behaue him∣selfe for our deliueries, as although the other were such, as still if a chal∣lenge were made, they were chosen; if any valiant man had been named, they had bin instantly commended with him; nay, such confidence all had of their strength, as if the kingdome had bin in danger to be lost, and only to be saued by combate, these would haue been set for the Defendants, yet were

these two ouercome by Dolorindus, and in our presence had their liues ended by his braue arme, who yet had sufferd his bloud to accompany their deaths, trickling downe as fast, as the teares from a mothers eies, for the losse of her dearest sonne: so much indeed he lost, as he was for faintnes forced to bee carried away to Chirurgions (I thought) and so to safetie. In some kind this was true, but not to libertie; for she seeing the honour he had got, and fea∣ring the loue of the people would fall vpon him, seeing his worth, she kindly in shew brought him into a rich chamber, and had his wounds drest, taking infinite care of him: but as soone as he recouerd, hee was for safetie shut in∣to a strong Tower, where he remaind till within these few moneths, my selfe carried backe againe into my prison, where I was vext with the continuall discourse of her brauery, of Dolorindus death, and of her marriage with an vndeseruing man, who in my life of gouernment I euer hated, no worth be∣ing at all in him, that he should deserue mention; but that he had no worth in him meriting mention; neuer so detestable a Villaine breathing. This creature she fell in loue withall, and liued withall; but now I thinke is partly wearie of, because shee doth expose him to fight for her honour, being be∣fore so fond of him, as she was afraid the wind should almost blow vpon him: but him shee hath brought, and three more his brothers; and if these fower can bee ouercome, by any Knights in this Court, wee shall bee set at liber∣tie, else remaine Prisoners, which wee haue consented vnto. Now Sir, if you please to giue vs such knights, they shall enter.

The King answered, that such vnnaturalnesse deserued a farre sharper pu∣nishment, and that there was no sense, a Combat should end so foule a busi∣nesse. Hee replide, that hee was contented, and therefore desired but the knights, and for the matter, it was already determined. Then stept Selari∣nus forth, desiring to bee one; Pamphilia likewise intreated, shee might haue the fauour to bring another, who shee would vndertake for, meaning the Prince of Corinth; the Prince of Elis would not bee denied to bee the third; and Lisandrinus humbly besought in such a businesse he might be the fourth.

This was agreed vpon, so Pamphilia went to the Wood, and there dis∣coursing the businesse to her brother, hee instantly resolued to be one, and whether she would or no, came with her, his Beauer close for feare of dis∣couery, doubting nothing else but his face to betray him; for so much was hee growne in height and bignesse, as hee could not be taken for Rosindy. The fower Defendants being there met, the rest entred, Ramiletta going in the midst of the fower Challengers, two before her, two behind her, but so farre asunder, as they made from corner to corner the fashion of a Saltier crosse. So terrible were these to behold, as few could indure to looke vpon them, onely her seruant was a little milder in his countenance, and somewhat lesse then the others. Their haire was of a browne red colour•• and brist∣led; their eyes of answerable bignesse to their bodies, but furiosly sparkling fier. When Pamphilia saw these Monsters, shee would as willinglie haue had her Brother thence, as hee ambitiously wisht to haue the Combate begin: then followed fifty knights without swords, but their Beauers close, being such, as the old King told the Court, were taken, seeking to deliuer them from bondage, and who were brought

along with them for witnesse of their valour and power. These huge men, who were cald the ter••ible and vnconquered Brethren, nor the Lady, made any reuerence, but gazed vpon the company and Ladies, who there stood to behold them: then were they carried to the Lists, the old man againe spea∣king: Sir, these are the Challengers; may it please you that the Defendants likewise go. The King was sorry for the Knights, & in his mind more trou∣bled, then long time before he had bin, once being of the mind to haue hin∣dred it: but considering his honor was ingaged, in that, he went on, comman∣ding his great Marshall neuertheles to haue some other number of Knights ready arm'd vpon any occasion. This was done, and so being all in the Lists, the Iudges plac'd, and the Trumpets sounding, Ramiletta was brought in her Chariot of pale greene Veluet, made of an vnusuall fashion, and those fiftie knights standing round about her, the old man and his son being in a feate be∣hind her in the same Chariot. The Iusts beginning, the Vnknowne Knight encountred the greatest of the foure; Selarinus the next in bignesse and fierce∣nesse, almost his equall; Lisandrinus the third, and the Prince of Elis the fourth. The first encounter was strong and terrible, for the mourning Knight was struck flat vpon his backe, and his aduersaries horse was with the blow strooke dead, his Master by that meanes falling to the ground; Selarinus and his enemie both vnwillingly saluting the earth with their heads, the rest had likewise that fortune: then brauely began the fight with the swords, which continued one whole howre, no aduantage being seene, till the Prince of Elis with extreame losse of bloud, and a wound in his leg, fell to the earth; at that instant had the vnknowne Knight giuen his enemy a wound in the thigh, which was so great, and besides giuen crosse, as he could not stand, but like a huge mast of a ship, with the storme of this blow laid his greatnes along; the other going to strike off the Prince of Elis his head, was by the blacke Knight hindred, striking off that arme, which was depriuing the Prince of his life. At this he cried out, giuing the watchword which was among them, so as the other, who had now euen wearied their foes, left them, running to the place where the Princes sat, catching Pamphilia in their armes, and straight carrying her into the Chariot; the other fifty at the instant got Swords for the accomplishing of their wills, priuately hid in the Chariot, a place being made vnder the seate for them, the Hilts onely out, which were taken to bee but artificially made to seeme Swords, and placed for ornaments round a∣bout the body of the Chariot, being all painted about, and caru'd with Tro∣phies, and such like deuices. Then did the old man as soone as they had their prey, turne Chariot man, driuing the Horses with great swiftnesse, the King cride for helpe; but alas, in vaine as it seem'd, tearing his haire for this ouer∣sight. But soone was this businesse ended, for Selarinus marking their trea∣son, leapt vp vpon his horse againe, pursuing them, and ouertaking them, kild the former horse, the rest running, fell ouer him, so as the Chariot was staid. Then came two strange Knights, who by chance were going to the Court, to whom the Traytor cride for helpe, saying, That that Knight by force would take his Lady from him, beseeching euen with teares to haue their help, for (said he) here is the famous Princesse Pamphilia, whom this Villaine would take from mee, and abuse. With that the strange Knights began to prepare, but Selarinus told them, they were best take heed, for (said hee)

this is all false that he reports, and hee hath stolne by treason this Lady from the Court, where there is yet a cruell fight, I hauing left them to rescue this Princesse. One of them straight knew his voice, so as drawing their swords on his side, as before they were ready to doe it against him, they drew to the Chariot, demaunding of the Princesse if this were true? She answered, Yes; and therefore (said she) assist this worthy Prince. Then they tooke the old man and youth, and as before they were in counterfeit chaines; they made them sure in true ones, tying them with the false Ramiletta to the hind end of the Chariot, so putting their Squires to leade the horses. With this braue Princesse they returnd, and most fortuately for the other distressed Knights at the Court, who were so tired with the terrible Brothers, and fifty other, as they were almost at their last, the poore vnarmd Courtiers lying as thicke slaine, as if they had strewed the place with their brauery, in stead of flowers: the Marshal came with his troop: but so little could he auaile, as only taking the King, and carrying him away to safetie with the Queene, and such as did run with them, left the two braue Combatants to defend themselues, who did so brauely, as they had slaine two of the Brothers out-right, Rosindy ha∣uing kild one, wounded the other in the thigh, and now was fighting with him, whom Selarinus had first encountred, but very weake with wearines, and losse of bloud, the fierce man prest sorely on him, when Selarinus again came, and finish'd his begun worke, giuing him a blow on the head, which made him stagger, and seconding it, laid him on the earth: then leapt he from his horse, lifting the blacke Knight vp in his stead, and so strake he off the head•• of that Traytor. Now was there but one left, and he wounded, yet the num∣ber of Knights were little decreased, so as if the two new knights had not come, they would haue been in a farre worse case, who so brauely behaued themselues, as soone the victory was clearely theirs. Rosindy bestirring him∣selfe in such manner, as who euer had seene him, and told the Queene his Mi∣stris of it, that alone, without any other Conquest, had been enough to win her.

By this all was quiet, then tooke they some of those Knights, who had yeelded and demaunded mercy, the wounded Brother, and the traiterous old man, Ramiletta, and the youth, going with this troope into the Pallace; the body likewise of the Prince of Elis they carried with them, which yet seemd but his body, no breath stirring, nor any shew of life appearing, till be∣ing laid in his bed, and carefully lookt vnto, his old Father being there grie∣ued in heart, yet the better contented, since if he died, it would be to his ho∣nour for euer, to end his daies in so noble an aduenture; life againe possessed him, but weakely expressing it selfe for many daies, yet did he rocouer. When this company came into the Hall, straight came the King vnto them, run∣ning to Pamphilia, and weeping with ioy to see her free againe, so as in a pre∣tie space he could not speake vnto her, but when, O my deere heart (said he) what treason was there here against mee, to depriue mee of thy sight? Shee comforting him, and letting some teares fall, as dutifully shed to wait on him, besought him, since shee found that blessednesse, as his so great affection to her, that he would thanke those, who restored her to him; then taking them all one after another in his armes, he desired to know the blacke Knight.

Pamphilia then answerd. Sir, said shee, this Knight is so ingaged by a vow, as he can hardly let his name be knowne; yet since, this liberty was gi∣uen, that vpon extraordinary occasion hee might reueale himselfe, I will vndertake the discouering, and fault (if fault there be in this) vpon mee, and then turning to him, Braue Brother, said shee, comfort our Fathers age with the happinesse of the sight of such an incomparable Sonne, w••th that Rosindy pulling off his Helme kneeled downe. But when the King beheld him, he fell vpon his necke, with such affection kissing him, as if all his loue were at that instant in him, and ioynd together to expresse it to him. Then was command giuen for a rich Chamber for him, whither he was lead, Selarinus accompanying him, being lesse hurt then he, yet had he not escaped free from remembrance of that diuellish creature. All now at peace, no discourse was but of the valour of the defendants, but especially the honor of Rosindy was blazed abroad, hauing with his own hand kil'd one of the Brothers, wounded another, and wearied the third to death, slaine many of the Knights, and by his example done so much, as incouraged the weake bodies of the rest, whose hearts neuer faild. Then Selarinus was com∣mended exceedingly, and indeed with great cause, for his valour was ••quall with most, his care that day exceeding others. Pamphilia being saued from imprisonment by him. Lisandrinus will all honour respected, who made manifest proofe of his valour, and affection to the Court. The Prince of Elis did so well, as made all assured of his being a braue Knight, this the first of his aduentures hauing so manfully performed: for had not an vnlucky blow in the legge hindred him from standing, he had also slaine his foe. The two last Knights were of the Court, one, Sonne to the Marshall, cald Liza∣rino; and the other, Tolimandro, Prince of Corinth. The Traytors were all carried to a strong Tower, where they remaind till the Knights were well againe recouered, which in short time was to the great ioy and comfort of euery one.

Now did Pamphilia thinke it fit to acquaint the King with her Brothers businesse; wherefore first asking lea••e of Rosindy, shee did; the King being infinite glad of this newes, went straight vnto his lodging, whom he found alone, but for Selarinus, who neuer left him, as strict and firme an affection growing betweene them, as euer liued in two mens hearts, one vnto ano∣ther. Then did the King impart vnto him, what Pamphilia had told him, which was confirmed by Rosindy, the match liked, and commended by the King: the resolution was, as Pamphilia before had told him, and hee chosen Generall of the Morean forces, Selarinus his Lieutenant•• and thus with pre∣paring for these wars, and euery one contented (except the louing Ladies); Loue must againe be a little discoursed of.

Parselius (who making haste after Amphilanthus) ••ooke his way tho∣row Morea; but after not as hee was directed by the Squires, but along Achaia, crossing the Gulfe of Lepanto, which course might make him misse the King, if hee came short of the Combate; they resoluing to take their course backe againe by sea to Morea, aswell to trie aduentures in the Islands, as to hasten the forces, that being a shorter way: but here did Parselius, as destined for him (for till now hee still obeyed the other) meete a greater force then hee imagined, being in a Forrest benighted,

and hauing none with him except his Cousins Squire, and his owne. In that solitary place they layd them downe for that night: The next day going on in that Desart till they came to a strong and braue Castle, situated in a litle Plaine, a great moate about it, and ouer it a draw Bridge, which at that time was downe, and some Seruants vpon it, looking vpon the water which was broad and finely running: when the Prince came neere the place, they turnd their eyes to him, who courteously saluted them, and demaunded, whose Castle that was; they replied, it was the Kings, and that there liu'd within it his faire Daughter Dalinea. Is shee, said the Prince, to be seene? If so, I pray let her know that heere is a Knight desires to kisse her hand, well knowne to her Brother, and who had the honour to bee his Companion. One of the seruants instantly ranne in, others went to take their horses, while Parselius lighted, and put off his Helme, wiping his face with his delicate white and slender hand, rubbing his haire, which delicatly and na∣turally curling made rings, euery one of which were able to wed a heart to it selfe. By that time the Messenger returnd: leading him first into a stately Hall, then vp a faire paire of stone staires, caru'd curiously in I∣mages of the Gods, and other rare workmanship: at the topp they came into a braue roome richly hang'd with hangings of Needle-worke, all in Silke and Gold, the Story being of Paris his Loue, and rape of Helen; out of that they passed into another roome, not so big, but farre richer, the furniture being euery way as sumptuous if not bettering it; but what made it indeed excell, was that, here was Dalinea sitting vnder a Cloth of Estate, of Carnation Veluet, curiously and richly set with Stones, all ouer being Em∣brodered with purle of Siluer, and Gold, the Gold made in Sunnes, the Siluer in Starres, Diamonds, Rubies, and other Stones plentifully and cun∣ningly compassing them about, and plac'd as if for the Skye where they shin'd; but she standing appeard so much brighter, as if all that had been, but to set forth her light, so farre excelling them, as the day wherein the Sunne doth shew most glorious, doth the drowsiest day. Her Ladies who attended her, were a little distant from her in a faire compasse Window, where also stood a Chaire, wherein it seemed she had been sitting, till the newes came of his arriuall. In that Chaire lay a Booke, the Ladies were all at worke; so as it shewed, she read while they wrought. All this Par∣selius beheld, but most the Princesse, who he so much admir'd, as admirati∣on wrought so farre, as to permit him to thinke that she equal'd Vrania; this was a sudden stepp from so entyre a Loue, as but now hee vowed to his Shepherdesse, being an Heresie, as he protested, for any man to thinke there liu'd a creature like his Loue. But into this hee is now falne, and will lead the faction against her. Vncertaine Tyrant Loue, that neuer brings thy Fauourits to the topp of affection, but turnes againe to a new choice; Who would haue thought any but Vrania's beauty, could haue inuited Parselius to loue? Or who could haue thought, any might haue withdrawne it, till this sight? Which so much mou'd as he loues Vrania, but for being some∣what like to Dalinea, but her, for her owne sake. He was not so struck with wonder when he first saw Vrania, (though with it he lost his liberty) as he was now wounded to death, loosing life if no compassion succeeded; this first sight wonne him, and lost his former Bondage, yet was he freed,

but to take a new bond vpon him. He went towards her, who with a Ma∣iesticke, yet gracious fashion met him, who saluted her thus. My fare lea∣ding me (I hope for my greatest happinesse, I'm sure yet for my best con∣tent, bringing me thus to behold your excellencies) f••om farre places, vn∣looking for pleasures, am brought to the height of them most incompara∣ble Lady, in comming thus into your presence, whereto I was emboldned by the loue I bare your Brother, by the curtesies of your seruants, the ho∣nour your selfe granted me in licencing my approach: but most by my owne soule, which told me I must not passe without paying the tribute of my best seruice, to the Princesse of all women; for how would my con∣science accuse me in such a neglect? How would my heart blame me for such an omission? But how might braue Leandrus chide Parselius, if hee yeelded not himselfe at the feete of his worthily admired Sister? Dalinea hearing him call himselfe Parselius, with a sweet and pleasing blush, desired pardon, that she had so farre forgot her selfe, as not to doe him suffici∣ent reuerence; but yet a little blame your selfe, great Prince, said she, who vnknowne, and vndiscouering your selfe to any, you come among vs: par∣don this rudenesse, and be pleas••d to accept my submissi••n for it; to deserue which fauour, I will striue in giuing you the best welcome to deserue it. He took her hand, a••d kissed it, which although she could in respect haue hin∣dred, yet so delicate was his hand, as shee was content to let him hold and kisse hers. Then she brought him vnder the State, where two Chaires be∣ing set, they passed away some time, discoursing of aduentures, and of the sweet content the Companion Princes enioyd in their youthes, shee infi∣nitely delighting in those stories, especially when they touched on her bro∣ther, whom entirely she loued.

