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 SECOND BOOKE. (Book 2)

ALL this iourney did Vrania passe with much griefe in∣wardly suffered, and so borne, desirous to know where her loue was, yet bashfull, durst not aske, till one day Perissus sitting betweene her and Limena, tooke occasi∣on to speake of his first finding her, and so of the obliga∣tion they remaind tied vnto her in, for all the fortunes they enioyd; and so from that, to speake of the rescue Parselius brought Limena at her last breathing, as shee thought. I wonder (said Vrania) where that Prince is, since so many braue men being here, mee thinkes hee should not bee absent; nor could I haue thought any but himselfe might haue ended this aduenture. Truly (said Pe∣rissus) when we parted with him, I neuer saw a more afflicted man then hee was (except once my selfe), and all was for the losse of you. I thought ra∣ther (said she) he had been offended with vs for aduenturing; which well he might, considering by that folly we lost him. Nay, said Allimarlus (who was then come to them), hee had no cause to blame you, hauing committed as great an error, and the same, himselfe, then told hee all the story to her, of what had past after the drinking the water, and so much as he knew, or heard by others of him, while he was heard of. Then came Pamphilia and Amphi∣lanthus, who went on with the discourse, that now Vrania was resolued, and assured of his affection, which so much ioyd her, as the absence of him grew the more terrible to afflict her.

Then to Delos they came, whose milke-white rockes looked smooth with ioy to receiue within their girdle, the worlds treasure of worth, now being in their presence richer, then when most treasure was within her: then tooke they directly to the Pallace, at the entring into the vault meeting the graue Melissea, who with her maides ca••rying torches of white waxe, conducted the Prince through that into the Gardens, all now in hope or feare to know their fortunes. Vrania desiring to know her selfe; Pamphilia to be resolued, whether she should gaine by her loyalty. Amphilanthus when he should en∣ioy, and Antissius longing to be assured, if hee should haue Selarina, who as much desired the same knowledge of gaining him, such affection had growne

betweene them, he being (as shee did verily perswade her selfe) the selfe same little King, that beckned to her out of the enchanted Garden. Allimarlus must by any meanes be gaind by the Shepheardesse.

Thus they all expecting, and Perissus happily enioying, they continue in the Pallace, while the graue Hermit must next haue time to tell his story to distressed Parselius, in this manner beginning.

My louing and afflicted sonne, heare your poore friend say, his name is De∣tareus, borne in Dalmatia, and Lord of Ragusa: I was bred a Courtier, and accordingly thriued; repentance being at last their best fortunes. In that Court I liued in good fauour with the king, and honoured with the office of Steward of his house: Children I had, and all other contents: but at last my wife died, and so did the best of my happinesse; for alas, soone after fell my miseries to increase; and for the greater sharpnes of them, to be thus spring∣ing from my owne best remaining comfort: for I call'd to my chamber my dearest daughter, (Bellamira by name) to be with me, and to gouerne my ser∣uants; but she hauing such beauty, as to be a fit bait to catch misfortune, and bring it to me, the king liked her; which I perceiuing, hasted to bestow her, and so I did on a great heire, who was called Treborius, with whom she hap∣pily liued.

But this King still louing her, and as a louer seeking all meanes to gaine his mind, neuer spared feastings, and all occasions, to draw company to the Court; yet all was because she must be there, otherwise were none in his opi∣nion present: her husband also was extreamely fauoured by him in outward show, and his house often visited by his Maiesty. He saw it: but seeing his wiues vertue spotlesse, ouer-lookt the temptations, which were but as two Glasses, set to see both sides of her noblenesse, and worthy chastitie. Much adoe there was, all eyes beheld it, all spake of it, all admired her. I discerning this, at last gaue ouer the Court, scorning to bee vsed in the slights, which were for her dishonour, and mine in hers: I retyrd, she then hauing no fit occasion to visit the Court, did likewise so. No country sports faild to giue delight, I oft-times with her, and her louing husband; they oft with mee.

But now must these bee crost, not being fit for subiects to liue in content, when the Prince is not pleased; to break which, he sent me Embassador to Ita∣ly, to the king of Naples, father to the glory of Princes, your matchles cosin; her husband he employed another way, hoping to win her in our absence: but herein he was deceiued, for she would not haue the shadow of such times afforded him, wherefore she went with her husband, thereby that plot was hindred, and the kings immoderate affection crossed; but whereby my mi∣sery most increased was, that in my Embassage I fell in loue with a Lady, whose sweetnes and delicacie was able to haue made Troylus false. This Lady I loued, this Lady (happiest destiny as I then vnwisely coniectured loued me) but alas, she had a husband, a terrible and wretched barre in the way of those loose and wicked enioyings which we coueted yet so we ordered our affaires, as wee came to haue priuate conference, and many seuerall mee∣tings.