Parselius finding which way her affection lead her, made his attend her, and all his stories, either beginning, or ending with the praise of Leandrus. Thus one pleas'd, and the other contented, that it was in him to content her; they passed some dayes loue creeping into the heart of Dalinea, as subtilly as if he meant to surprise, and not by open force take her: Discourse pro∣cur'd conuersation, sweet conuersation, liking of it selfe; that liking, desire to continue it; that desire, louing it, and that the man that affoorded it: and thus farre come, I should wrong her if I should not say, shee yeelded in her heart to loue his person, whose discourse had made his way, by taking first her eares prisoners, now her eyes likewise execute their office, brings his excellent shape, his beauty, his absolute braue fashion: then her vnder∣standing besets her, tells her how excellent his wit is, how great his valour, how matchlesse his worth, how great his descent, and royall possessions; all these, alas, ioynd, and made a curious, and crafty worke to compasse that, which loue himselfe without halfe, or any in comparison of these as∣sistants, could haue made his subiect. But as the rarest Iewell is not to be had but at the highest rate: so her peerelesse perfections must haue all this businesse to gaine her; but now she is wonne, and he almost lost, not da∣ring to thinke so, or ventring to winne it: He would with his eyes tell her his heart, with kissing her delicate hand, with a more then vsuall affection, let her feele his soule was hers: She found it, and vnderstood what hee would haue her vnderstand, nay, shee would answer his lookes with as amo∣rous

ones of her part, as straightly, and louingly would she hold his hand, but knowing modesty forbid, shee would sigh, and in her soule wish that he would once speake; but bashfulnesse with-held him, and woman mode∣stie kept her silent; till one afternoone, walking i••to a most curious and dainty Garden, where all manner of sweets were ready in their kind to en∣tertaine them; Flowers of all sorts for smell and colour; Trees of all kinds of fruits, and walkes diuided for most delight, many Birds singing, and with their notes welcomming them to that place: At last, a payre of innocent white Turtles came before them, in their fashion woing each other, and so wonne, enioying their gaine in billing, and such like pretty ioy.

Parselius taking aduantage on this, how blessed (said he) are these poore Birds in their owne imaginations, thus hauing one anothers loue! Tis true, said Dalinea, but more blessed are they, if the story bee true, that they neuer change. Hauing once, said he, made a perfect choice, none sure can after change. I neuer heard man accuse himselfe, said she, but rather when he had runne into that fault, finde something amisse in his former loue. I am sorry, replide the Prince, you haue so ill an opinion of men, since that I feare, will hinder you from honouring any with your loue. Why should you feare that answerd shee? Because (sigh'd hee) I would not haue such admirable Beauties vnaccompanied, but ioyn'd to a worthy associate. These must, said shee, for any thing I see remaine as they doe (if such as you say) long enough, before they wil be sought; feare (cryde he) makes men speech∣lesse, and admiration hinders the declaring their affections. A poore lo∣uer, said shee, such a one must be, who wants the heart of one such little Bird as this. I see most perfect Lady, said he, then, that this bashfulnesse is neither profitable nor commendable, wherefore I wil now, incouraged by your words, rather commit an error in honest plainnesse, then in fine Court∣ship, and if it be an error, take this with it, it is not meant amisse, though it may bee rudely performed, as•• what but rudenesse can come from a wandring Knight?

Not then to colour that which is most cleare, and perfect in it selfe, with fine and delicate Phrases, or to goe too farre about from the right way of discouering, giue me leaue, most excellent Princesse, to say, that so ex∣celling was your power ouer me, when I first saw you, and so strongly hath continued the honour in keeping the conquest, as I am, and euer must bee your deuoted Seruant, my loue being wholly dedicated to you; and this I would faine long since haue said, but I feared your displeasure, nor had I now ventured, but that me thought you bid me bee bold, taking your dis∣course wholly to my selfe. Then did you take it right, said shee, for I confesse; with that shee blush'd so prettily, and look'd so modestly amo∣rous, as shee neede haue said no more, to make him know she lou'd him: Yet he couetous to haue the word spoken, taking her in his armes, be not so cruell my onely life said he, to barre me from the hearing of my blisse; Why then, said shee, I must confesse I loue you. Blessedn••sse to my soule cryd he, these words are now; my dearer selfe canst thou affect poore me? I honor your worth, and loue your selfe, said shee, but let your loue be ma∣nifested to me in your vertuous carriage towards me. Vertue, said hee, made choice for me, then can she not abuse her selfe; and vertue in you made

me most to loue you, then assure your selfe, that onely vertue shall gouerne me. Thus they louingly and chastly liu'd a while, only pleas'd with discourse; but that grew to leaue place to more enioying it selfe, being loath that any time should be spent without it, enuying the night that kept them so long ab∣sent; to auoid which he so earnestly sued, and she so much lou'd, as she could not refuse, what hee desired for their equall contents: so as making two of her maides, and his Squire onely acquainted, one morning they stole out of the Castle by a back doore, which opened iust vpon the Mote, and hauing a bote there, wherein they vsed to row for pleasure, they cr••st the water, and so walked vnto an Hermitage hard by, where after they had heard Praye••s, the Hermit plaid the Priest and married them. With infinite ioy they re∣turnd, to come to the height of their desires, where wee will ••eaue them a lit∣tle, and speake of Berlandis, Squire to Amphilanthus, who longing to see his Lord, and seeing little hope of getting Parselius thence, resolu••d to try how he might get him from that lazie life, and win him againe to follow Armes: but alas, this was as impossible, as it was for Vrania to belieue, that Parselius would forsake her. Many times he vrg'd him, many times he told him of aduentures, which himselfe and his Cosen had past, to thei•• eternall fames; oft hee remembred him of the promises hee had made, and vowes which ought to bee performed: but these wrought nothing, vowes he remembred not, but this last holy one, which was most religiously to bee obserued: pro∣mises hee had made, but those might stay till some other time, or till he had longer solaced himselfe in these new delights.

To conclude, Berlandis concluded to leaue him, and so telling; and taking his leaue of him, departed with this message to Amphilanthus, that he would in short time come vnto him; in the meane time, intreated to bee par∣doned, since in his time hee had a little absented himselfe from him vp∣on a like, though not so iust an occasion. Then hee charged Berlandis, not to let any know where hee had left him, except his owne Lord, and to intreate likewise his secrecie to all others to denie his finding of him.

Thus Parselius obscured himselfe for some time, while the fame of his Brother brauely fild the world, and had shind alone like the greatest light, had not one eclips'd it with his greater power, which was, and is, Incompa∣rable Amphilanthus, who with his two companions left Romania, intending to goe to Morea, as I before said, hasting thither, as in pretence of the Albanian businesse. After they had taken ship, they came downe the Archipelago, and amongst those Islands staying at Sio for fresh water, and to take in some pas∣sengers, left by that ship there, at her going to Constantinople; into the which Iland, the Knight of the Forrest would needes perswade the rest to en∣ter, seeing it delightfull, and louing naturally to see nouelties, and ven∣ture as farre, and oft-times as happilie as any: this motion was agree∣able to Steriamus, whose heart yet faild him, for all Amphilanthus did warrant him to goe where his soule was Prisoner, for feare of offen∣ding her, though so much hee loued, as if hee had been sure to see her, and with that sight to die instantly, rather then liue, and not see her, he would so haue suffered death. But Amphilanthus was loath to loose time, yet hee was contented to content his Friend, so as they

passed vp a good way into the Iland themselues alone, without any other, not so much as their Squires with them: long they had not gone, before they met three fine young Maides, apparreld after the Greeke manner, car∣rying each of them a basket, wherein were seuerall delicate fruites; the knight of the Forrest went to them, desiring to bee resolu'd of the manner of that place, and whether they could let them vnderstand any aduenture. The maides with much sweetnes, and modest fashion replied; They were but of meane Parentage, and not accustomed to such businesses, but (said they) this last night a braue Gentleman lay at our Fathers house, much complaining of the losse of a young Prince, called Dolorindus, Prince of Negropont, who lan∣ded here, and since was neuer heard of; much hee seemd to doubt his dan∣ger, and especially to feare Treason, the Lord of this Iland being indeed the most cruell, and treacherous man breathing; old, and yet so ill, as his white haires haue gaind that colour from black, since he practised villany, for these fortie yeares plotting nothing, but the destruction of braue Knights, and de∣licate Ladies, of which hee hath store in his Castle, where in darke and vgly prisons he continues them, onely letting them haue light when he sends for them, and sports himselfe in their torments: and this proceedes from no o∣ther cause, but out of a generall hate to all, where vertue liues, and beautie dwells. His wife of as sweet a condition, who is worne away to bare bones with meere hatefull fretting, to heare that any should liue inricht with good∣nesse. From this paire are brought a forth couple of as hopefull branches, as can proceede from so good stocks; their parents ill, which they haue bin ma∣ny yeares practised in to come to perfection, being fully flowing in them, so as they in this kind excell, hauing so many yeares fewer, and yet as much sinne in them, falshood, and all treason abounding, with ill nature in them: one of them being a Daughter, and the elder called Ramiletta, the most cun∣ning, dissembling, flattering, false Creature that euer sweete ayre suffered to breath in, without corrupting it with her poysonous treasons; the other a Sonne vilde, craftie, and beyond measure luxurious.

These three are now gone a iourney, whither I cannot tell you, but sure∣ly to some villanous purpose, brauely they are attended on, and richlie set forth, the old woman onely left behind with her practises to helpe if occasion serue, or by as much ill to rescue, if harme befall them. It was a glorious sight to see the braue furniture they had, delicate Hor∣ses and gallant troopes of Knights to the number of fiftie, besides foure, who were the fiercest and strongest of this Country, vgly and fearefull to behold, being Brothers, and called the terrible, being of stature little lesse then Giants; and indeed such, as surely for being so much aboue or∣dinarie stature were anciently termed so: a ioyfull sight this also was, for euery one reioyced so much at their going, as in great troopes the peo∣ple followed them to the sea, heartily wishing neuer to see them returne any more.

Hath there been no newes of them since (said the Knight of Loue? None (answered the Maides), nor will be we hope. But are there any pri∣soners remaining in his Castle (said he)? So the knight told my Father (said one of them) and wee are all certaine of it, if he put them not to death be∣fore his going, which I the lesse thinke, because his wicked mate so much

affects the like pleasure in torturing, as she holds them surely liuing of pur∣pose to delight her selfe. Will you fauour vs with the guiding vs to the Castle said Amphilanthus? withall our hearts, said they, if we were sure to bring you safe backe againe, but fearing that, we rather desire pardon, then to bee the meanes of bringing hurt to such Gentlemen. Let the hazard of that lye on vs, said the Knights, and the content to this Countrey, especially to your selues, when you shall see it freed from such Tyranny.

Much adoe they had to perswade the Maides, to conduct them; yet at last, they preuaild, and altogether went to the house of the Traytor, by the way eating of those fruits they had in their Baskets: within fewe houres they arriu'd within sight of the Castle, and drawing neerer they saw two Gentlemen fighting on the Bridge, but presently they lost the sight of one being falne. Then another aduanc'd himselfe who by that time that they came neere enough, to descry any thing done on the Bridge, they saw like∣wise betrayd by a false place in the Bridge, which they but comming on it strait opened, and as soone as they were fallen, shut againe; they of the house so well acquainted with it, as they easily auoided it.

They seeing this treason, hating deceit of any thing, stood conferring what they might doe to auoide this tricke, when as the man that comba∣ted the other two, came vnto them, curteously intreating them into the house, if it pleased them to enter without blowes: or if they would trie their forces, as all yet had done, he was the man that first would waite vpon them in that exercise.

They assuring themselues no good could be in that creature, who had be∣trai'd any, as curstly replied, as he had mildly (but craftily) spoken; telling him, that curtesie in Traytors must be as dangerous, as his kindnesse would proue, if they were so ignorant as to trust him, who they saw before their faces, had betraid two, who fought with him: wherefore they were resol∣ued to be so farre from receiuing his complement, as they would make him bring them to the surest entring into the Castle; which if hee refused, they would cut off his head. With which words they laid hands on him, and that but done, when with a loud and terrible voyce, hee gaue notice to them within of his danger, which brought out many to his succour, that place neuer being without some alwaies arm'd. They rushed all on the Knights, who brauely behaued themselues, making quicke worke amongst them: but then came more, and such numbers, as with their freshnesse and companies, they put the Knights more to their skill, then in long time they had been: yet they whose hearts were filled with true worth and valour, would not thinke themselues in hazard, but stil confident of victory, pursued their Enemies to the Bridge, who seeing their want of strength to master the three, gaue backe of purpose to win them to their snare: but soone did they find their deceit, so as auoiding the bridge, they scapt the plot, and got the knowledge of it; for they fearefull, and some vnskild, runne vpon the false place, which opened, they falling in: and the three knights seeing the place opened, discouer'd the breadth to bee no more, then one might stride ouer, so as they brauely ventur'd leaping ouer it and entred the gate.

Presently was a great cry and noise in the Castle, all now that could beare Armes running vpon the knights; and so did they perplex them, as they

forced them to take the benefite of putting their backs to a braue foun∣taine, which was in the midst of a square Court wherein they were. This gaue them ease and safetie, being sure to haue no hurt, but what they saw; thus they fought till none were left that durst fight with them.

Then stood they a while to breathe, and rest them, when showers of arrowes came vpon them out of the windowes, and from the battle∣ments; these vexed them more then any thing, not knowing what to doe against them, but onely couering themselues with their Sheilds, made them their defences, while they rested a little. But no sooner had they gained breath, but they ranne vp the stayres, and finding most of them women, yet cruell in that kind, and skilfull in shooting, they would not contend with them with their Swords, but running forcibly (in spite of their skill and continuall shots) within them, knowing no meanes to bee secure, the number being so great, were forced, for all their charita∣ble mind, to begin at home with that vertue, and for their owne good to hurt them; which in this manner they did, throwing such as they could lay hands on out of the windowes, pursuing the rest, who running from them, yet still gall'd them with their arrowes, such was their nimblenesse and cun∣ning, as they would shoote when they ran fastest. But at last they got the end of their trauell, with the end of them, most kill'd or brused with the fall, the rest throwing downe their bowes, and crauing mer∣cie.

But now came they to the place, where the spring of all mischiefe sate, the Mistrisse of wickednesse, and that Castle, in such distresse, because they were not distressed; as malice and all vices mixt together, could hardly bee the figure of this woman: but what could shee doe? All cunning now faild her, though she began with humilitie, fawning and flattringly begging life, succeeding with cursings, reuilings and threatnings: but all prospered alike; for they taking her, commaunded her to bring them where the Prisoners were. When shee saw no craft would preuaile, shee cast her hatefull looks vpon them, and by an vnlucky chance espying a Dagger at Ollorandus back, stept to him hastily, drawing it out, and as suddenly being vnmarkt, strake Amphilanthus (who was then looking from herward, carelesse of her) vn∣der his Armour, giuing him such a wound, as the bloud fell in great abun∣dance from him: but soone was that well reuenged, if her life were answe∣rable for such a mischance; yet did they keepe her aliue, till the Castle was setled, one drop of his bloud being more worth, then millions of liues of better people. Then she was terribly tortured, and yet kept long in paine for her more lasting punishment, and lastly burn'd.

By this were most dead or yeelded, all being safe, Amphilanthus was car∣ried into a rich chamber, where his wound was searched and drest by the three Sisters, who were now come into the Castle, brought in by Steriamus of purpose to dresse the Prince. Ollorandus being so perplext that it was his vnlucky fate to haue the weapon, that hurt his friend, as he was truly sorrow it selfe, euen being ready with it to haue parted his owne life from him, had not Amphilanthus coniured him by all loues, and friendships, and pro∣testations to forbeare.

Quickly did the Sisters assure them of his safety, which as a blessing came vnto them. After he was dress'd he sent his friend to fetch the Prisoners all before him, which was done, where were of Knights and Ladies such store, as (if in health and strength) there had beene a fit number for the fur∣nishing a braue Court, but as they were, it was a sight of commiseration, so pale, and weake they were with want of foode, and their bodies so abused with tortures, as they appeard like people of purpose made to shew miserie in extremitie. Among them was Dolorindus, whose owne minde, and this vsage, had brought him into a fit estate to answer his name. Amphilanthus knowing him, first tooke care of him, calling for his owne apparell which was brought, and causing delica••e foode to bee brought him, cheerished him so, as by that time that he was able to trauell for his wound, Dolorin∣dus was likewise fit to accompany him, which in few daies came to passe by the diligence and care of the three Sisters, who were next in true succes∣sion by the Mothers side, to the ancient Lords of Si••: their Father came vnto them with the Squires, to the Princes, and those of the Ship. Then prepared they for their departure, Amphilanthus bestowing the Castle and the Island vpon the Sisters, his kinde Chyrurgions, promising to send his faithfull and best esteemed seruant Berlandis to marry the eldest, as soone as he could finde him, and on the other two, Steriamus and Ollorandus be∣stowed their Squires, giuing them the Order of Knighthood, who well deseru'd it, prouing worthy of such Masters, making the world see, that such example as dayly their Master shewd them, must needs make braue men leauing that place in quiet, hauing taken the oathes of all the Inhabitants in Berlandis name, and his wiues. Then tooke they Ship againe for Morea, but passing along the AEgaean Sea, they entred many Islands, seeking and finding aduentures, but in one, being (though little) yet plentifull, as a grea∣ter, delicately compassed with Snow white Rocks, yet mixt with small fine trees, whose greenenesse gaue them hope to see, but pleasure gaue them heart to goe into it; when they found it within such a place, as a Louer would haue chosen to haue passed his time in, and this did vrge the foure Knights all amorous, and yet in seuerall kindes to expresse their passions se∣uerall waies.

Amphilanthus left the other three, taking the direct way to the heart of the Land, as euer ayming at that place, hauing the best, and most power con∣tinually ouer that part. Steriamus tooke on the right hand; Ollorandus to the left, but Dolorindus who neuer knew difference of fortune (still hauing li∣ued in a constant state of her displeasure) went away betweene them all, his thoughts (as euer in action) better being able to vtter forth his passions be∣ing alone, which in this kinde he did: when he came into a dainty fine wood of straight high Oakes, and young Beeches, mingled with a fewe Ashes, and Chestnut trees; in the mid••st of the Wood was a Mount cast vp by nature, and more delicate then Art could haue fram••d it, though the cunningest had vndertaken it, in the mid'st of it was a round Table of stone, and round a∣bout it Seats made of the same Stone, which was blacke Marble, some Let∣ters, or rather characters he found ingrauen in the vpper part of those seates, and on many of the Trees, which curiously incompassed it; & many Ciphers, althougth but one for meaning, though in number many; Louers had done

these as he thought; louers made him remember he was one, and that oft he had caru'd his Mistrisses name vpon Bay trees, to shew her conquest, which shee had requited, cutting his name in Willowes, to demonstrate his fate. This afflicted him, and moued so much in him, as hee could not but frame some verses in his imagination, which after were giuen to Amphilanthus, and his other companions; the lines were these, place and fortune procuring them.

SWeete solitarines, ioy to those hearts That feele the pleasure of Loues sporting darts, Grudge me not, though a vassall to his might, And a poore subiect to curst changings spite, To rest in you, or rather restlesse moue In your contents to sorrow for my loue. A Loue, which liuing, liues as dead to me, As holy reliques which in boxes be, Plac'd in a chest, that ouerthrowes my ioy, Shut vp in change, which more then plagues destroy. These, O you solitarinesse, may both endure, And be a Chirurgion to find me a cure: For this curst corsiue eating my best rest Memorie, sad memorie in you once blest, But now most miserable with the weight Of that, which onely shewes Loues strange deceit; You are that cruell wound that inly weares My soule, my body wasting into teares. You keepe mine eies vnclos'd, my heart vntide, From letting thought of my best dayes to slide. Froward Remembrance, what delight haue you, Ouer my miseries to take a view? Why doe you tell me in this same-like place Of Earths best blessing I haue seene the face? But maskd from me, I onely see the shade Of that, which once my brightest Sun-shine made. You tell me, that I then was blest in Loue, When equall passions did together moue. O why is this alone to bring distresse Without a salue, but torments in excesse? A cruell Steward you are to inrole My once-good dayes, of purpose to controle With eyes of sorrow; yet leaue me vndone By too much confidence my thrid so sponne: ••n conscience moue not such a spleene of scorne, Vnder whose swellings my despaires are borne. Are you offended (choicest Memorie), That of your perfect gift I did glorie? If I did so offend, yet pardon me. Since 'twas to set ••orth your true exclencie.

Sufficiently I thus doe punish'd stand, While all that curst is, you bring to my hand. Or, is it that I no way worthy was In so rich treasure my few dayes to passe? Alas, if so and such a treasure giuen Must I for this to Hell-like paine bee driuen? Fully torment me now, and what is best Together take, and mem'ry with the rest, Leaue not that to me, since but for my ill, Which punish may, and millions of hearts kill. Then may I lonely sit downe with my losse Without vexation, for my losses crosse: Forgetting pleasures late embrac'd with Loue, Lin••k'd to a faith, the world could neuer moue; Chain••d with affection, I hop'd could not change, Not thinking Earth could yeeld a place to range: But staying, cruelly you set my blisse With deepest mourning in my sight, for misse And thus must I imagine my curse more, When you I lou'd add to my mischiefs store: If not, then Memory continue still, And vex me with your perfectest knowne skill, While you deare solitarinesse accept Me to your charge, whose many passions kept In your sweet dwellings haue this profit gaind, That in more delicacie none was paind: Your rarenesse now receiue my rarer woe With change, and Loue appoints my soule to know.

When he had made this, and committed them to that keeper, who yet would not be perswaded to set him at liberty, but continued the more to molest him, like a soare that one beates to cure, yet smarts the more for beating. So did Memory abide with him: Then walk'd hee on to meete his friends, who were all in their kinds as much perplex'd as him••elfe. Amphilanthus alone, and so the abler to be bold in speech, began thus, walking (with his armes folded, louingly for loue, one within the other) along a sweet Riuer. Vnhappy man, sigh'd he, that liues to bee vexed with the same that once most delighted thee; who could haue thought in∣constancy a waight, if not to presse me on to more delight? Le•••• I till now a∣ny wherein change brought not vnspeakable content? When I tooke An∣tissia, thought I not I was happy in the change? When I before had alte∣red from and to that loue, did it not bring a full consent of blisse? But now that I haue changed, and for, and to the best, alas, how am I troubled? How afflicted? How perplexed? Constancie I see, is the onely perfect vertue, and the contrary, the truest fault, which like sinnes, intices one still on, of purpose to leaue one in the height: as the height of enioying makes one leaue the loue to it. I haue offended, all you powers of loue pardon me, and if there be any one among you, that hath the rule of truth, gouerne mee, di∣rect

me, and hencefoorth assure your selfe of my faith, and true subiection, error makes me perfect, and shewes me the light of vnderstanding. But what talke I of truth? Why commend I faith when I am vncertaine, whether these will winne? She alas, shee doth loue, and woe is mee, my hope's in this quite lost, shee loues, and so I see my end; yet neuer shall that come without a noble conclusion, and that, her eyes and eares shall witnesse with my losse. Dearest once pitty, my sad lookes, shall tell thee I doe loue, my sighes shall make thee heare my paines, my eyes shall let thee see (if thou wilt but see mee) that onely thy sight is their comfort; for when from thee they stirre, they must finde a new seat to turne in, and a head to dwell in, and so now they haue, for nothing see they but thy delicacy, nothing viewe but thy perfections, turne from all to thee, and onely turne vnto thee; My soule hath also eyes to see thy worth, Loue hath now fram'd me wholly to thy Lawes, command then, heere I breath but to thy loue, from which, when I doe swarue, let me loue vnrequited; but dearest be thou kinde, and then haue I all blisse. Why shouldest not thou leaue one, since for thee Ile leaue all? Be once vnconstant to saue me as 'twere from death, who for it will be true, I vow, and this vow still will keepe, that onely thou art wor∣thy and alone will I loue thee.

Then casting vp his eyes, he saw before him a rare meadow, and in the midst of it a little Arbour, as he so farre off tooke it to bee, but drawing neerer he found a delicate Fountaine cricled about with Orenge, and Pom∣granet trees, the ground vnder them all hard sand, about the Fountaine (as next adioyning) was a hedge of Iesamnis mingled with Roses and Wood∣bines, and within that, paued with pauements of diuers colours, plac'd for shew and pleasure; on the steps he sate downe beholding the worke of the Fountaine which was most curious, being a faire Maide as it were, thinking to lade it drie, but still the water came as fast, as it past ouer the dish she seemd to lade withall: and iust thus said hee, are my labours fruitlesse, my woes increasing faster then my paines find ease. Then hauing enough, as hee thought, giuen liberty to his speech, he put the rest of his thought into ex∣cellent verse, making such excelling ones, as none could any more imitate or match them, then equall his valour: so exquisite was he in all true ver∣tues, and skill in Poetry, a quallitie among the best much prized and estee∣med, Princes brought vp in that, next to the vse of Armes. When he had finished them, he sate a while still, then looking on the Fountaine, he said, Deare hopes spring as this water, flow to inioying like this streame, but wast not till my life doth wast in me; nay dye, runne to my Loue, and tell her what I feele; Say, and say boldly, till I knew her selfe I was but ignorant, and now doe know, that only she, and she alone, can saue or ruin•• me.

Many more, and far more excellent discourses, had he with himselfe, and such as I am altogether vnable to set down, therfore leaue them to be gues∣sed at by those who are able to comprehend his worth, and vnderstanding; such may expresse his passions, all else admire, and admiringl•• ••steeme so in∣comparable a Prince, who for a little while continued ••hus, but then leauing the Fountaine he went strait on, and followed on his way till he came vnto a Hill, the sides appearing rocky, the topp hee might discerne greene, and some trees vpon it; he by little and little climb'd to the topp, where in

the middle of it he saw a hole, and looking in at that hole perceiu'd fire a pretty way below it, and that fire as if it were stir'd by some hands, where∣upon hee concluded, that this was some poore abode of some miserable people, either made so by want or misfortune, which likewise might bee want, that being the greatest misery.

Round abo••t the top hee sought, but at last thought with himselfe, that there was no way to see the Inhabitants but by some way in the side of this Rocke, wherefore he went downe againe, and halfe about the Hill, when he found a little doore of stone, the euen proportion of the opening making him knowe it to be so, else nothing could haue disordered it, so close it was, appearing but like chinkes or clifts. He pull'd at it, but it would not stirre; then he knock'd, when straight a little window was opened, and out of it an vgly old Dwarfe looked, whose face was as wrinkled as the rocke, his complexion Sand-colour without so much red as to make a dif∣ference 'twixt his lips, and face; his haire had beene blacke, but now was growne grisled, yet still kept the naturall stubbornnesse of it being but thin, and those few haires desirous to be seene stood staring, neither were they of any equall length, but like a horses maine, new taken from grasse, which by the wantonnesse of some of his companions had beene bit, and natch'd in diuers places. Beard he had none, to distinguish his sexe, his habits being forc'd to speake for him to that purpose; onely a wart he had on his right cheeke, which liberally bestowed some haire according to the substance, for the sight of such as saw him. He was not onely a Dwarfe but the least of those creatures, and in some sort the ill-fauoured'st; this youth seeing Am∣philanthus, straight cryd, alas wee are betray'd, for heere is an armed man that will assuredly destroy vs.

The Prince promised on his word, he, nor any there should haue the lest harme, if he would let him but come in vnto him; the olde Dwarfe scarse knew how to trust, hauing before beene in his trust deceiu'd, wherefore he desired first to know who he was that gaue his word. The King answered, I am called, and knowne by the name of the Knight of Loue, but mine owne name, said he, is Amphilanthus. Praysed be heauen, said he, that you are landed here, for alas my Lord, I am your Subiect, miserably perplexed, by a cruell and tyranicall man, Lord of the Island of Strombolli, and who hath vndone me, and my children; then leap'd he from the window, and ope∣ned the dore which was made fast with many bolts of yron: the doore open the King went in, though with some difficulty at the entring, by rea∣son the place was low, & fitter for such a man as the Host, then the Romanian King. In the roome he found a woman, in height and louelinesse answera∣ble to the man, and three younger men then himselfe, but all of his propor∣tion, who seem'd to be his Sonnes. Then did Amphilanthus desire to know the cause of his complayning against the Lord of Strombolli, which the old Dwarfe began to relate in this manner.

May it please you, great Prince, to vnderstand, I am called Nainio borne in Strombolli to pretty possessions, the which I enioyed some yeares after my Fathers decease, but the Lord of the Iland, (or better to say, the Gouernor) passing that way, and seeing my liuing pleasant and delightfull, groues of O∣range, and Lemmon Trees, all other fruites plentif••lly yeelding themselues

for our vses, grew in loue with the place, and in hate with me; first, hee pe∣remptorily commanded mee to bring my wife, and these tall men my sonnes, to attend him, his wife and children. I that was borne free would not bee made a slaue; wherefore (I must confesse vnaduisedly) I gaue too rough an answere, that bred dislike, and gaue iust occasion against mee. Then sent hee for mee, made mee a scorne in the eyes of all men, and when hee had gloried enough in my miserie, scoffing at my shape and sta∣ture, saying, I would make a fit Commander against the Infidels, hee put mee, and my family into a little boate, and when shipping went for Greece, sent mee along with them: but such kindnesse I found among them, as they indeede carried mee, but brought mee backe againe; this was discouered, whereupon I was to die: but my pardon was got by the Lady, wife to the Lord, a vertuous and sweet Lady, on condition if euer I were found in Str••mbolli, or any part of Italy, I should die for it. Then went I away, and with the first mentioned Saylers got into this sea, and so vnto this Iland, where I haue remaind but in continuall feare; for considering the danger I was in for my life, it so with the memorie frights mee, as I had ra∣ther haue steru'd here, then gone hence for feare of harme, euerie one that I heare or see in this place being as a Sprite vnto mee, and so did you appeare, till you told me who you were, so much doe I yet stand in awe of the cruell Iland Lord.

The King smil'd to heare his discourse, but most to see his action, which was so timerous and affrighted, as neuer any man beheld the like; and as did, so did his Sons, like Munkeys, who imitating one another answer in ge∣stures as aptly and redily as one Ecco to another, and as like, and so the sport was doubled. Great delight did hee take in these little men; wherefore gently and mildly hee gaind so much of them, as they would with him leaue that place, conditionally that hee would not carry them into Italy, where they more feared their first enemie, then trusted to the power of the King, such a Lord is coward feare ouer base minds, as vnderstanding gaines small place in their hearts, as by this appeared, else might they haue been assured in his company in Strombolli it selfe.

But consents agreeing on both sides, they went out of the rocke to meete the other Princes, the Dwarfes quaking at euery leafe that shook, and fainted when they heard the Armour a little clash in his going; but directly they lost life for a while, when they met the other Knights, not being able to belieue they were their Lords friends. But after they grew more valiant, like a coward, who against his mind being brought into the middle of a bat∣taile, can neither runne, nor his cries bee heard, and therefore of force must abide that hell torment: So were these brought to it by sight of fights, when death could only haue relieued them from feare.

Amphilanthus following on, came to a great Caue, into which hee went, putting the Dwarfes before him; a great way they passed into it till hee came to a Riuer, which either was blacke, or the darkenesse of that shadowed place made appeare so: the vault was of height sufficient for him without trouble to walke in, and of breadth for three to goe a front, paued and couered round with free stone, when he came to the Riuer

he desired to passe it, but at first saw no meanes; at last he discouerd (or feare in his Dwarfes discouerd for him, they being able to discerne, hauing been long in the darke, which though at first it blindes like Loue, yet it giues at last fight to get out of it); so they found a board, which was fastned with chaines to the top of the Vault, and two pines of yron that held the chaines, being stuck into the wall; those being pulled out, the chaines let the Planke fall gently downe, iust crosse ouer the water, which was not aboue six yards ouer, but being on it, they might see a great way vp and downe the streame. Then passed they on to a doore which they opened, a pretie way along the same vault from the brook, and the end of it, thorow which they entred into a dainty Garden, and so into a faire Pallace of Alabaster, incompassed with Hilles, or rather Mountaines, of such height, as no way was possible to bee found to come at it, but thorow the same vault the King came. Diuers Gar∣dens and Orchards did surround this pallace: in euery one was a fountaine, and euery fountaine rich in art, and plentifully furnished with the vertue of liberalitie, freely bestowing water in abundance.