This Lady was of Apulia, and one, who if the enioying her were death, and life the missing it, death had bin sweeter, and more to haue bin prised. As

I went to the Court, I saw her, she after came thither, at the assemblie which was for my entertainement. Wee liked, loued, and enioyed: then did I not faile, to seeke all meanes to win, and keepe her husbands fauour, which was the way for my blessing: hee embraced it, and truly I must confesse, vsed mee so well, as had any other matter been the end of my deceiuing, but what was, I should haue been sorry, so to haue abus'd his trust.

But what shall I say; you know loue, and therefore braue Sir pardon it, or rather the relation of that which was in mee; so much power had this affe∣ction in mee, as I drew out the time of my stay to last, weauing the longest web that faining occasions could allow mee, the spider loue working for me.

But now comes my affliction in loue, and yet happinesse in the end, for time grew for my departing, which word I may iustly vse, since it was like death (or that it selfe) to mee, or any passionate seruant. To his house I was inuited in my way home (wee yet hauing remaind at Rome) thi∣ther wee went, and made as many dayes iourneyes as wee could, still to win of time: at last wee there arriued, where want was none, if fault; onely I found the continuall company of her good man, that which I disliked, yet wee conuersed freely (as well wee might) before him, hee being as free, as noble courtesie could desire expression in: but we were not fully contented with this, wherefore wee would venture for more, which cost all; for hee lying from his Wife that night, by reason of care to her, lest continuall businesse might disquiet her. I hauing notice of it, when all were in their beds, and sweete silence spread with sleepe ouer all the house, I rose out of my lodging, and softly went vnto her Chamber, where I found her sleeping, at my comming to the bed side; shee awaked, but how did shee blame mee? (and yet truly I belieue, it was the hazard I had put my selfe in, shee more accused, and chid, then my selfe): for shee did not too cruelly reiect mee, though earnestly she intreated, nay coniurd my sudden retyring, which I after some howers yeel∣ded vnto, taking my leaue of her with as sad and dying affection, as if I had foreseene the ensuing harme, which thus happened.

I had at my rising lighted a Candle, which careleslie (my mind on∣lie on my aduenture) I left burning on the Cubbord in my Chamber; this light by miserable mischance wasting it selfe to my ruine, burned so into it selfe, as not being able to sustaine, or in mallice falling downe to throw mee to the bottome of all destruction, tooke hold of the Car∣pet, so setting that on fire (the blaze aspiring to my ende), fired the hangings, they hating the iniurie, the guest they honoured had done to their owne Lord, in angrie flames made testimony of their loyaltie to their Master, giuing him knowledge by their light to see my fault, and to bee as torches for the conducting him vnto my misery. The fire great, the smoke greater, and which more hastily flew about to call wit∣nesses of their innocencies, raised the seruants; they, their Master; he care∣full of me, sent to my chamber to call me to safetie, but more respecting his wife (as dearest to him) went himselfe to saue her, when at the doore, how vn∣welcome a meeting had he, encountring in mee, the robber of his honor? Hee stood still, and in truth I must euer say, hee beheld mee rather with

••orrow then fury, nor would he suffer any to be witnesse of his ill, but see∣ing me vnarm'd, and onely in my Cloake, he intreated me to passe into the next roome, which I did, and seeming cheerefull enough to all els, tooke care of his House to preserue it if possible. Then brought he vnto me a suit of Cloathes, and hauing caused me to make my selfe ready, together we went forth vnnoted by any, (as well wee might, considering the businesse they had to saue the place from destruction.) When wee came into a faire Field, he with teares, thus ••aid.

Till now had I neuer the misfortune to be acquainted with the worst of offences; which is breach of the true law of Friendship, but since I am falne into the wretchedest experience of it, I must, like the most miserable, seeke a way out of it. You cannot deny but you haue deseru'd death, and in the worst kind; yet though I may haue it, yet will I leaue the fault where it is, and in the brauest manner, wipe away the staine, which cannot be washed but with your bloud, or cleansed by my ende. Take then this Sword (throwing one to mee) and said he, defend your selfe. I besought him not to put me to such a triall; I had deseru'd no fauour, nor wishd I any to my selfe, onely that hee would honor me with giuing me my death, and spare his wife, who was (for all my shamefull attempt) vertuous, and vntouch'd. He onely shooke his head, and fetching a deepe groane, bid me leaue speach, and goe to the conclusion, which must bee death. Wee fought (for my part) with so much foule guiltinesse, as me thought, strength, cunning, all good, and vnderstanding had abandon'd me: hee furious, re∣uengefull, (and as I preceiu'd, greedy of ende) pursued me, who onely held my Sword, not to offend, but to defend me, till some (who I descern'd not farre off) could come to part vs; but he likewise seeing them, ran ••o fiercely at me, as I must either lay my selfe open to take death, or holding but my Sword out, giue him his end, which I most vnwillingly did, forc'd to it by the frailty of the Flesh, which in the apparent dangers, is alwaies kindest to it selfe. Those I saw, came, and iust to take vp his body, and who (alas) followed them, but the poore Lady? extremity of shame bringing her to shew her shame: She seeing him slaine, cry'd out, O spare not me, who am the wofull cause of all this misery, let me at last be thus farre blessd, as by your hand to be sent againe vnto him, from whom your sinne and mine haue parted me, neuer let so detestable an offence rest vnpunished? Shame calls vpon you, and calls to me for satisfaction.