These places hee past, staying in a large stone Gallerie, set vpon pillers of the same stone; there hee sat downe, complaining still of his Mistrisse, whose heart was stored with paine and loue, equally oppressing her. O (cride he) my dearest loue, the sweetest cruell that euer Nature fram'd, how haue I mi∣serable man offended thee? that not so much as a looke or shew of pity will proceede from thee to comfort mee: are all thy fauours lockt vp, and onely sad countenances allotted mee? Alas, consider women were made to loue, and not to kill; yet you will destroy with cruell force, while I changed to a tender creature, sit weeping and mourning for thy crueltie, which yet I can hardly terme so, since thou knowest not my paine.

Further hee would haue proceeded, when a doore opened into that roome, and out of it came a graue Ladie, apparreld in a black habit, and many more young women attending her; shee straight went to him, salu∣ting him thus. Braue King, welcome to this place, being the abiding of your friend, and seruant. Hee looking vpon her, perceiued wisdome, mo∣destie, and goodnesse figured in her face; wherefore with a kind acceptance hee receiued this salutation, desiring to bee informed of the place, but most to know how he came knowne to her.

Sir (said shee) my name is Mellissea, and hauing skill in the Art of Astro∣logie, I haue found much concerning you, and as much desire to doe you seruice. Can you find good Madam (said hee), whether I shall bee happie in my loue, or not? In loue my Lord (said shee) you shall bee most happy, for all shall loue you that you wish: but yet you must bee crost in this you now affect, though contrarie to her heart.

But shall I not enioy her then? miserable fortune, take all loues from me, so I may haue hers. Shee loues you (said Mellissea), and it will prooue your fault if you lose her, which I thinke, you will and must; to preuent which, if possible, beware of a treacherous seruant. For this place, it is that ancient∣ly reuerenced, and honoured Iland of Delos, famous for the birth of those two great lights, Apollo and Diana; the ruines of Apollo's and Latona's Tem∣ples remaining to this day on the other side of that mountaine, called Cyn∣thus; once rich and populous, now poore and peoplelesse, none or very few

inhabiting here, besides this my family; the sharpe and cruell rockes which girdle this Iland, guarding it selfe and vs from dangerous robbings. But must I loose my Loue (said Amphilanthus)? Accursed fate that so should happen. I yet doe hope, if I may be assured shee loues mee, this will neuer bee.

Well my Lord (said shee) to let you see, that hope is too poore a thing in comparison of truth to trust to, I wil giue you these tokens, to make you truly see my words are true; you haue lately had a wound by a woman, but this a greater and more dangerous you must suffer, which will indanger your life farre more then that last did; yet shall the cause proceede from your owne rashnesse, which you shall repent when 'tis too late, and when time is past, know, the meanes might haue preuented it: but to doe what I may for your good, I aduise you to this; alter your determination for your iourney to Morea, and in stead of it, goe straight to Ciprus, where you must finish an Inchantment, and at your returne come hither, and with you bring that company that you release there, then shall I bee more able to aduise you, for this doth yet darken some part of my knowledge of you.

Hee remaind much perplext with those words; yet as well as such afflicti∣on would permit him, hee made shew of patience. Then did Mellissea send one of her Maides to bring his companions to him, hoping their sights, and the discourse of their fortunes would a little remoue his melancholie from him: in the meane time hee with crossed armes walkt vp and downe the Gallerie, musing in himselfe, how hee should so farre and deadlily fall out with himselfe, as to be the cause of his owne miserie, not being able, though hee had the best vnderstanding, to reach into this misterie. Sometimes the Lady discoursed to him, and he for ciuilitie did answere her; yet oft-times she was content to attend his owne leisure for his replie, so much power had his passions ouer him.

Thus hee remaind molested, while Steriamus following his right hand way, was brought into a fine plaine, and thence to the foote of a mountaine, where hee found rich pillers of Marble, and many more signes of some mag∣nificent building, which sight wrought pitie in him, remembring how glo∣rious they seem'd to haue been, now throwne downe to ruine; And so (said hee) was my fortune faire, and braue in shew, but now cast low to despaire and losse. O Pamphilia, Goddesse of my soule, accept mee yet at last, if not for thy seruant, yet for thy Priest, and on the Altar of thy scorne will I dai∣ly offer vp the sacrifice of true and spotlesse loue: my heart shall bee the of∣fering, my teares the water, my miserable body the Temple, and thy hate and cruellest disdaine, the enemy that layes it waste. Once yet consider, grea∣test beautie, mightiest riches, sumptuousest buildings, all haue some end; brightest glory cannot euer dure; and as of goodnesse, must not ill haue so? grant this, and then thy rage must needs conclude.

Yet thus, did not his paine find conclusion, but a little further hee went a∣mong those ruines, where hee laid himselfe not downe, but threw him∣selfe among those poore and destroyed reliques of the rarest Temples, where hard by hee heard Ollorandus likewise complaining. My Melasinda (said hee) how iustly maist thou blame thy Ollorandus, who still trauels further from thee, who stroue to bring thy loue still neerest to him?

Canst thou imagine thy immaculate affection well bestowed, when so great neglect requiteth it? Wilt thou, or maist thou thinke the treasure of thy loue, and richest gift of it well bestowed, when absence is the paiment to it? If against mee and these thou do'st but iustly except, yet what doth hold thee from killing that slaue, and setting thy deare soule at libertie? No, thy vertues will not like a murderer, it must bee as it is, Destiny must onely worke, and despairing sorrow tyre it selfe in me. Steriamus wanting pitie, knew the misse, and therefore would bee as charitable as hee could: to shew which goodnesse, he rose, and went to Ollorandus to put him from his mour∣ning, who was then againe entring into his waylings, telling him, they were too long from Amphilanthus. As hee start vp, behold Dolorindus, who came sadly towards them, whom they called to them, and so together went from that place, meaning to ascend the mountaine: but then came the seruant of Mellissea to them, intreating their companies from her Mistrisse to the Pal∣lace, where they should meete their companion. They soone consented to that inuitation; whither being come, they told all their aduentures one to another; then were they brought into a faire roome, where after they had eaten, Mellissea againe thus spake.

My Lords, the time calls vpon you, occasions being such, as your pre∣sences are required in seuerall places: wherefore first to you my Lord Ste∣riamus I must say, you must haste hence, and as you desire your owne happie ends in loue, obserue what I aduise you. Goe from hence into Arcadia, feare not, for nothing shall encounter you of harme. Dolo∣rindus, doe you the like, for much is your being there requisite: from thence goe to Saint Maura, and in a rocke which lies iust against it to∣wards Cephalonia, priuately remaine till fortune call you thence by helpe, which shall appeare death; this may seeme hard and terrible, but feare it not, since it shall bring your happinesse; then goe into Greece againe, and helpe your friends, and your selfe in the Conquest of Albania. They tooke her hand, and kist it, on it swearing to obey her Coun∣sell. Amphilanthus was sorry for his vow, especially that his iourney was staid to Morea: but hee made the cause of his griefe, for parting with his friends.

Then to Ollorandus shee thus spake: The good that shall come to you must proceede from this braue King, who shall giue vnto you both securitie of life, and your onely loue: life hee shall venture for you, and saue yours by the hazard of himselfe: keepe then together, and still be your loues firme and constant, assisting one another; for a time will bee, when you shall merit this from Amphilanthus, giuing him as great a gift. And credit what I say; for it is as true, as by my meanes you receiued the Armour in the Forrest, when you were fast sleeping, it be∣ing laid by you, from which you haue taken the name of Knight of the For∣rest. For you my Lord, thinke not but I am as carefull, or more of you then any, though I haue left you last; for as yet I can say little: but feare nothing except what I haue already warnd you of; my Art shall attend you, and I neuer faile to serue you, make haste then to Cyprus, and be carefull. Then all promising to performe her will, with teares in their eyes they tooke leaue of each other.

Steriamus and Dolorindus demanding what seruice Amphilanthus would com∣mand them. He answered, They should honor him much in remembring him to the King and Queene, to whom by Steriamus hee sent the olde Dwarfes, and the youngest Sonne called after his Fathers name, hee de∣sired Dolorindus to present to Pamphilia from him.

Thus they parted, and Amphilanthus, Ollorandus, and the other two dwarfes who seru'd them for Squires, tooke their way for Cyprus. Quicke was the iourney of the other two, arriuing in Laconia, and so hasting to Mantinea, where then the King was; but being neere, Steriamus began to faint, fea∣ring the sight of her, he most desired to see, yet incouraged by Dolorin∣dus to performe what he had ingaged his word to doe, they went on, com∣ming to the Court, when the King, and all the Princes were assembled to iudge the Traytors. But Steriamus whose same was now farre spread for his noble Acts at Constantinople, and diuers others, was soone knowne in the Hall, and as soone with great ioy brought before the King, to whom he deliuered the Present, and seruice of Amphilanthus.

The King infinitly reioyced to heare of his braue friend, and taking the Dwarfe (the Queene with as much loue accepting the other) desired be∣fore they passed to the Iudgement to heare of their aduentures. Then did Steriamus openly relate all, that had happened him after his depart, vntill their comming thither, in so good words and Princely a maner, as all ad∣mired, and loued him; especially, for doing it with such affection, and truth, to the eternall renowne of incomparable Amphilanthus. Then presented he Dolorindus to the King, whose name and presence was welcome to at that time; especially, assuring himselfe now to haue an end and true knowledge of the Traytours, who were lead (at their comming in) aside, so as they neither sawe them, nor heard the relation of the aduenture at Sio, which was extreame strange, and wondred at by all, the more the cause of admiration was, the more still increased their honours that atcheiued it. Then went the Princes to Pamphilia, who much commended Steriamus for his discourse, kindly of Dolorindus, accepting the Dwarfe, promising to loue him for his Lords sake: then were all placed againe, Rosindy taking Ste∣riamus, and setting him betweene him and his friend Selarinus, who was true ioy it selfe to see Steriamus againe, the traytors then entr••d, to whom the King thus spake.

Without any more falshood, truly declare vnto me who you are, and your true names, for those you tooke vpon you, I know are false: then discouer the cause of taking my daughter, deale truly, if any pitie be expected by you, to be shewed vnto you. The old man curstly replied, Hee wondred a King should haue so ill a conceit of another of his owne ranke, as to thinke fals∣hood could be in a royall breast, and more did he admire that the King of Morea who before had beene counted iust, would offer that iniustice to the King of Negropont, who hauing beene ill vsed by an vngratefull Childe, and comming thither for succour should be made a Prisoner like a Trai∣tor, and vsed like theeues.

Then answered the King, behold my Lords before you the vildest of men, and falsest of Traitors; to proue which Dolorindus stand forth and wit∣nesse against him; Dolorindus indeed came foorth, the Traytor seeing him,

straight too well knew him; wherefore roring out hee cryed, I am vndone, for now all is betray'd. Then did Dolorindus againe tell the manner of his trecherous taking, and imprisoning him, and withall the winning, and de∣stroying of the Castle, and his seruants; the burning of his wicked wife, and the bestowing of the Island vpon Berlandis, and the other two their Squires, whom they had matched to the three Sisters. These creatures be∣ing past helpe to be saued, fell downe on their faces, confessing the truth, which was this.

The Sonne to this wicked man seeing the picture of Pamphilia, which was sent some two yeeres before by Pamphilia to her Vncle, but taken away by Pirats who after landed at Sio, and among other things sold that. He fell in loue with it, and so longed to enioy her, as nothing but death appear'd in him; which the deuill his Father perceiuing, plotted all waies hee could; to which end, he inuented that false Bridge, hoping to get some of her bro∣thers or friends, if not, some that might bring them meanes to finde a tricke to gaine her.

Tenn monethes this continued, then came the poore Dolorindus, who by Treason they got, and hauing heard his Story, which almost was the same he told for himselfe, onely this differing, that the Kingdome was not giuen by affection to the daughter, but by right, as being a gift giuen by the Grand∣father to his Daughter, and her first borne, which happened to be a Daugh∣ter, and so shee elder, put Dolorindus by. The rest was true of her ill deser∣uing, but the Father righted by his Sonne, by a Combate against two migh∣tie men was deliuered from prison, she put downe from gouenment and committed to his Prison, where shortly after she died.

This Story the wicked man made his owne, and his Sonne tooke the name of braue Dolorindus, forging the rest, and making that deceitfull Cha∣riot of purpose to betray the Princesse whom they purposed to haue carri∣ed with them to Sio, and to keepe her by that Treason against all, at least the amorous Louer should haue had his desire.

This being confess'd, and hee no Prince, but an vsurping Lord of other mens rights, and a Kings, and Princes honour, they were all condemn'd and executed according to the Archadian Law. Now is the time of Steriamus de∣parting come, and also for Dolorindus who taking their leaues of the King, and Court, promised Rosindy, and Selarinus to meete them soone after in Macedon; kissing Pamphilia's hand once more to blesse his lips with the last affectionate kisse, hee can euer haue from her, or giue to her, hee departed with his friend towards Snt. Maura, perplexed in soule, loue working more terribly, now then euer, like that killing disease which parts not but with life: and so was this sicknesse come now to the height in him. A little lesse case felt Antissia, who now must soone leaue Morea; the Abmassadour re∣couered of his hurts, and others chosen to goe in Commission with him concerning the forces, being the two braue Princes of Corinth, and Elis, Brother to the proud louer of Parselius, who hee met as you haue heard. More honourably Antissia could not be accompanied, and since shee must goe, 'twas thought fit she went with them.

The day before she was to goe, not hauing all night taken any rest, she rose earlyer then shee was accustomed, and sooner then any was stirring

shee came into Pamphilia's Chamber, who she found sweetly sleeping, but drawing the curtaine she awaked, and seeing her, wondred what occasion had call'd her vp so soone, and at that houre to bee dress'd, wherefore shee said, why, what disturbance, sweet Antissia, hath thus rais'd you? What dis∣quiets molested you? Can your thoughts affoord you no more rest? Or, is it ioy for your departure, makes you thus early, and takes away that dull hu∣mour of sleepe from your spirits? Ioy to part? O me, reply'd she weeping. No Pamphilia, my heart doth breake to thinke of it, my soule is tortur'd so, as it enioyes no peace for griefes additions.

The losse of your company is much more to mee, said the Princesse; for you gone, who shall I haue the blessing to conuerse withall? With whom, or to whom may I freely say my minde? To whom speake my paine? To whom waile my misfortunes? Thus is the losse most in me; for you goe to your Nephew, where you soone will see your loue, while I lamenting, spend my time I am to tarry here; which since you goe will seeme ages to mee.

Why will you be thus cruell, most sweet Pamphilia said shee, to add vnto my torments, by the expression of your fauour to me? I shall goe 'tis true, to my Nephew, rather to content him then my self, since what wil his Court be to mee, when I shall bee in the Dungeon of Despaire? For seeing my Loue, much hope I haue, when he fauours me not so much, as by these Prin∣ces to send one poore remembrance, to let me know hee thinkes on such a soule; a soule indeede, wonne, and loft by him, who now despises the me∣mory of her, who disdained not to loue, and serue him, and who I know, suffers in honor for him: but let her suffer, and be he as vngratefull as he will, I yet must loue so much as to lament his losse. But me thought you touch'd euen now of parting, whither, rare Lady, will you goe? Or what quarell haue you to poore Morea, to leaue it desolate, as so it must be when you forsake it? I shall leaue it but for a while, said she, and then it will be freer, and safer from afflictions, when the most afflicted shall bee absent from it. Goe I must with mine Vncle, to be seene to the Pamphilians, and acknow∣ledged their Princesse; which Countrey my Vncle in his youth (being as braue and valiant a man as euer breathed) wonne from the subiection of Tyrants; in requitall whereof the people chose him their King, their loue being then so great, and still continuing, as they haue giuen him leaue to choose his Successor, which by reason he neuer marryed, had else falne to them againe for choice. He long since chose me, and to that end gaue mee that name: but hee growing old, or rather weake, and they desirous to know me, gain'd of him to make this voyage for me, with whom I doe returne speedily, and now reioyce in the soone comming of it, since you and I must part.

O name not that word, great Princesse, sigh'd shee, but rather spend this little time in such content as our hearts can permit vs, disposing these houres to a more pleasing purpose, pray therefore rise, and goe into the solitary wood, where we may vnheard, and vnperceiu'd, better discourse our woes, saddly, and freely complaining. I will euer yeeld vnto your desires, said Pamphilia: then goe you before, and I shall soone follow you. Antissia left her, taking the way to the Walkes. Pamphilia got vp, and as shee was

making her ready, her passionate breast scarce allowing her any respite from her passions, brought these Verses to her mind, wherein shee then imprinted them.