The seruants amazedly beheld vs, till she neuer ceasing accusing her selfe, nor vrging death, seeing she could not get it, kneeled downe, and taking a cold kisse from his lips, that were to her doubly dead in affection, and pale death, suddenly rose vp, and in rising taking his sword, with furious and hatefull spite to her selfe, and wrong done him, threw her selfe vpon it, falling downe vpon him, ioyning in that manner her broken vow againe in a new one, with their ends. Then did the seruants finde the cause, whereupon they set on me, for I would not yeeld to goe with them, choosing, and de••iring rather to dye with them, then outliue them in such shame; but too happy, and contrary to my wish was my destinie, for I slew them. Being then left with the two dead bodies, I fell into such complaints, as sorrow, and shame, could procure in me, crying out, where affliction hath iudg'd

it self in being excell'd, as in my misery; why should it not haue end in death? then gaue I my selfe many wounds, neuer ceasing wounding, while my wounded soule abided in my body; at least the soule of humane sense, for so it onely prou'd, for others following their Master and Mistris, found vs all in the entertainment of wounds, palenesse mixt with bloud in the outside, in stead of the more naturall habitations, the veines hauing made open flouds to drowne themselues in, as a riuer may swell against it selfe, to loose her owne name, and yeeld it to a greater by her owne Pride.

Their bodies they carried away, mine remain'd like a tatter'd Ensigne, ra∣ther a glory of gaine then losse, and so poore a thing was I: but a chari∣ble man more louing goodnesse then me, and yet louing me for goodnesse sake, (to make me haue a better ending then in bloud) tooke my martyr'd body away: with bathings, and many more fine curiosities he brought mee to know I liu'd, to be more knowing my dayly dying. In a little Cell hee recouer'd me, but to no more health, then to be able to goe thence, for lon∣ger I would not stay, then I had ability to goe away. I discouer'd nothing of my selfe to him, but by him all that had passed after I left sense till his recouering me; the generall report was, I was burn'd, some fewe said mur∣dred, all agreed I was lost, and in that was true agreement, for so I was, and am. Then left I Apulia, and in Hermits Cloathes roam'd vp and downe, till I lighted on this place, neuer finding any that could content mee but this: What since became of my poore Daughter, her misfortunes, or blessings, I can giue no account of, but I feare the worst, since one day, one instant, and one Planet gouernd, and gaue our births, onely 2••. yeares differing in time; here haue I since remaind, and till now, neuer disclosed my selfe, nor would haue done to you, had not your freedome first ingag'd me: repen∣tance hath beene my blessed delight, hauing enioyed that, as plentifully, and comfortably as euer ioy was to soules.

Now sir, you see before you, where misery hath not beene sparing, where afflictions haue not faild their greatest bounty in excessiuenesse, and where only comfort of a happy repentance rules, and giues a sweeter consolation, then worldly pleasures could with all glorious paintings giue liking. Then did Parselius againe grieue for him, and yet comfort sprung; as after a hard Frost, flowres though dead, may appeare liuing, retaining some warmth in the roote, as in his breast: that he might, with gray haires know a change from misaduentures to a pure content.

Thus they continued, sometimes Parselius wayling, sometimes the Her∣mit relating his Stories past, hee bent to comfort, the other to Dispaire, though sometimes a little moou'd to hope, but with as small strength, as life hath in the last gaspe.

But now must Steriamus, and his companion find their way to their desti∣ned reliefe, following the course ordained for them; they took to the Sea, & so toward St. Maura: Steriamus euer bringing into his sight, the sweetnesse and brauenesse of Pamphilia, blessing Mellissea for sending him to such a hea∣uen of ioy as to see her, and with her fauour to speake to her, and for his happinesse to kisse her hand, shee mildly permitting him. O (said he) Steria∣mus now shalt thou end happily (if so thy Destiny bee) since thou hadst a kind parting from thy better selfe. Then beheld he the Sea, which calme

and smooth gaue them quiet passage: so, said he, appeard my Mistris, gently letting my good come vnto me, to passe me vnto an vnlooked for content. Dearest Loue•• how doth sweetnesse better fit with you, where truest sweet∣nesse dwels, then harsh cruelty? Then did night possesse them, but so still an one, and so brightned by the fauour of the faire Moone, who seem'd chastly to behold her selfe in the smooth face of the Sea, which yet some∣times left her plainnes, rising, as catching at her face; or, as with loue to em∣brace it, or rather keepe her in her dwellings, wherein shee was deceiu'd: for fauours are not euer so free, as though lent, to be possess'd for euer, and thus greedy was I (said he) but she as chastly refused me, yet did their sight bring some Verses into his minde, which were these.

PRay thee Diana tell mee, is it ill, as some doe say, thou think'st it is, to loue? Me thinks thou pleased art with what I proue, since ioyfull light thy dwelling still doth fill.

Thou seemst not angry, but with cheerefull smiles beholdst my Passions; chaste indeed thy face Doth seeme, and so doth shine, with glorious grace; for other loues, the trust of Loue beguiles.

Be bright then still, most chast and cleerest Queene, shine on my torments with a pittying eye: Thy coldnesse can but my despaires discry, and my Faith by thy clearenesse better seeme.

Let those haue heat, that dally in the Sunne, I scarse haue knowne a warmer state then shade•• Yet hottest beames of zeale haue purely made my selfe an offring burnt, as I was wonne.

Once sacrific'd, but ashes can remaine, which in an Iuory box of truth inclose The Innocency whence my ruines flowes, accept them as thine, 'tis a chast Loues gaine.

Hauing done them, he said them to Dolorindus, whose thoughts were as busily employd in the same kinde; now were they come within sight of St. Maura, wherefore Steriamus demanded of the Marriners, if they knew the white Rocke, they did, and so in the long Boate carried them vnto it, where landing them they departed; the Princes taking to the topp of it, viewing it, and the ruines; admiring what they should doe in that desolatnesse, where they found no man, no place for man to bide in saue one little Caue, where•• into they went, and sitting downe they afresh discoursed of their Fortunes: Steriamus relating to his companion, the manner of his liuing in Pantaleria, in the little Caue, and so his youth, but when he touched of Pantaleria, he could not passe it ouer without some passionate remembrance of it, where he

only liued free, and therefore as hee called it happy. Delightfull Pantaleria (would he crie, when I remaind in thee, how was I Lord of my selfe, and so of all quiet content? dayes were then past in hunting, or some other countrie delights, which now waste in being hunted by afflictions: no paine knew I, if not by surfetting of pleasure, yet proued I a man esteeming change my greater happinesse, when braue Parselius with the rarest of women, except my Lady released me from ignorance, bringing me into the world, to be the riper in miseries fruite, what happinesse (in comparison of the woe we Prin∣ces suffer) doth remaine in a country life? O Pantaleria would I had still re∣maind in thee, or would I had neuer knowne delights, which were still sprin∣ging in thee, like thy dainty flowers, and tender grasse which increased in plenty of sweetnes, being corrected for the little height it some times got, by the tender sheep, as my sorrowes abound by the cruelty of my dearest loue. Cruell loue, Ah cruelst of cruelties, why end you not your tyrannies, or let tyrannie end, with ending me? Cursed be the time I euer suffered the vn∣rightfull Monarchy of loue to gouerne me, & thus to soueraignize ouer me, giuing wounds, and a little easing them, as to make one hope, the danger of death were past, of purpose to make them more intollerable in the suffe∣ring, els why brought you me from ioy to misery? then a little to enioy a glimmering hope to be put into a darker night of sorrow with parting from it, els might you haue left me in the sweet Morea, when Pamphilia smiled on me? Loue you inuited me, but steru'd me, you againe feasted mee, but poy∣son'd me, forcing me to drinke of absence. You (said Dolorindus) doe lament, as if alone you were appointed to suffer, or alone did indure affliction, when too couetously you hoard vnto your treasure, what belongs to other men; you call loue a tyrant, when you are a greater, taking away the inheritance of others, as from me your friend, who haue as much right to misery as any, li∣uing in as great excesse of it, and hauing as large possessions in that gouern∣ment: then spare me liberty to complaine with you, permit mee to say mis∣fortune is as much mine as yours, and then like fellow subiects let vs bewaile the weight of that vniust tyranny. Pardon mee deare friend (said he••), if I would wholly take ill to my selfe, since it is to free you, and all worthy peo∣ple from that, which I am fittest to beare, as a creature fram'd for the vassa∣lage of Loue, and his crueltie: but since you aske liberty to bewaile, take it, and let that bring your freedome, while it redoubles on my breast, as being mine and yours, tell mee then all your woe, and know you speake to woe it selfe in speaking vnto me. Then Dolorindus (beginning with the set order of louers, which is with sighes and teares) began his discourse thus. Free from the knowledge of harme, it was my hap to meete a Lady, hunting in a great Forrest, attended on by many braue Gentlemen and Knights; but being more then woman-like excellent in riding, she had left her Ladies, or rather they had left her, not able to attend her in that surpassing quality. I young, and affecting sport, fell into the company, marking more that braue Diana then the chase shee followed, which was of a Stagge, who though hee tooke pride in being so pursued, and that it was in him to make her follow, stoutly commanded her atten∣dance, yet cowardly flying from her, thinking it better to trust to his speed then her mercy, yet was he rewarded at last fit for his merit, for stan∣ding

at bay, as if to threaten her doggs, and euen before her face gazing on her, she stroke him with a Crossebow to the heart; then weepingly hee fell downe at her feete, groaning for her vnkindnesse: yet was not this the cru∣elst blow she gaue, for (O me) shee did likewise wound my breast. Then came they all about her, admiring the hurt, while I admired, any seeing her, could liue vnwounded. Some prais'd the hounds that so truly hunted: I prais'd mine eyes that neuer were at fault, till they brought home the honor of the day, which was the losse of my poore heart, hunted by mine eyes vnto that bay.