DEare Loue, alas, how haue I wronged thee, That ceaselesly thou still dost follow me? My heart of Diamond cleare, and hard I find, May yet be pierc'd with one of the same kind, Which hath in it ingrauen a loue more pure, Then spotlesse white, and deepe still to endure, Wrought in with teares of neuer resting paine, Caru'd with the sharpest point of curs'd disdaine. Raine oft doth wash away a slender marke, Teares make mine firmer, and as one small sparke In straw may make a fier•• so sparkes of loue Kindles incessantly in me to moue; While cruelst you, doe onely pleasure take, To make me faster ty'd to scornes sharpe stake, Tis harder, and more strength must vsed be To shake a tree, then boug••es we bending see: So to moue me it was alone your power None else could ere haue found a yeelding hower Curs'd be subiection, yet blest in this sort, That 'gainst all but one choice, my heart a fort Hath euer lasted: though beseig'd, not mou'd, But by their misse my strength the stronger prou'd Resisting with that constant might, that win They scarce could parly, much lesse foes get in. Yet worse then foes your sligh••ings proue to be, When careles you no pitie take on me. Make good my dreames, wherein you kind appeare, Be to mine eyes, as to my soule, most deare. From your accustomed strangenesse, at last turne; An ancient house once fir'd, will quickly burne, And wast vnhelp'd, my long loue claimes a time To haue aid granted to this height I clime. A Diamond pure, and hard, an vnshak't tree A burning house find helpe, and prize in mee.

Being ready, she went into the Garden Woods, where shee saw Antissia sadly walking, her eyes on the earth, her sighes breathing like a sweet gale claiming pitie from aboue, for the earth she said would yeeld her none, yet she besought that too, and at last passion procured alteration from mourning, she began to sing a Song, or rather part of one, which was thus.

STay mine eyes, these floods of teares Seemes but follies weakely growing, Babes at nurse such wayling beares, Frowardnesse such drops bestowing: But Ni••be must shew my fate, She wept and grieu'd her selfe a state.

My sorrowes like her Babes appeare Daily added by increasing; She lost them, I loose my Deare, Not one spar'd from woes ne're ceasing: She made a r••ck, heauen drops downe teares, Which pitie shewes, and on her weares.

Assuredly more there was of this Song, or else she had with her vnframed and vnfashioned thoughts, as vnfashionably framd these lines. But then Pamphilia came to her, saying; Sweete Antissia, leaue these dolorous com∣plaints, when wee are parted, let o•••• hearts bleed teares: but let vs not de∣priue our selues of this little comfort•• at least, let vs flatter our selues, and thinke wee now feele some; and when absence makes vs know the contrary, then mourne. Alas (said Antissia) I foresee my harme, my Spirit tells mee once being gone, gone will my ioyes bee altogether: sadnesse will presage any thing (said Pamphilia), especially where that may procure more sadnesse; melancholy, the nurse of such passions being glad, when her authoritie is esteemd, and yeelded to: and so much hath it wrought in me, as I haue many houres sate looking on the fire, in it making as many sad bodies, as children, do varietie of faces, being pleased, or displeased, or as mine owne fancies haue felt paines, and all this was but melancholy, and truely that is enough to spoile any, so strangely it growes vpon one, and so pleasing is the snare, as till it hath ruind one, no fault is found with it, but like death, embraced by the ancient braue men, like honour and delight. This I haue found and smarted with it; leaue it then, and nip it in the bud, lest it blow to ouerthrow your life and happinesse, for my sake bee a little more chearefull, and I will promise you, when you are gone, I will as much bewaile absence.

Antissia tooke her hand, and though against her will kissed it, saying; Ad∣mired Princesse, let your poore vnfortunate friend and seruant, bee in ab∣sence but sometimes remembred, with a wish to see her with you, and that will bring an vnspeakable content to that distressed creature, on whom for∣tune tries her curstest power in despitefull rage, and cruelty. Doubt not me more deare Antissia (said shee), for those wishes shall bee, and attended with others for your happinesse, then distrust not me for Pamphilia must bee iust.

Thus in kind discourse they continued, promising to each other, what was in loue demaunded to demonstrate their affections, till it was time to retire. Little meate that Dinner serued them, whose hearts had filled their Stomacks with loue and sorrow: after Dinner, going againe to that

sad place that night being the last, lying together, and with sad, but louing discourse passing those darke houres day being loath to see Antisius teares, but greiu'd, and afraid to see Pamphilia weepe, did hide her face till the Sunne greedy of so pretious, and sweete a dew looking red, with hast came into the roome, where they blushingly ashamed so to bee surprized, put on their clothes, not to be in danger of his heate.

No sooner were they ready, but Antissia was call'd for, who the sweetest Lady accompanied to her Coatch with maine teares, and sad, because part∣ing kisse, taking leaue of each other, Antissia by her sorrow foretelling her comming, or indeed but shewing her already befallen losse, Pamphilia was sorry for her going, because she was now assured of her loue: the Court did in generall lament, such loue and respect she had gain'd by her courteous and sweete behauiour, many wishing her married to Parselius, that so they might still keepe her with them, so many well wishes she had, as surely made her iourney more prosperous, for safety; and speedily (considering the way) shee arriued at Constantinople, being louingly, and kindly entertayned by the King, and affectionatly by her Vncle, whose ioy was greatest knowing what hazard she had suffer'd, ayming now at nothing more then how to get the braue Leandrus to performe what before was determined betweene their Parents.

She gone, preparation was made for the iourney of Pamphilia, rich Cha∣riots, Coaches, furniture for Horses, and all other necessary things that could bee demanded for seruice, or state; the Liueries for her seruants be∣ing of the same colours the Cha••••ots, and other furnitures were, and them all of her owne chosen colurs, which were Watchet and Crimson, as the Chariots were Watchet, embroydred with Crimson and purle of Sil∣uer, one with Pearle, all the rest alike. The King and Queene did accompany her to the sea-side, al the other Princes bringing her aboord, and there kissing her hands.

Thus away she went sailing with gentle and pleasant wind, till the Pilate told the king, that a great fleet followed them, by their colors, and the shapes of the ships, shewing they were Italians. Wherefore they not knowing the businesse prepared for the worst; when they perceiued out of the greatest and fairest of these ships, Knights vnarmd, and Ladies armd with beauty, able to conquer worlds of hearts, to issue, and enter a delicate Galley, which straight made way by oares towards them.

The King seeing it, and Pamphilia being aboue any Princesse courteous, commanded their ship to strike saile, least harme might befall them in their comming aboord. Straight came they into the ship, the first and chiefe of those Knights with a graue, and manly fashion, deliuering these words hol∣ding a Lady (most exact in all perfections) by the hand. Most incomparable Princesse, the fame of whose worth the world is fild withall, and yet wants a∣nother to be able to comprehend the fulnesse of it. Be pleased to know, that this Lady and my selfe are your deuoted Seruants, Perissus and Limena of Ce∣cillia, rescued and saued from ruine and death by your magnanimious bro∣ther Parselius, to whom we were now going to manifest our gratefulnesse to him, but hearing by a ship which came from Morea, iust as we were putting a shore, that the Prince is neither there, nor hath been of sometimes heard of,

withall of your iourney, we resolued to attend you, and to you doe the ser∣uice we owe him, which by him I know will be a like taken, as to himselfe; such is his affection to you, such admirable perfections liuing in him, as loue, and affection to his friends are plentifully flourishing in him; wherefore we beseech you to accept of our affectionate seruices, which shall euer (next to Parselius) bee most deuotiouslie obseruing to your commands. Him wee loue for his vertues, and the benefits wee haue receiued from him; you were loue for him and your owne merits, whose name doth duly claime all eies, and hearts to loue and admire.

Pamphilia, whose modesty neuer heard her owne commendations with∣out blushing, pretily did now expresse a bashfulnesse, but her speech deli∣uered with confidence shewed those words, nor the speaker of them neede for them blush, they were these.

Braue and renowned King, of whose vertues mine eares haue long since been witnesse; bee pleased to heare your seruant say, shee doth blesse her eyes, that presents such worth vnto them, and esteeme this as my chiefest happinesse, that for the first encounter in my iourney, fortune fauours mee with the meeting of such excellent Princes, in whom are all the powers of true worthinesse, that can be in either, or both sexes; and in you most happy Queene, the rare vertue of matchlesse and loyall constancy; and much doe I blesse my destine thus to enioy your companies, which Parselius shall thanke you for, and I him for you.

Then she presented them both to her Vncle, who kindly welcom'd them, being glad such royall company would ••ttend his Neece to honour her Co∣ronation, which he meant should be with all speed after their arriuall, he de∣termining to retire to a religious house, he had built to that purpose. Thus with happy and pleasant content she sailed towards Pamphilia, while Parseli∣us all this while continuing in sweet delight, it is now fit time to let him see his fault committed in the greatest kind of ill, being breach of faith in loue.

One night in his sleepe, Vrania appeared vnto him, seeming infinitely per∣plexed, but as if rather fild with scorne, then sorrow, telling him, hee was a Traytor to loue, and the subtillest betrayer of truth. Now may you ioy said she in your sha••e and change, your cruell falshood hauing vndone my trust, but thinke not this troubles me farther, then for vertues sake; so farre are you now from my thoughts, as I study how I neuer more may heare of you; and to assure you of this, you shall see me giue my selfe before your face, to another more worthy, because more iust. This in soule so grieued him, as he cried, sobd, groand, and so lamentably tooke on, as the kind Dalinea lying by him awaked, hauing much adoe to bring him out of his wofull dreame. But when he recouered his sences, they were but to make him more truly feele paine, continuing in such extremitie of weeping, as she feared his heart would breake withall, which made her heart euen rend with compas∣sion. Much shee intreated, and euen besought him to tell her the cause, but this of any secret must bee kept from her; shee begged, hee continued in laments, till at last he saw hee must not leaue her thus in feare. Wherefore after hee had a little studied how to bee more deceit∣full, or as equally as he had bin before, weeping still, and she accompanying

him in teares seeing his fall so fast; which hee finding made him weepe the more, both now kindly lamenting each other, they remayned the most perfect soules of affliction, that euer had earthly bodyes about them. Compassion he had in great fullnesse to Dalinea, torment for Vrania's scorne•• affliction for her losse, hatefull loathing his fault, condemning himselfe more ••ruelly then she would haue done, all ioyning as it were for his vtter de∣struction; yet remain'd hee in his bed, framing this excuse to satisfie his wife, telling her that he imagined hee saw all Arcadia on fire, the earth flaming, and in the mid••st his father burning, who with lamentable cryes demanded helpe of him; wherfore said he, certainely some ill is befallen, or befalling him, which makes me resolue instantly to goe vnto him. O take me with you, said she. My deere, said he, pardon at this time my leauing you, for should I carry you where troubles are? no, Sweet, remayne you here, and be assur'd, you soone shall heare of your Parselius, and if all be well, in short time Ile returne for you; besides, our mar••yage not yet knowne may wrong you if not carefully carryed: then deere loue bee patient, and stay heere.

She could not deny, for words fail'd her, only she sob'd, and washed his face with her teares, who was as much afflicted. Then rising he sent her Maides vnto her, and so departed to his chamber, where he arm'd himselfe: then being ready to goe to her, hee thought the word or shew of farwell, would but giue new wounds, wherfore writing some few lines, he deliuer'd them to the Steward, & so with charge to giue the letter to her owne hands, he tooke his horse, hasting he knew not whither, regarding neither way nor any thing else; then came he to the Sea side, his Squier nor daring to speake one word to him all that iourney; when he sent Clorinus (so was he cald) to prouid a boat for him, he thought it not fit to deny, nor durst he venture to councell. In the meane time came a little Barque, into which he went, tur∣ning his horse loose, not considering what griefe & trouble might come for his misse. But he who sought for death, thought of no earthly content: he be∣ing in, they put againe from the Land, and at Clorinus returne, were quite out of sight. He finding his Masters horse without his Lord, fell into pittifull complayning not being able to guesse other then the worst mishappe: long he was resoluing what to doe, but in conclusion hee vowed to spend his life in solitary search of him, and so to dye; but by no meanes to goe to Dalinca, nor to bee an ill newes bringer to his Parents. Heauily and afflictedly hee pass'd on by the Sea side, till hee mette the Squier of Leandrus, who ioyfully asked him for his Lord, hee as sadly replied, he had lost him; then followed Leandrus who knowing the youth asked for his friend, but to him hee could make no answer but in teares. Sraight feare possessed him, the youth still wept, Leandrus sigh'd, and taking him aside coniured him to tell what he knew of his Lord.

Then did hee relate all vnto him, hiding onely what might touch Dalinea; this much mooued the Prince, yet he sought to comfort Clo∣rinus, telling him, he did not see by this, any other harme likely to follow but some priuat grief had made him take this course, and therfore willed him by any meanes to make no busines of it, but goe and seek him as carefully as hee could; aduising him by reason of his loue, which he knew he bare to Vrania,

to goe to Ciprus, least thither hee were gone to try the enchantment. Thus they parted, Leandrus much greiued for Parselius, not indeed being able to iudge of the matter, yet tooke hee a good courage to him, as a hap∣pie foretelling of his friends safetie, and so tooke his way to Dalineas Castle, whom he found in as much molestation, as euer louing, and faithfull wife, felt for the absence of her husband. But when shee saw her Brother, the ioy of that, and her iudgment contending with her passion, made her hide it so well, as he only beleeued she had beene ill of a feauer, which was true, but twas the Hectique feauer of loue; Some dayes hee tarryed there, all which time she held in good order: but he once gone, she fell into the most dolorous, and vnsufferable passions, that violence in violent loue could produce.

Parselius with a hartlesse body and wounded soule, neuer asking whither they carryed him, nor speaking one word, held on till they landed him in an Iland which they knew, so going away from them, he sought the most ob∣scure place he could, but finding now none sad enough desiring to outgoe Perissus in his desolate liuing, which made him againe remember the hap∣pinesse he had in the finding Vrania, for whom he now suffers, was assaulted with a new kind of sorrow, yet all but running to the end of torturing him, embracing memory for telling him all her perfections, as if the fault, the miserie of her rage, the misfortune of her losse, were not enough to perplexe him, but he must needs add memory as a plague of his owne bringing, and cherishing. Then did he wish he were in that Iland, and that he might spend his daies in the same rocke, and that it might likewise include his miseries, cursing his indiscretion, that suffered the Ship to goe away before shee had conuayd him thither; then seeking for some other Barque that might doe it, he ranne to the Sea againe, where he found a little boate, and in her an old Hermitte, with him he would goe, nor could the old Father disswade him. To a Rocke they came being a prettie way within the Sea, where being lan∣ded, the old man ledd the way vp to the toppe, where it seem'd there had beene anciently a Temple of great state, and bignesse, as yet by the ruines did appeare: among those sad places the Cell of this good man was made, with this religious man, & in this solitary place he resolu'd to end his daies think∣ing he could not doe better then hide his face, which euen himselfe was a∣shamed of, for hauing committed so execrable an offence.

Then sate they downe together, the old Hermitt consenting to his stay at last, but something against his will, at first he tooke him, and he happy (if that word may be vsed in that miserie, where happines, nor content, or any thing but afflictions are) but vse what terme you wil to this, here he stayd, & being set they tould their owne stories to each other, Parselius beginning.

Aged and graue Father, giue mee leaue by way of confession to tell you my wofull life, which being so deliuered claymes secresie of it selfe, did not your goodnesse otherwise warrant mee that from you. My name is Parselius, borne (in an vnhappy houre, and vnder a cursed plannet) in Morea, Prince therof, and of all miseries, my possessions so largely extending in that continent, as none hath a more mightie inheritance. I was bred much at Athens, yet could I learne no way to avoyd misfor∣tune, but how to bee subiect to it I was most apt, humilitie to subiecti∣on

raigning more in mee then rule. My trauells I beganne (as likewise all my good) with a Cosin of mine, also bred there, and for the only happy∣nesse I euer tasted, We ••ent sometime together in the search of one, who I ass••••e my selfe I haue found, and with the finding lost my selfe, hauing before that parted from my friends, to the most excellent (and in tha•• my sinne the mor•• excelling) I came into an Iland where I found, her, whose beauty excelled all things but her mind, which yet beautified that•• else ma••chlesse body, with her I fell in loue, and loued her earnestly: vil∣laine ••hat I ••ay, I lou'd, and so proue by the change, my fault, much more that I must say I euer lou'd her who (sweetest Creature) beleeuing me, that then was iust, went with leauing that Iland where she was bred, trusting me who haue deceiued her.

Many dangers we pass••d, she in all of them fearing nothing but my harm••, who since haue brought the greatest to her: at last a storme tooke vs when wee were as we thought safe, and in sight of Ital••, and wherin we might haue landed, but desteny otherwise appoynted for vs. This tempest brought vs from ioy and comfort to despaire and losse; for wee were carryed (in the many daies that it endured) to Ciprus, where landing, by wicked charmes our shippe burned, and wee were forced to goe vp into the Iland for succour.

Then arriued we at an inchaunted Palace, made of purpose for my de∣struction, wherein Vrania is inclosed, shee whom once I did best loue, who ought still to haue beene best loued, and shee for whose losse in my fals∣hood thus tormenteth mee, thence parted I depriued of all sense, but, by leauing that Land came againe into them to bee more vexed with them; a while (and wretch, too small a while,) lamenting her imprisonment, and my want which willfully, I caus••d to be no longer want, but direct losse.

O fault vnpardonable, why doe I liue to confesse it? and shame in mee, not quite deuouring me: but I who was borne to ill, ledd by the seruants of Hell, or Hell it selfe conspiring my ruine, brought me into Achaia, and so into the power of vild change.

There I saw Dalinea daughter to the King of Achaia, shee blinded not alone mine eyes with admiration, but my iudgement, blotting out & force∣ing my memory to bee treacherous to me, made me forget all thoughts of my more deseruing loue, and truth it selfe: letting mee see nothing but desire of her loue, she vertuous (and too perfect for such a worthlesse Crea∣ture as my selfe) could but allowe of vertuous yeelding, I to enioy, gran∣ted any thing, and so I marryed her, with whom I remain'd some while as happy as any blessing in a wife could make mee, and yet in that am most vnblessed, not being able to continue in that happy state of still enioying her, too great a portion of good for mee, (wretched man) to haue. For one night I saw Vrania in my sleepe appeare vnto me, or better to say, my conscience taking the aduantage of my bodyes rest, the hatefull enemie to the soules blisse, and in that quiet shewed vnto mee, my deerest shep∣herdesse iustly ••ccusing me, and condemning mee. I had no way to e∣scape, if not by this meanes; I rose, I left Dalinea for Vrania's fury, whose sweete substance I lost for Dalinea's loue, I haue now left both, both

ini••r'd, both afflicted by me. Why should I then continue such an aff••••cti∣on to the rarest of women? and a vexation to the worst, as I am vnto my vnblessed selfe, Assist me•• good Father, in my mi••ery, this is truth I haue told you, and more then ought to liue on earth or I hope can be found a∣gaine; wherfore that as all ill is in mee, I desire, nay, couet to end, that the world may be no longer infected with that plague, but as knit in me, that knot may neuer be vnty'd, but end, and conclude with me.

Then wept he, as if it had beene to satisfie a drought with rayne, sheding teares in such abundance, as they left that name, to be more properly tear∣med little streames.

Well, it was that the Sea was the place of receiuing those springs, which from the Rocke ranne into her, which in madnesse of despaire hee would once haue followed, offring to tumble into her; the old man striuing with him, stayd him, who had lost all power to resist, greife hauing taken away his strength, and in place of it giuen him only might, in weakning passions, working for their glory to destroy. Then did the aged Hermitte comfort him, chiding him for his wilfull sinne, in seeking to murther himselfe. Re∣ligiously hee wrought vpon his fury, so as he brought him to a more peace∣able bearing his afflictions, but not to any more easie.

This storme a little quieted (as after a tempest of Thunder, a shower of raine is thought little) the good man to passe the time began his story, the relation wherof gaue some liking to Parselius.

But because the Drums beate, and Trumpets sound in Morea for the re∣leife of Macedon, and the braue conquest of Rosindy, the Hermitts discourse must a little stay, while warrs, the noblest, because profess'd by the noblest, take a little time for them. The time come for the Armies marching, braue Rosindy tooke his iourney with his most noble companions: hee Generall, Selarinus Generall of the Horse, the Prince of Corinth and Elis, had their places reserued for them, as Serieant Maior, & Commander of the Archers; Many braue Knights and bold men went along some out of loue, some for ambition, some for honor, many for preferment. The rendeuous was at Cariapaiary in the Confines of Macedon, not farr distant from the Riuer De∣••oda, where they met the Romanian Armie led by Lisandrinus as desired, but with it came Antissius to see the braue warrs, and to receiue Knighthood of Amphilanthus, who not being there, hee soone left the Army to find him out, promising when he had from him receiued that honor, (and only from him would he haue it) he would returne to them, where euer they were. Thus marched they on with all the brauery that might be, euery one striuing who should be most sumptuous, to expresse their loues and respects to their Generall: who was more generally beloued then any Prince, ex∣cept his Cousen, and Brother, euery one wearing his Colours in honor to him, which was Oring-tawny and white.

Thither came to the place of meeting, also the Achaians ledd by Leandrus, who after hee had visited his Sister, and once againe seene his aged Fa∣ther, followed the Armie gone before, and ouertooke them before their comming to the Towne. With them (and much t••ue affection in himselfe to the Generall) hee came to Rosindy, of whom hee receiued most louing welcome; who euer could imagine glorie, might heere haue seeene it at the

height of perfection: magnanimous spirits, braue and vnconquered men, vndaunted souldiers, riches of all gallantry in euery respect, and what was most and best, all excellent souldiers, and true souldiers, the excellentest men.

Thus then was all that could be wisht in this Army together ioynd: none refused passage, but willingly yeelded it to be rid of their force, so as loue or feare, made free and open way for them, till they came within the skirts of Macedon, there they met some, but poore resistance, till they came to a great Plaine, neere the riuer of Deuoda. There they saw a great Army, and by in∣telligence, knew the Vsurper was there: they went as neare him, as discreti∣on would permit them, considering night grew on, and as iudicially proui∣ded for the Army, the Generall himselfe going to settle euery Quarter in his right place, being so expert in the learning of the Art of a Souldier, as hee could iustly tell what compasse of ground would serue from one hundred to thousands.

When hee had setled them, he returned to his Tent, where hee with the Princes and Commanders supped, after consulting what would be fittest to bee done the next day; many opinions were giuen: some to set vpon the King and his Army, but that Selarinus liked not, for (said hee) wee are but strangers, and all our hope and power in the Armie, if wee be ouerthrowne, all is lost for vs; if hee loose the day, hee is in his owne Country, and may haue aide instantly brought to him: therefore I thinke fitter to let him vrge vs, then for vs to presse him to fight; besides, no question but hee will doe that, why then should wee bee so forward? Let vs patiently goe on with temper, and the greater will bee our benefit. Rosyndie much commended his aduise, and resolued to bee perswaded by it.

While thus they sate, came a Trumpet from Clotorindus with a defie, and challenge to fight the next morning This was accepted, the hower appoin∣ted, eight of the clocke; thus euery one betooke themselues to rest, hoping for the next dayes victorie. As soone as day appeared, Rosyndie tooke his Horse, and rid through all the Armie, aduising, intreating, commanding, and vsing faire words, intreaties, peremptorie authoritie, and all in their kinds, as hee found the subiects, on whom they must bee vsed, with such iudgement, as bred not onely loue and feare, but admiration in all hearts, to see so great vn∣derstanding and vnusuall exc••llencie in so few yeares. But now all are rea∣dy, his Armie hee ord••r'd thus; the foote hee diuided in three bodies, the Vanguard led by himselfe, accompanied with Leandrus; the Maine bat∣tel by Selarinus accompanied with Lisandrinus, the Reare, by the graue Mar∣shall, who went with him out of loue to his person, with him was his sonne Lesarino: some of the Horse (by reason of aduantage was found in that place) were put on either side as Wings; the right-hand Wing giuen to Tolimandro, the left to the Prince of Elis, some Foote placed to flanke the Horse, and some Horse put in each diuision.

Clotorindus had put his men much in this kind; so they charged the Vantguard of the Macedonians, led by a braue and valiant Gentle∣man, called Thesarenus, Prince of Sparta, who did so brauely, as had there been but few more of his spirit, the day had hardly bin lost, at least not so soone wonne. Rosyndie with the vantguard charged the Macedonians

where there was a cruell fight, the Morean Horse first defeated, then the Vantguard broken and disordered, which Selarinus perceiuing, came with the Maine-battaile to the succour, where so brauely hee found Ro∣sindie fighting as hee had made walles of dead men of his owne killing, round about him, as if they had been cast vp of purpose for his safetie: or as a List roped in for the combate, which hee was in, with the young Pha∣lerinus, Prince of Thessalonica, who more delicately and brauely held out, then any hee had yet encountred: but what with wearinesse, and be∣sides seeing the new succour come, was forced to yeeld; Rosindy taking him in his armes, in stead of disarming him, taking his word, in stead of his Sword, which noble act bred such loue in the young Prince to∣wards him, as hee after prooued a true and faithfull subiect vnto him. Then did Rosindy, and Selarinus haste to the battaile, which was now by the ouerthrowne of the Vantguard, required to come vp, and the Reare with the strangers to aduance against the Macedonian Horse. A great while the Moreans had the worst, but at last by the valour of Selarinus, Leandrus (who had changed his white Armours, innocent cullour, to re∣uengefull bloud), Lisandrinus, the Princes of Corinth and Elis, and the Mar∣shall with his sonne, but especiallie by the iudgement mixt with true vallour, and the care, matched with excellent skill of Rosindy, the Victo∣rie came on their side, with the shamefull flight of Clotorindus; the exe∣cution was great, and indured long, the Conquest greater, the bootie verie rich, and thus with the losse of tenne thousand on the one side, and thirtie on the other, the retreit was sounded: the next day the dead of both sides buried, and Rosindy with his braue troope marched on towards Thessalonica, where the Queene was, and into which Towne the Vsurpe•• was got, of purpose, if not by strength, yet by tricks to saue himselfe, and keep the Crowne; but neither he must doe.

Then did the braue Generall set downe before Thessalonica, and incom∣pa••sing it round, cutting off all victuall by land, and blocking the sea and ships hindred all good from their aide; so making it a rare and cruell siege. Now did Rosindy endure the length of this with much paine, longing in his very soule, to see his Lady, which within some time after hee did, but so, as the great longing hee had satisfied by her sight, was turnd to sorrow for it: his desire and ioy to see her changed to griefe, and wishing hee had not seene her, the cause, and his affliction as hee termed it, proouing terrible. Thrice were their sallies made forth by the besieged, but to as little purpose, as if they meant only to come forth to be honourd with wounds, and being vanquished by their mightie Enemies.

One day they saw a white Flag vpon the Wall, which gaue them to vnderstand, a Parly was demanded by the beating likewise of a Drum, which Rosindy did in the same manner answere, they came vpon the Wall, the Prince and his companions to the Wall, then did Clotorindus speake thus.

Great Prince Rosyndie, and you braue Princes his Companions, what iniustice doe you goe about in seeking to depriue mee of mine owne, who neuer wronged you, nor would haue denied to haue serued any of you with my owne person and meanes, if you had requird it? now for you to

seeke to take a Kingdome from mee, lawfully my right, both by being next heire male, and besides mine now by marriage with Meriana, daughter and heire, as you terme her, to the Crowne, what exceptions can you now take? Let me then as a Friend, and Kinsman (as by marriage I now am to you) gaine peace; I that haue been by your owne will made your Enemie, desire an end of these cruell warres. Let me be accepted as a Cosin, and my frend∣ship taken as proferd by a friend, rather then thus continue shedding of bloud, let the conclusion be welcome, and the trumpets and drummes turnd to Musick of ioy. This I demand for my selfe as your friend, if you please, and for my wife your Cosin, who infinitely is grieued to haue her owne bloud seeke to shed the bloud of her deare husband.

Husband, false Traytor, repli'd Rosindy, she whose matchlesse worth so well knowes it selfe, cannot abuse that knowledge of truth, to yeeld the treasure of it to so base a place, and which neuer had staine, but by this thy wronging her, who cannot liue to vndoe that, with bestowing it on one so vild and treache••ous as thy selfe. For thy friendship I refuse it, and so I answere for my friends here present contemning thy basenesse, so as wee should hate our selues, if a thought of thy submission (if not to punish thee) could come into our hearts. Thy false tale of marriage we loath to heare of, since as falshood wee hate that, and thee for it. Thou sayst, wee haue no iust quarrell; O Monster, what Iustice more can bee required, then taking Armes to the putting downe a Rebell and a Traytor to his rightfull Princesse? Alli∣ance thou claimest, I acknowledge none: and had there been no other cause, this had been enough to haue made vs ruine thee, for framing so false a report, and wronging (with thy filthie tongue) thy Queene, and the Queene of true vertue, and of Macedon. Therefore recant and deliuer her, or here I vow to fire the Towne, and breake open the gates, to let in our iust reuenge to thee, and on thee.

Is this the requitall of my kindnesse (said Clotorindus)? farewell, doe thy worst proud Prince, and all thy fond companie: but take this with thee before the Towne bee wonne, thy heart shall ake more, then e∣uer any wound could come neare thee to bring it, or the wound of thy fond loue.

With that he went from the wall, and in stead of the white Flag, presently a bloudy one was h••ng forth, which continued till the next day, when as to the same place Meriana was brought, with an infinite number of armed men, dressed as to her Wedding, a Crowne on her head, and her haire all downe. To this sight was most of the Army drawne, but Rosindy, with most hast greedily beholding her beauty, and hearkning to her speech, which was this.

Clotorindus, thou hast now (I confesse) some pittie in thee, since thou will free mee from my miserable liuing, I thanke thee for it, and Ro∣sindy I hope shall requi••e it, to whom I commend my best and last loue; farewell braue Prince, but bee thus confident that I am iust. With that they inclosed her round in a circle, often before seeking to hinder her last speech.

Presently was shee out of Rosindies sight, and presently againe brought into it to his extreamest miserie, for onely that peerelesse head was

seene of him, being set vpon a pillar, and that pillar being vpon the top of the Pallace, the haire hanging in such length and delicacie, as although it some∣what couered with the thicknesse of it, part of the face, yet was that, too sure a knowledge to Rosindie of her losse, making it appeare vnto him, that none but that excellent Queene was mistrisse of that excellent haire. His soule and heart rent with this sight, and the seeing it a farre off, rising with such speed, as it seemd a Comet to show before their ruine, or like the Moone, hauing borrowed the Sunnes beames to glorifie her pale face with his golden rayes. All the Armie made a most pitifull and mournefull crie, as if euery one had lost a loue, the Princes cry'd vpon reuenge, that word wrought most vpon Rosindy, the rest being before but a time to lull his passions in their rest, which were restlesse afflictions. Long it was be∣fore hee spake, at last hee cryed, Arme and assault this wicked Towne. Then went hee in the head of the Armie to the Gates, which with En∣gines that they had, and guided with furie, by the next morning, they broke open, not before when iudgement gouerned, being able to per∣swade themselues they could haue compassed it.

The Gate open, they with furious rage, and mercilesse crueltie, pro∣ceeded, sparing not one creature they met, hasting to take downe the Head of his dearest loue, and hopes. But when hee came thither, hee saw that taken away also. O crueltie vniust (said hee), wilt thou not suf∣fer mee to see her once more? Wretched Fate, that I must now bee barred from taking yet the last kisse from thy deare, though pale dead lipps, on them to seale the last of my life? Hee complained thus, yet his griefe increased his rage, so as hee came into the Pallace, where hee found Clotorindus in the Hall, with a Dagger in his hand, who as soone as hee saw him, with a hellish countenance, hee looked on him, and in a curst voyce, said, Thy Victorie shall yet neuer bee honoured by my death, which but with mine owne hand shall bee brought mee: then stab'd hee himselfe in many places of his bodie, and so fell. The Prince scorning to touch him, commanded the Souldiers to take him, and throw him into the Ditch, esteeming that too good a buriall for him.

Then went hee on further, hoping in despaire to know how his soule was parted from him, and where the bodie did remaine, meaning on that place to make his Tombe, and in it to consume, pine, and die. With this hee went into many roomes, but found no bodie: then went hee to the Gallerie where hee first spake with her, throwing himselfe vpon the ground, kissing the place, and weeping out his woe. Selarinus staid with him to hinder anie rash, or sudden attempt, hee might make vpon himselfe; Leandrus and the rest made safe the Towne, and tooke all the people that were left (which were but few) to mercie in Rosindies name, who lying thus, at last start vp, crying, hee heard his Lady call for helpe. Selarinus doubting it had been but some vnrulie passion, mistrusting more his friend, seeing the vehemency of his passion, then hoping the truth of this, followed him, till hee came into a Tower at the end of the G••llery, where hee also heard a voice pitifully complaining, at last hearing it bring forth these words. O Rosindy, how iustly hast thou•• dealt with me,

and royally performd thy word? but wretch that I am, I shall not doe soe with thee, for heere must I consume my dayes vnknowne to thee, and wald vp with misery, and famine die.