When all the rights were done, and doggs rewarded (I alone vnsatisfied for my great gift), shee nobly intreated the company to goe with her vnto her house, which all agreed vnto, and my selfe vnknowne to any there, tooke my way with them, boldly aduenturing on that inuitation. We sat downe at dinner, all the discourse was still vpon the sport that morning, the Stagge afforded them, to which I gaue a poore assistance, for hauing been bred a∣broad to learning, and to armes, I was an vnexperienced hunts-man, which she marked, and accordingly made vse of, telling mee, that sure the hunting was not pleasing to me, or the want of that exercise had made me vnskilfull in the discourse. I said, the latter was the true reason, for till that day I neuer saw that sport, though I had knowne the field delights in many sorts. Then fell she to discourse of martiall things, being excellently learned in all the Arts, knowledge no way scanting her. Thus dinner past, when horses a∣gaine were brought forth, and she waited on by vs, went forth to see Haukes flee, spending the after-noone in that delight, inuiting vs againe with her, when before supper, choyce of musique was bestowed vpon vs: all these did well, and best to serue her best beloued selfe; but these (alas) prou'd but more hurts to mee, making mee by them see my greater losse, loue like a se••∣pent poysoning my ioyes, and biting my best daies, venomd all my blisse, making my new pris'd wound death to my hopes, and sorrow to my soule.

Pitie I wanted, pitie I sought, but pity durst not ask; and thus did griefe take me, & in me make abiding: commiseration was the mark I aimed at, but feare held my hand: I saw her faire and delicate, and therfore imagined soft pity to be within so sweet a cage; yet had her eies such powerful might, as gaue com∣mand, that none should dare to claime so rich a blisse; ouerwhelmed with the cruelst spite that Nature could inflict vpon a man, I remaind, which was fild with a youthfull bashfulnesse, which ouerswaied my humblest heart, disasters glorying in my patient suffering, excessiuenesse of sorrow flowing in me, for now was the time to part; or if I would remaine, I must not hide my selfe, or longer stay vnknowne; for then was her husband to returne from a iourney made vnto the neighbour Ile, wherefore I thought it not amisse (the com∣pany all gone) to take my time, and thus I spake vnto her.

If that which I must say should turne to giue offence, accursed would I thinke the time, and words I go about to vtter; but comming from a man wholly deuoted to your seruice, I hope they will produce such ends, as they are now directed to, and so may make me blessed, if blessing can descend on one so much vnblest yet as my self: this time wherin I haue enioied the full of outward ioy beholding you, hath yet brought loues attendants, losse & feare

with it, losse of my libertie tyed wholly to your wil, & feare in my heart, if you despise my loue; cause of affection I can challenge none for me, if not in gra∣titude to me, who giue my self for it, a strangers name may make you scorne me, not knowing worth in me, but boldnesse, fitting all contempt; these yet you may cast by, for this stranger, your seruant, am sonne to the King, and your humblest louer Dolorindus. She (who before did in her lookes mani∣fest the breeding of a curst reply) a little smoothed the tempest of her rage, and wi••h sober reuerence, demanded pardon for her vsing me with no more respect; and yet my Lord (said she) the fault may sooner be pardoned, since 'twas you which were the cause of it. Then did I againe solicit: she modest∣ly, but confidently much refus'd. Her husband then arriued, who knowing mee gaue free and noble welcome; I sought how still to induce the man to loue my company, and to seeke it, which hee did also, hauing his ends, which surely he might gaine, so I might compasse mine; to which (for all her chast replies, and curious preseruing of her honour in her words), at last I did ob∣taine, and so her loue, in as equall measure, as mine was to her, which was without compare, had hers not equald it.

Thus it continued for some yeeres; all the mirth and sports that were in Negropont, were still at her Castle; Maskes, Iusts, Huntings, nothing can bee thought on, that was not in plenty at her house. My selfe (though sonne vnto the king, yet my sister being to inherit the kingdome) was not so much lookt after (if not by no••le minds) as shee who was to rule; so as I gain'd by that meanes, both more freedome, and lesse ouer-seers of my actions. To a Maske that wee had there, wherein I was, a Lady came, whose ill 'twas to fal in loue me, and so violently did it flame, as it grew dangerous; if she were re∣fus'd, a womans hate (which is the deadliest) I was to expect; if I consented, iust disdaine from my deare selfe I was to merit. Hate could not stirre mee to such ill, but feare (lest it would blaze vnto her hurt) made me yeeld some content. In these two straites I was: if I would haue asked leaue, and told the cause, it yet might purchase doubt: if I denied, certaine hurt ensued. To auoid both, I did kindly vse her, and such words spake before my onely loue, as I did wish, that she should vnderstand, while still the other tooke them to her selfe.

Thus it was well: but how could well long last with me? from this well grew my worst ill, and that ill, all my woe; for my loues husband grew to doubt his wife, which well he might: for though she were assured, or truly might be of my faith to her; yet could shee not but sometime shew dislike, that she sought to win me, or that she should aspire to be her riuall loue; this made that secret deare affection seen, which so long had laine close, wrapped vp alone in knowledge of our soules. Hee had no sooner found this, but hee straight studdied by skill to be reueng'd, and yet to seeme still ignorant of the plot; and thus his wicked practise he began. A solemne feast hee made, which was to last for twelue whole dayes, the reason he alleaged was this: an old man once did say (whose skill was very great in the Art of Diuination, as 'twas held), that he should neuer liue to fiftie yeares of age; which time being then expired, this feast for that cause was appointed. Many Ladies thi∣ther were inuited with their Lords, and many knights, who were to win faire Ladies, and with the rest this amorous Lady came, whose welcome to my

loue was like hers vnto me. I grieud that shee was there, because I saw shee did displease her eyes, who firmely held my heart. The Lord (whose name was Redulus) neuer shewed better cheere, his heart neuer more foule, nor thoughts more ••ulled with base fram'd tricks. At the first show, which was by candle light, and neither Masque nor properly any one thing, but a min∣gle of diuers sorts; I sate betweene those two, whose loues in seuerall kindes I held: my Ladies intruth mix'd with a little feare, the other in violence heated with dislike. I had but one loue, yet of force shew'd two; faith and sincere affection to my choyce dissembled: and a faign'd respect to her had chosen me. The husband watching all and catching with as ma∣ny seuerall watches, our close looks, as spiders flyes, with numbers of her webs: then did his wit begin to play that part allotted to it selfe, which was to throw a spitefull iarre among vs three, which was effected by this diuili••h meanes; flouting the Lady whom my soule best loued, telling her how shee had made such a choyce hee could not blame her for, since hee a Prince, a dainty youth, a neate and courtly Knight, delicate, amorous, how can hee bee s••ene without admiring, and then louing? yet truely wife, said he, I better doe deserue your loue, since I haue loued but you, and you haue many partners in his loue: I speake not this for iealousie, nor am I an∣gry with it, or displeased, but onely pitty you who are deceiu'd. Courtiers you know will loue choyce of Mistresses, alas what lucke haue you to fall in∣to this snare? to loue, and to be couzened of your loue, by one you make your friend, and sweet companion? iustly yet this is done, that you afford your friend a part in all. Selinea (for so was she, deere shee my, Lady cal'd) knew not at first with what face, or in what kind to receiue these words; the husband first was the informer, the businesse his dishonour, the losse hers, the fault her louers, these call'd her sharpest and best pleased wits to ayde, at last shee thus did say. My Lord, you say you pity me in this kinde; were I guilty, you had more iust cause to hate me, for truth in men (except your selfe) their truths and falshoods are indifferent to me, hauing no fur∣ther reason to commend, prize, or dislike them, but for vertues sake, and so am I in my owne opinion blessed in your loue, as I should despaire of bles∣sing if I deseru'd it not in the same height of loyalty: for the Prince, he hath (it is true) many noble parts able to win womens affections, but yet none such where true worth remaines, as to diuert them from a vertuous life, since that leaues the name & property when it runs to change. If I were single, it might be I should as soon like him as any other; but I lou'd you, and loue you, neuer to change from that loue: therefore I pray you take home your before-giuen pitty, and bestow it where it wants, since I haue yet no vse of it, and continue that loue you did beare me, which shall be requited with as lasting a faith in me. He who expected rather a curst and sharpe answer, then so milde an one, tooke her in his armes, and kissing her, swore, hee lou'd her well before, but now his heart was wholly hers: thus shee, as shee hop'd, had satisfied him, who seem'd contented, but his minde was no more then before quieted; for then hee went to Melinea, and talking with her, discour∣sed how infinitely hee was afflicted with the wrong that Dolorindus did him in his reputation and honour, courting of his wife so publikely, and stri∣uing to discredit him vnto the world, and so vndoe his happinesse at home,