This was enough for the two braue men to make new comfort, in new strength to relieue her, wherfore Rosindy cry'd out, dost thou liue my Me∣riana? heere is thy faithfull loue, and seruant come to rescue thee. O my Lord, said she, neuer in a happyer time, quickly then giue me life with your sight. Then ran Selarinus downe with ioy to call for helpe, Rosindy exami∣ning euery place, where he might find the fittest to come to throw downe the wall; but then a new feare tooke him, how they might doe that, and not hurt her; but the greater danger must be auoyded, and the lesse taken, so the soldiers came and threw downe the wall, Rosindy still crying to her to take heed; and when they came to the last blow, that there was a place ap∣pear'd (though small) into the roome, none then must worke there but him∣selfe, least dust, or any the least thing might offend her.

But when the wall was so much downe as she was able to come out, with what ioy did he hold her, and shee embrace her loue? Imagine excellent louers, what two such could doe, when after the sight of one dead, the other wall'd to certaine death, seeing both taken away, and mett with comfort, what could they say? what ioy possess'd them? heauenly comfort, and all ioyes on earth knit in this to content them.

Then did Rosindy as much weepe with ioy, as hee did before with mourning, and she weeped to see his teares, so as ioy not being to expresse it selfe, was forced to borrow part with sor••••w to satisfie it.

Selarinus chid them for that passion, and so brought them out of it, bringing them into the Hall, whither by that time the other Prines were come, and the cheife of the Armie. In that braue and most warlike pre∣sence did Meriana giue her selfe to Rosindy, being there betroathed: then were the others of the people taken to Meriana, the Macedonians from all parts comming with expresslesse ioy vnto her, yeelding them∣selues as her loyall Subiects, and taking others to her, and Rosindy of alleageance.

Then sent hee new Gouernours and Commanders to all the fron••ier Townes, and into the cheife strength within the Land, requit••ng the Moreans with the estates of those that were lost in the bettaile, and the Towne; the strangers with the booty, which was infinite, and other such rewards as bound their loues to him for euer, not being able to hope to thriue so well in the next businesse, which now must be for Albania.

The Queene Meriana, and Rosindy in this content, the counterfeting was found, and the deuice discouer'd, which was told by a seruant of Cloto∣rindus vsed in the businesse, which was, that pillar had bin made & set there by her Father, a man excellently graced in all arts, and especially in prosepec∣tiues, to try his skill he made this, which though so big, as one might stand in it, yet so farr, it seemd but as a small piller, of purpose made to hold a head vp∣pon, and so had they rais'd her within it, as no more appeard aboue it then her chinne coming ouer it, it was as if stucke into her throat the iust dis∣stance and art in the making being such and so excellent as none could but haue thought it had beene her head cut off, besides the greife

and her owne complection naturally a little pale, made her seeme more then vsually, and so nearer death, the intent being to make Rosindy beleeue shee was dead, which conceit, he hoped would leade him thence; she being gone, for whose sake he came thither, which if it had taken effect, then she should haue liued as she had done before, but seeing neither his false tale, nor this tooke the way hee wished, he walled her vp, purposing that since hee could not winne, nor keepe her, none should else enioy her; but now all is ended with the blessing of enioying, in a better estate who can be left? Am∣philanthus following his way to Ciprus with his friend Ollorandus, quickly landed there, taking their way as they were directed by passengers, (the Countrey now full of people, that came to see the end of this businesse) to the throne of loue, the plaine before it, being all set with Tents, and co∣uered with Knights and Ladyes.

The first Tent Amphilanthus knew to be some Italians, wherfore hee went into that, and finding it belonged to the Duke of Millan, whose o∣pinion of his owne worth, and the beauty of his Mistresse had made him aduenture the enchantment, was therein inclosed, hee discouerd himselfe vnto his seruants, who presently made offer of it to his seruice; which hee accepted, yet did hee charge the men not to let him be knowne by any but themselues: there they rested for that night, the next morning go∣ing among the Tents, finding many braue Princes, and excellent Ladyes, some come to aduenture others, only to behold the aduentures of others: many of these the two excellent Companies knew, but they keeping their beauers down•••• were not knowne of any.

One Lady among the rest, or rather aboue the rest, for exquisite wit and rare ••pirit, so perfect in them, as she excelled her sexe so much, as her per∣fections were stiled masculine.

This Lady (as her iudgment was greater then the rest, so her obseruation was likewise more particular) cast her eyes vpon these strangers, but most on the Italian: shee sigh'd at first sight, aftergrew sad, wondring why shee was so troubled, not knowing the face of her trouble, neuer then resting till she had got the truth of whence he was, and so the meanes to see him; hee hauing inquired of euery ones name and title, came also to know her to bee called Luceania Daughter to a noble man, who was Brother to the fa∣mously vertuous, but vnfortunate Lady Luceania, wife, and Mother to the first, and this last Antissius King of Romania.

Wife she was to a great Lord in the same Countrey, who though vn∣able to flatter himselfe with conceit of worth, sufficient to end so rare an aduenture, yet partly for nouelties, and most to please his spiritfull wife, hee came thither, louing the best company, for these reasons.

The Prince was glad to here this, because he was now sure of acquain∣tance quickly there. As soone as his name was knowne, shee studying to haue her ends by his knowledge, watched the next fit opportunitie, which was offered the next day by a generall meeting of all the Knights and La∣dies. Hee seldome bashfull, put himselfe among them: Luceania must needs know him, wherfore shee asked those that accompanied her, who that stran∣ger was, they all answered they knew him not, nor could they learne of any who hee was.

Is it possible, said she so braue a Prince should be vnknowne? many de∣siring to doe her seruice, she being for noble behauiour, courtesie, wit, and greatnesse of vnderstanding loued, and admired of all such as could bee ho∣nord with her conuersation; to please her, euery one indeuored, and one for∣warder then the rest (as more bound in affection) went to him, telling him, that a faire Lady much desired to know his name.

Can it be answered the King, that any faire Lady should so much ho∣nor mee, as to desire so worthlesse a thing as my name? There is one Sir, said hee, who curiously desireth the knowledge of it, which must bee more worthy ••hen you doe accound it, otherwise could she no couet in, and such an one is shee, said he, as if you can deserue beauty, you will acknow∣ledge, only deserues honor, and seruice.

Th••y b••long, said the King to all such excellent creatures, yet Sir, 〈◊〉〈◊〉, it is my ill fortune at this time that I am not able to satisfie her de∣••••••••, although this grace shall euer make me her seruant. The Knight ac∣••••••nted with such vowes went back to Luceania, truly telling her all that ••••••had said, which although deliuered by a farre worse Orator, yet gaind ••••••y more fauour for him: shee esteeming witt beyond outward beauty, b••t both there ioyned, it is necessary for to yeeld as she did, for before shee desi••'d his name only, now finding iudgment and braue Courtshipp, shee long's for his society, and these accompanied with seeing his excellent∣ly sweete, and euer conquering louelinesse, did ioyne as to the conquest of her, for shee who before had knowne loue rather by name then sub∣iection, now shee finds her selfe loues Prisoner, affection before, but companion like•• now mastring, and now she finds it expedient to know that delightfull cruell, who had with so pleasing a dart, wounded, and ceazed her (till then commanding) heart.

The next euening was resolu'd of for her gaine of knowledge, and rather then misse, there shee would employ the same louesicke Knight againe, who to bee graced with her commands would doe any thing.

The euening come, and Amphilanthus, his companion assuring themselues they were vnknowne, freely came into the company. Shee who now was by the art of loue taught to watch all opportunities, and neuer to loose any, was walking with her husband forth, to passe away the time in the coole ayre: Amphilanthus and his friend discoursing of their owne passions, finding the greatest misse euer in most company, their Ladyes being absent, were so transported with their passions, as they were close to this amorous Lady, and her Lord before they discouerd it, which when they found, asked pardon for their rudnesse, they would haue returnd: but shee who was now, not to put of her hopes till the next meeting, resolud to make vse of this, so with as inticing a countenance, as Caesar vnderstood Cleopatras to be, shee told them shee saw no error they had committed, that place being free to all, but tur••ing her selfe towards her husband, she smiling said. Would you thinke my Lord, this Knight were ashamed of his name? I see small reason that hee should, said hee, why thinke you that he is? because hee refuseth too tell it said shee.

Although (excellent Lady) answered Amphilanthus, it may be my name is not so fortunate as to haue come to your eares with any renowne, yet am I not ashamed of it, a vow onely hauing made mee conceale it. May not that vow bee broken, said shee? This may, and shall (said hee) to satisfie your desire, though some vowes are so deare, as nothing, nor any force may preuaile against them. With that shee saw Ollorandus had vndertaken her husband, which gaue her more libertie in her desires, againe vrging with fine and amorous countenances the breach of his vow. The commanding power (said he) which your perfections carrie with them must preuaile; then bee pleased to know I am Amphilanthus, King of the Romans.

Pardon mee my Lord, (said shee) that I haue been thus bold with you, which was caused by (with that shee blushing held her peace, desi∣ring to bee thought bashfull, but more longing to bee intreated for the rest). Nay, speake on, excellent Lady (said hee), and barre not mine eares from hearing what you surely once thought mee worthy to know. Well then my Lord (said shee) you shall haue it, my desire to know you, was caused by an vnresisting power, your excellencies haue ouer my yeelding affections to you; the first time I saw you, I receiued the wound I now perish in, if you fauour not.

Amphilanthus was rather sorrie, then glad to heare this speech, be∣ing to him, like as where the law is that a man condemned to die, may bee saued, if a Maide begge him for her husband: so hee may bee saued from death, but wedded against his heart to another; affection before hauing wounded him, hee can scarce entertaine this: but considering gratefulnesse is required as a chiefe vertue in euerie worthie man, he curteously replied, that till that time fortune had neuer so honoured him, as to bring him to the height of so much happinesse as to be gra∣ced with such an affection.

Shee who loued, and desired, tooke the least word hee spake for a blessed consent, was about to answere againe, when they saw Ollorandus come with her husband to them, who with much adoe (as he counterfeited,) had told who they were; the good man hearing that these were two of them relieu'd, and won Romania to quiet by their owne valor, but especially reioy∣cing that Amphilanthus (of whom the world was fild with same) was there, came to welcom him, nor would be deny'd, but they must lodge with him in his tent. Luceania was not greeu'd at this motion, though Amphilanthus would willingly haue gone backe to his Milan Tent, where he might haue comforted himselfe, with discoursing to his owne thoughts; But the Lady now keepes him prettily well from those passions with continuall discourse of other things.

Much he enquired after the manner of ending the enchaunment, which hee longed for, that then hee might againe see what he only coueted: Loue still increasing in her, as longing grew in him to see his deerest Loue. Hee kindly entertain'd her fauours, and cour••uously requited them, and one day the more to expresse his respect to her, hee tooke this course, which in his owne minde was plotted rather to get more freedome, and to make proofe of his valour, his friend and hee onely acquainting Luceania and her Lord with it, changing their armors and colors, the better to be vnknowne,

came in the morning with Trumpets before them, challenging euery one that desired to trie his strength, to the Iust, to breake sixe staues a piece, and this to continue sixe dayes, in defence of their Mistrisses beauty. Amphilan∣thus was in Watchet and White; Ollorandus in Orange colour, hee hauing no fauour; and therefore in spite wore that colour: the other had a scarfe which Lucenia sent him the night before, which hee wore on his right arme. This challenge brought forth all the knights, and they the Ladies; the first was an Italian, and encountred Ollorandus (who was to hold the first three dayes, if so long hee could without foyle, by Amphilanthus appoint∣ment, if not, then he to come in). This Italian was strong, and the stronger, for that he was in loue; and more, because his Mistrisse at that time made him the bolder, being fauourd with her sight, and blessed with her louing wishes. But these could not preuaile against the Bohemian, who had the stronger spirit waiting on him of perfect loue, which ouerthrew the Italian, lying on the ground, flatly confessing his ouerthrow.

Two dayes he thus kept the field, without shew of loosing the honor to any: but then came one, who encountred him with such cleane strength and valour, as he was forc'd to confesse, hee matched him; nor did it turne to any dishonour to him, when it was knowne who it was, being Polarchus, Ba∣stard sonne to the king of that Iland: but soone did Amphilanthus reuenge his friend, and so by conquest kept the field, though hee confest, hee had sel∣dome felt such an encounter as the last of the sixe courses, the other fiue ha∣uing lasted without any aduantage: this with the losse of his stirrops, but the falling back of the other vpon his horses backe, and trumbling downe, stri∣uing to recouer his saddle. Thus he redeemd his friends mischance, main∣taining the field against all commers, in the defence of his mistrisses beauty.

Two dayes hee held it, in which time hee woone the same of the brauest Knight. The last day they were a little hindred from that sport, by the comming of a great, and braue troope of knights, hauing with them two of the beauties the world could hold excellent; they rode in a Chariot of wat∣chet Veluer, embroidred with crimson silke, and Pearle the inside, the out∣side with purle of siluer: and yet that riches poore, in comparison of the in∣comparable brightnesse and clearenesse of their owne beau••ies. Soone were they knowne: for who could be ignorant of the perf••ctions of Pamphilia and Limena: for hee that neuer saw Pamphilia but by report, seeing this vn∣speakable beauty, said, it could be no other then that peerelesse Queene, none else could so excell in true perfection. Two Knights rid on each side of the Chariot, one in armour of Gold, enameld with leaues of Lawrell; the other all blacke: thus they came with great magnificence and state, when Amphi∣lanthus was ready to encounter a new knight, that would needs haue the fa∣uour to be throwne downe by the conquering Prince, who soone receiud the honour, his vanquishing power gaue all other, kissing his mother without de∣sire o•• pleasure.

Then did the Prince looke about him, casting his eyes by chance towards the troope, at which sight hee straight knowing the neuer enough exalted Princesse, he went towards her, his eies meeting the vnresisting power of her eies, who was soueraign of al harts; telling the new Queen, that certainly now the charmes must haue conclusion, she being come to aduenture for them. I

hope my Lord (said she) there will be an end of them, since I know I am able to bring one part to the conclusions demand, being that, I thinke you haue not been much troubled with all, and in truth I cannot blame you much, since libertie is an excellent profit. But what colour shall wee haue next; the last I saw was Crimson, now Watchet and White; do you adde to your inconstancy, as fast as to your colours? None can bee accused deere Ladie (said he) for their change, if it bee but till they know the best, therefore little fault hath yet been in me: but now I know the best, change shall no more know mee. Euery change brings this thought (said shee): but here is the Queene Limena, whose noble vertues were rescued by your friend, and my brother from crueltie and death, though not of them, but her person dying, they must (if not for him) haue remaind the outward tombes of her honor. Then kist he her hands, and so conducted the two Queenes to the fittest place to see those begun sports, and to be beheld of the Knights.

Amphilanthus continuing his still enioyed victories, none parting from him without flat falles, or apparant losse of honour. Then the Knight of Victorie, and the Black Knight came vnto him with these words: Victorious Sir, we see how brauely and happily you haue carried your selfe in this chal∣lenge, and so as we should bee too bold flatterers of our selues, if wee would hope to get the better of you: yet being knights and seruants to faire Ladies, we are ingaged in honour to try our fortunes with you, defending that these two Ladies are fairer, and more truly worthy then your mistrisse. I said the Knight of Victory defend the Queene Limena: and I (said the other, the in∣comparable Pamphilia. Your demaund (said Amphilanthus) shall bee an∣swered, although I must confesse, it rather should bee yeelded vnto without blowes; yet will I proceede in the begun challenge, though against beau∣ties matchlesse; and first answere you, who defend the Queene Limena.

All eyes were fixed vpon these two, one knowne powerfull, and not to bee vanquisht, the other outwardly appearing excellent, and so did he proue him∣selfe: for neuer were six courses runne more finely, then these were; so as euery one said, that none but another Amphilanthus could haue per∣formed them so delicately; yet a little difference there was betweene them, which made a question to whom the whole honour did belong. Amphilanthus lost his stirrops, and the other was struck flat vpon his horse: but the Prince himselfe ordered the businesse thus; that hee would make an end of that mornings triumph, and the other should haue the after noones triall.

This was agreed on by all, and hee much commended for his royall curtesie; when no one came, Amphilanthus lighting from his horse, came to the stranger, who stood ready to receiue him with his right Gauntlet off, but his Beauer downe, to whom the Prince with a graue and sweet countenance deliuered the Speare, and liberty for the free accomplishing the rest of that exercise. The stranger with al respect, and indeed affection, receiued that fa∣uour, wishing the happinesse to conclude the time with as much brauery and good fortune, as Amphilanthus had done the daies past.