which hee enioyed while Selinea lou••d him: but now such power had the earnest and importunate loue of the Prince gained ouer her weake powers to resist, as hee had made her his. But yet sayd Melinea he loues her not assuredly, as you imagine. Bee not deceiu'd sweet Melinea, said Redulus; for neuer did man more passionately affect then Dolorindus doth, did you but see his sleights, nay his passions if they faile, you would sweare no man did violently loue but hee; his sighs, with folded armes, and stealing lookes, discouers what hee feeles. How haue I seene him when he talk'd with you, and kiss'd your hand, throw euen his soule out at his eyes to her? Surely, my Lord said shee, you cannot see this, but you doe speake it onely to trye if I would proue so vnworthy as to ioyne with you in doubt of her, who is as good as faire. No I protest said hee, I speake as I belieue and know; but yet I am assur'd that his loue is the greater, and the cause that shee did euer bend to thinke of loue: A Princes name is able to attract a chast-borne ••aide to know loues heate and force; what then can loue and strong affe∣ction ioyn'd win on a woman? Take you heede faire maid, loue is a power that will, though once gainsaid, the second time come in with armes, and make your chastest thoughts contribute to his taxe, had you beene in the chamber, or but mark'd the piercing darts hee sent by lookes of loue, such as had beene enough to burne a heart that would contend, but yeelding, to make ioy glory in greater pride, then euer ioy did know. I found some ver∣ses too, which hee hath made, and giuen his mistresse; by them you may ghesse in what estate his restlesse burning soule continues flaming to my vt∣ter shame, and ruine of my name.

Then tooke hee forth some verses which indeed I doe confesse I made and most vnfortunately lost; those lines gaue full assurance of the truth, and bred as true a hate in her to vs, which though she stroue to couer and dissemble, (with show of sorrow onely for my griefe) yet hee perceiu'd, as hauing eyes of Art, and those directed by a diuellish wit, these found what hee did seeke; then wrought hee still on that, and so at last came to his pra∣ctise end; which happened the day before the feast had full conclusion in this haplesse kind.

The iealous and despightfull Melinea, when dancing did begin, of purpose let the paper fall, but so as Selinea must bee next to take it vp, which soone she did, and opening it, discerned it was my hand, and that the sub∣iect of those lines was loue, which was most true, but alas falsly held from her, to whom they, and my firmest thoughts, were onely bent and dedica∣ted, with affections zeale, and zealous loue; these and my negligence in not seeking to confirme her trust, confident of her loue, made her alas belieue too soone.

The paper was with faigned anger snatched quickly from my mistris, shee with blushing said, Why Melinea, I thought you had not beene one so much giuen to Poetry till now? I made them not said shee; No, (sighing said the other) I know that, with which shee looked on mee, but with so cruell eyes, (and yet affection went with them, though sha∣dowed with her scorne, which might be pitty call'd.) These strake my heart in sunder with their sight: (O mee, cryed I) haue I fram'd these to spoyle my fortunes which should haue procur'd my blisse, by telling

what I could not vtter? speach tyed by a power of a greater might. Alas that euer I did take a penne in hand to be the Traytor to my ioy; this griefe made me as guilty seeme by shame and silence, which did then possesse my most distracted senses, as if I had been as false as they made me appeare. The dauncing went still on, but she (who was the best) like to her heart she rul'd her feete, in sad and walking pace; now was the plot well forward, hee wrought still, and finding fault there was no nimbler sports, came and in∣treated me to take his wife, and so begin a more delightfull daunce. Hee saw my griefe, she found his drift, two hated mee to death, all were disor∣derd, but I onely lost; thus pass'd the night, the morning come, to part we were directed by our words giuen at the meeting. Faine I would haue spo∣ken, but shee who thought me false, auoided it, and gaue but liberty to say farewell, which euen with teares I did: She loath now to behold me, who of late she lou'd, cast downe her eyes, not gracing me with one poore looke, which though disgracefull, yet as hers, had beene more welcome then the sweetest smiles that euer louer ioyd in from his Loue. Thus we were parted to dispaire and losse, yet meant I not to leaue my mistris so, but quickly found a meanes to visit her, when she continuing still her cruell frownes to mee, I got yet liberty by my cares watch, to speake with her, although against her minde; but then more cruell then the fiercest Lyons enrag'd by famine, did bring forth these words.

False man (said shee) haue you not yet enough, that your deceipt hath come vnto mine eyes? For, false you are, else had you lou'd me still, you would haue diligently cleer'd this doubt: but O you thinke this not enough, nor I sufficiently afflicted with your fault, but more you would intice me for more paine, glory in your iniustice, and make triumphes for your ill, blaze to the world the sinne of your ingratitude, and change, and that once done, hope then to winne againe; but who? none but so lucklesse, and vnblessed a soule as I was, who did trust you, cruell you, the worst, and falsest of your changing sexe.