Then did the Prince boldly shew himselfe to all, many there knowing him, and comming humbly to acknowledge their loues and gratefulnesse vnto him, for infinite fauours receiued by them from him: for indeede

no man was euer inrich'd with a more noble, free, and excellent disposition, then this exquisit Prince had flowing in him: after dinner this most hono∣red and beloued Prince, with the admired Queenes, Ollorandus, and the rest came againe to see the conclusion of that braue sport, in which time the Knight of Victorie so stoutly behaued himselfe, as thereby hee gaind excee∣ding great fame, but now was euening beginning to threaten him with her power to ouercome his victories, which yet remaind whole vnto him, few being left that were not by Amphilanthus, Ollorandus, or himselfe, taught how to aduenture in such like businesses. He now hauing a little time left him to breathe in, none comming against him, hee looked about, and cast his eyes on her, whose beauty he so brauely defended with such affection, as hee stirred not them, nor his mind from that beloued obiect, till a boy in shepheards apparrell deliuered these words to him, almost pulling him, be∣fore hee gaue him hearing. My Lord said he (for so my master bid me call you), I come from yon man, one, who not skill in armes, but truth of his La∣dies beauty brings forth, and by me sends you word, that your Mistrisse Li∣mena is not one halfe so faire, as his Queene Pamphilia: it is (hee sayes) no bouldnesse to defend her, whose beauty is without compare; wherefore hee desires you to prepare your selfe: but take heed Sir, hee is mighty strong. Good Boy (said the Knight), tell your Master I will attend him, and I pray thee aduise him as well for the loue I beare thee. Then came the Shepheard knight (for so they cald him) all in Ashcolour, no plume nor fauour, onely fauourd with his Ladies be••t wishes (the best of fauours). The encounter was strong and delightful, shiuers of their speares aseending into the aire, like sparkes of a triumph fire: fowre courses they ran, without any difference for aduantage; the fift, the knight of Victorie lost both stirrops, and a little yeel∣ded with his body; the other passing with the losse of one stirrop; the sixth and last, being (if it were possible) a more strong, and excellent course: their ambitions equall to honour, glorious to loue, and couetous of gaine before their Ladies, scorning any place lower then the face. Both hit so luckely and equally, as their beauers flew vp, the knight of Victorie being knowne to be Perissus, the other Amphilanthus, who confident that now he had truth on his side, and desirous once more to trie the strength of the other, while most eyes were on the Champion, he stole away, and arm'd himselfe. Amphilan∣thus at first knew not Perissus, many yeares hauing past since their la••t mee∣ting: but when he heard Perissus nam'd, with what ioy did he embrace him, being the man, who from his youth, hee had like himselfe loued, admi••ing his vertues, and louing his person. This done, they went to Pamphilia's tent, where shee gaue Amphilanthus infinite thanks for the honour hee had done her: but yet my Lord (said she) I must blame my poore beauty for the de∣lay you had in your Victory, which I confessed, when I saw so long differ∣ring of your ouercomming, grieuing then for that want, which brought your stay in winning.

Detract not from your beauty, which all iudgements know without equall (said hee), nor from the bountie of the renowned and famous Perissus, but giue the rea••on where it is, which is want in my fortune to obtaine any thing that most I desire, or seek, such crosses hitherunto accompanied my life. Then did Pamphilia intreat him to take knowledge of the other knight, whose

name was Millisander, Duke of Pergamus and her subiect, whose father, though newly dead, and therefore wore that mourning armour, yet would not stay, but attend her thither; then Amphilanthus desired to know how it came about, that she honoured that place with her presence. The Queene willing to satisfie his demand began her discourse in this manner. Mine Vn∣cle King of Pamphilia, comming for me to carry me into his Country, and there to settle me (as long since he resolu'd) by the consent and leaue of my father, I went with him, by the way winning the happines of the companies of these excellent Princes, Perissus and Limena: after our arriuall I was crow∣ned, and being peaceably setled, mine Vncle retired into a Religious house, where he will end his dayes: I heard still the same of this enchantment, of which I had vnderstood by my brother Parselius, who had himselfe got some vnfortunate knowledge of it; I desired to aduenture it, being assured that I was able for one part to conclude it, since it is to be finished by that vertue I may most iustly boast of. Thus resolued (honoured with the presence like∣wise of this excellent King, and vertuous Queene, with the consent of my people, leauing the gouerment for this time with the Councell) we came to aduenture for the Throne of Loue. Which (said Amphilanthus) I am also to trie; wherefore let me be so much fauoured, as I may bee the Knight to aduenture with you, and you shall see, I want not so much constancy, as not to bring it to end, though it pleased you lately to taxe me with it. My Lord (said she) I taxed you onely for Antissia's sake, who (poore Lady) would die, if shee thought that you had chang'd, shee so entirely loueth you. Hath she spoken to you to speake for her (said hee)? in truth shee did well, since loue much better suites with your lippes then her owne: but shall I haue the ho∣nour that I seeke? You shall command my Lord (said shee), and wee will surely bring an end to it; your valour, and my loyalty being met together. He made no other answere then with his eyes, so for that night they all par∣ted, euery one expecting the next mornings fortune, when the Throne should be so brauely aduentur'd for. All that would trie their fortunes had free libertie; so six couples ventur'd before the peerelesse payre; but all were imprisoned, to be honord the more, with hauing their deliuery by the power of the most excellent, who being ready to aduenture, they were hindred a little by the comming of a Gentleman in white armour richly set forth, and brauely accompanied, who comming directly to Amphilanthus desired the honour of Knighthood, telling him hee had sought many places, and passed many Countries to receiue that fauour from him, which, but from him hee would not accept, withall pulling off his helme, which presently made him to be knowne to be Antissius King of Romania. Amphilanthus with due re∣spect to him welcomd him, protesting he could neuer merit so high an honor as this was vnto him, wherefore without delay in the sight of all that Prince∣ly company, he girt the sword to him, and he with Perissus put on his spurs; then came Allimarlus to kisse his hands, who most kindly he receiued; and now my Lord (said hee), you are very fitly come to see the Throne of Loue wonne (I hope) by this surpassing Queene, and your seruant my selfe.

Antissius went to salute the Queene, so together they passed towards the Bridge. Antissius and Ollorandus going together, twind in each othe••s armes

Pamphilia being thus apparreld in a Gowne of light Tawny or Murrey, em∣brodered with the richest, and perfectest Pearle for roundnesse and whitenes, the work contriued into knots and Garlands; on her head she wore a crowne of Diamonds, without foiles, to shew her clearenesse, such as needed no foile to set forth the true brightnesse of it: her haire (alas that plainely I must call that haire, which no earthly riches could value, nor heauenly resemblance counterfeit) was prettily intertwind betweene the Diamonds in many pla∣ces, making them (though of the greatest value) appeare but like glasse set in gold. Her necke was modestly bare, yet made all discerne, it was not to be beheld with eyes of freedome: her left Gloue was off, holding the King by the hand, who held most hearts. He was in Ashcolour, witnes••ing his repen∣tance, yet was his cloake, and the rest of his suite so sumptuously embroidred with gold, as spake for him, that his repentance was most glorious; thus they passed vnto the first Tower, where in letters of Gold they saw written, De∣sire. Amphilanthus knew he had as much strength in desire as any, wherefore he knocked with assured confidence at the Gate, which opened, and they with their royall companions passed to the next Tower, where in letters of Rubies they read Loue. What say you to this, braue Queene (said hee)? haue you so much loue, as can warrant you to aduenture for this? I haue (an∣swerd shee) as much as will bring me to the next Tower, where I must (I be∣lieue) first aduenture for that.

Both then at once extremely louing, and loue in extremity in thē, made the Gate flee open to them, who passed to the last Tower, where Constancy stood holding the keyes, which Pamphilia tooke; at which instant Constancy vanish∣ed, as metamorphosing her self into her breast: then did the excellent Queene deliuer them to Amphilanthus, who ioyfully receiuing them, opened the Gate•• then passed they into the Gardens, where round about a curious Fountaine were fine seates of white Marble, which after, or rather with the sound of rare and heauenly musick, were filled with those poore louers who were there imprisoned, all chain'd one vnto another with linkes of gold, ena∣miled with Roses and other flowers dedicated to Loue: then was a voyce heard, which deliuered these wordes; Loyallest, and therefore most in∣comparable Pamphilia, release the Ladies, who much to your worth, with all other of your sexe, yeeld right preheminence: and thou Am∣philanthus, the valliantest and worthiest of thy sexe, giue freedome to the Knights, who with all other, must confesse thee matchlesse; and thus is Loue by loue and worth released.

Then did the musick play againe, and in that time the Pallace and all vanished, the Knights and Ladies with admiration beholding each other. Then Pamphilia tooke Vrania, and with affection kissing her, told her, the worth which shee knew to bee in her, had long since bound her loue to her, and had caus'd that iourney of purpose to doe her seruice. Then came Perissus, bringing Limena to thanke her, who heartily did it as shee deserued, since from her counsell her fortunes did arise. Amphilanthus likewise saluted her, hauing the same conceit of resemblance between her and Leonius, as Par∣selius had, and so told her with exceeding ioy, all after one another comming to her, and the rest. Antissius casting his eye vpon Selarina, fixed it so, as it was but as the setting of a branch, to make a tree spring of it: so did his

loue increase to full perfection. Then all desir'd by Pamphilia tooke their way to her Tent, euery one conducting his Lady, Amphilanthus Pamphilia, Perissus, his Limena; Ollorandus, Vrania; Antissius, Selarina, the King of Cy∣prus his Queene, his braue base Sonne Polarchus, the Lady hee only lou'd, who was Princesse of Rodes. Many other great Princes, and Princesses there were, both Greekes and Italians; Allimarlus for old acquaintance leading Vra∣nia's maide: thus to Pamphilia's tent they came, where most sumptuously shee entertain'd them: then did all the great Princes feast each other, the last being made by the King of Ciprus, who out of loue to the Christian Faith, which before he contemned, seeing such excellent, and happy Prin∣ces professors of it, desired to receiue it, which Amphilanthus infinitly re∣ioycing at, and all the rest, Christned him with his wife, excellently faire daughter, and Polarchus his valiant Sonne, and so became the whole Island Christians.

Then came he vnto Amphilanthus, humbly telling him that the disgrace he had from him receiu'd, he esteemed as a fauour, and honour sufficient, to be ouercome by the valiantest King, who none must resist; to manifest which, he besought him to accept him vnto his seruant, and friend, with whom hee resolued to end his daies.

Amphilanthus replied, the honor was his, to gaine so braue a gentleman to his friendship, who should euer finde him ambitious to expresse his loue to him: but said he, assuredly you neuer aduentured the throne, but that you were in loue. He blushing, told him it was true, but (alas) my Lord, said he, I haue no hope now to winne her. Then told he the King, the whole story of his loue, beseeching him to assist him, which he promised to doe, and for that purpose to take their way by Rodes, and so at the deliuering of her to her Father, to sollicit his suit for him, she extreamly louing him, hee kissed the Kings hands for it. And thus euery one remain'd contented, Vra∣nia, longing to see Parselius, and yet not daring to demand any thing of him, till one day, (and the first of their iourney) shee prettily began with Pam∣philia, taking occasion vpon her owne discourse as you shall heare. But now that euery one resolues of going homeward, what can bee imagin'd of lo∣uing Lucenia? whose heart is now almost burst with spite, and rage, which she shewed to the King himselfe, when he came to take leaue of her, telling her that it must be his ill fortune to part with her, that being finished which brought him thither. She answer'd, it was true, it was finished now to her knowledge, which she doubted not had had many ends with such foolish creatures as her selfe, els said she, had I neuer beene deluded with your flatteries. I neuer said he, protested more then I perform'd. It was my fol∣ly then, said she, to deceiue my selfe, and wrong mine owne worth, with letting my loue too much expresse it selfe, to giue aduantage for my losse, when as if you had first sued, your now leauing mee might haue beene falshood, where as it is onely turnd to my shame, and losse. I am sorry said hee, I shall part thus much in your displeasure, since I know I once was more fauour'd of you. You cannot right me more, said shee, then to goe, and gone, neuer more to thinke of me, vnlesse your owne Conscience call vpon you. It will not I hope reply'd Amphilanthus, be ouerburdened with this weight, since I will (now as euer I did) obey you, and so braue Lady fare∣well

well. Shee would not wish him so much good, who now shee hated, so as onely making him a small reuerence they parted, the Prince going to the Kings and Queenes who attended for him, the King of Ciprus bringing them to the Sea, the morning before their taking Shipp, presenting them with the Shepherds, and Shepherdesses of those Plaines, who after their manner sang and sported before them, to the great delight of all, especially Pamphilia, who much louing Poetry, liked their pretie expressions in their loues, some of which she caused to be twise song, and those that were at the banquet, (which was made vpon the Sands, they being seru'd by those harmelesse people) to be written out, which were two songes, and one Di∣alogue deliuered betweene a neate, and fine Shepheard, and a dainty louing Lasse, it was this.

Sh. DEare, how doe thy winning eyes my senses wholly tye? She. Sense of sight wherein most lyes change, and Variety. Sh. Change in me? She. Choice in thee some new delights to try. Sh. When I change or choose but thee then changed be mine eyes. She. When you absent, see not me, will you not breake these tyes? Sh. How can I, euer flye, where such perfection lies? She. I must yet more try thy loue, how if that I should change? Sh. In thy heart can neuer mooue a thought so ill, so strange. She. Say I dye? Sh. Neuer I, could from thy loue estrange. She. Dead, what canst thou loue in me, when hope, with life is fledd? Sh. Vertue, beauty, faith in thee, which liue will, though thou dead, She. Beauty dyes. Sh. Not where lyes a minde so richly spedd. She. Thou dost speake so faire, so kind, I cannot chose but trust, Sh. None vn••o so chaste a minde should euer be vniust. She. Then thus rest, true possest, of loue without mistrust.

An other delicate Mayd, with as sweet a voyce, as her owne louely ••weetnes, which was in her, in more then vsuall plentifulnesse, sang this ••ong, being as it seemd fa••ne out with Loue, or hauing some great qua∣••ell to him.

LOue what art thou? A vaine thought, In our mindes by fancy wrought, Idle smiles did thee beget, While fond wishes made the nett Which so many fooles haue caught.

Loue what art thou? light, and faire, Fresh as morning, cleere as th'ayre: But too soone thy euening change, Makes thy worth with coldnesse range, Still thy ioy is mixt with care.

Loue what art thou? a sweet flowre, Once full blowne, dead in an houre. Dust in winde as staid remaines As thy pleasure, or our gaines, If thy humour change to lowre.

Loue what art thou? Childish, vaine, Firme as bubbles made by raine: Wantonnesse thy greatest pride, These foule faults thy vertues hide, But babes can no staydnesse gaine.

Loue what art thou? Causelesse curst, Yet alas these not the worst, Much more of thee may bee said, But thy Law I once obay'd, Therefore say no more at first.

This was much commended, and by the Ladies well liked of, onely Amphilanthus seem'd to take Loues part, and blame the mayde for accusing him vniustly, especially, for describing him with so much lightnesse. Then to satisfie him, a spruce Shepherd began a Song, all the others keeping the burden of it, with which they did begin.

WHo can blame me if I loue? Since Loue before the World did moue. When I loued not, I despair'd, Scarce for handsomenesse I car'd; Since so much I am refin'd, As new fram'd of ••tate, and mind, Who can blame me if I loue, Since Loue before the World did moue.

Some in truth of Loue beguil'd Haue him blinde and Childish stil'd:

But let none in these persist, Since so iudging iudgement mist, Who can blame me?

Loue in Chaos did appeare When nothing was, yet he seemd cleare: Nor when light could be descride, To his crowne a light was tide. Who can blame me?

Loue is truth, and doth delight, Where as honour shines most bright: Reason's selfe doth loue approue, Which makes vs our selues to loue. Who can blame me?

Could I my past time begin, I would not commit such sin To liue an houre, and not to loue, Since loue makes vs perfect proue, Who can blame me?

This did infinitely please the braue King; so cunningly, and with so many sweet voyces it was sung: then the banquet ended, they tooke leaue of the kind King of Ciprus, and his company, all the rest taking ship with Pamphilia, sailing directly to Rodes, where they receiued vnspeakable welcome, being feasted there eight dayes together, and for show of their true welcome, the Duke of that Iland bestowed his consent for marriage of his daughter, with her long beloued friend Polarchus, whose ioy and content was such, as the other amorous Knights wisht to know. Then tooke they their leaues of the Duke, and all the Rodean Knights and Ladies, taking their way to Delos, Polarchus promi∣sing within short time to attend them in Morea.

The end of the first Booke.