This being said, but force could hold her; wherefore for feare of fur∣ther rage, I let her goe, remaining like the Creatures Metamorphos'd into stones. Yet at last, I went into my Chamber, and there framd some lamen∣table lines, to let her see, how cruelly shee had with scorne, and strange mistaking, martyr'd mee. When I deliuered them, shee tooke them with these words, Ile reade them, said shee, onely to perceiue how well your vaine continues in this change; or, if you please, Ile be you messenger and giue them Melinea from your selfe. These wounded mee more then the sharpest Sword, but more alas, grew my mishapp: for she hating so much, as once before she lou'd, desir'd me to loue my selfe so well, as to refraine to shew my eyes to her, where so much false ingratitude did dwell, and for my sake, shee would not onely doe the like for mee in keeping from my sight, (least I with seeing her should see my shame) but would for my foule fault, hate all mens loues; this I besought her to recall, she said, it fixed was: then went I thence and mourned a while vnseene; at last, my Fathers mise∣rie called me to succour him, that done, againe, I sought to gaine her par∣don, but alas, in vaine, for she resolud to nothing but my griefe, shunn'd as she promisd my then loathed sight. After her husband dyed, I then did woe

her, offered marriage, sought with more then Vassal-like desire, but nothing mooud her, vntill loue againe did take anew the conquest of her heart, ma∣king her contrary to all her likings, (which shee till then had publish'd) choose a braue yong Lord, in truth a worthy man, but contrary in all the outward markes which heretofore she said could winne her loue.

When I saw this, I knew there was no hope, I left her, and the Coun∣trey, blaming fate that thus had made me causelesly accursed. Farewell (said I) deere Lady of my soule, and farewell all loue to your wayward sex, where iudgement liues but in the shallow being of an outward sight; curst is that man that puts least trust in you: more certainely the ficklest weather hath, more staidnesse feathers, and more profit drops of raine in Snow which melts with it, while you spoile onely me: thus I departed when she married last, and then for her sake vowed, as she had done, but with more manly constancy, to hold a true and a loyall oath, neuer to loue, or chuse a Crea∣ture of so light a kinde, as generally all women bee, the best alone being good, that while she's pleas'd she will giue equall loue; suspitious s••xe, and fondly ignorant, that will not know the truth, least truth should shew the fault, in base suspecting without cause.

Stay, stay, said Steriamus, you grow curst against the louelyest, sweetest, happiest birth, that euer earth did beare; your mother was a woman, and you must be fauour'd by an other, to be blessed with braue posterity. Wo∣men, why blame you them, the dearest soules, and comforts of our soules? Loue in aboundance made you too farre crost, blame Loue then, not her scorne, which surely was not scorne but perfect griefe. Be charitable, and aske pardon for this sinne, for neuer will I giue it other name, nor suffer those blessed creatures to sustaine so great abuse, as your rage layes on them.

As thus they were in deep, and almost collerick dispute, against, and for the worth of women kinde. Parselius and the Hermit did arriue, who went that day together for some foode, but when they heard mens voyces, and both lowde, they went into the Caue, and so did end their argument with kind conclusion: for straite Parselius was discouered to his deare and louing friend, who likewise was with teares of ioy embraced, where altogether they remain'd, with loue relating still their fortunes, which did passe away the time with pleasant sweet content; for such was paine to them so tru∣ly borne, as ioy had gain'd that name if offer'd them.

But now Pamphil••a hasteth homeward, and the greatest Lady must dis∣patch her guests. The Queene of all bra••e beauty, and true worth, Pam∣philia, thinking it long to heare her fate in Loue, yet daring not for mo∣desty to aske, what most she coueted to vnderstand, fai gn'd a desire to re∣turne againe vnto her People, who expected her, this also was a truth, and therefore iust excuse.

The Lady knowing most things, also found this drift, yet did as finely striue to couer it; wherefore one day dinner newly done, she tooke her company into a roome, the fairest and best furnish'd of that place, and by a witty sleight diuided them into the windowes, and some pretty places eue∣ry one a sunder from their friend, each one imagining she was with 'tother, then came shee to Pamphilia and thus spake: Rarest of women for true

loyalty, I know your longing which proceeds from loue, a••d grieue I doe, that I cannot be blessed with power to tell that happinesse you seeke, but Destiny that gouernes all our liues hath thus ordain'd, you might be happy, had you power to wedd, but daintinesse and feare will hinder you: I can∣not finde that you shall marry yet, nor him you most affect, many afflicti∣ons you must vndergoe, and all by woman kinde, beware of them, and so the better speed.

Pamphilia onely sigh'd, and turnd her blushing face vnto the window, while the Lady went vnto Vrania, to whom she thus discours'd. Fayrest, and sweetest, leaue off your laments for ignorance of your estate, and know that you are daugher to a mighty King, and sister to the brauest liuing Prince, the honour of all Knights, and glory of his Country, renowned Amphi∣lanthus; the manner, and the reason of your losse, shall bee brought to you in a fitter place. Now for your loue, alas that I must say, what De∣stinie foretels, you shall be happy, and enioy, but first, death in apparance must possesse your dainty bodie, when you shall reuiue with him you now loue, to another loue, and yet as good, and great as hee. Bee not offen∣ded for this is your fate, nor bee displeased, since though that must change, it is but iust change, bringing it from him alike disquieted.

The Lady left her, who impatient of her ill went to Pamphilia, whom shee found still without speech, and as (if one would say) fix'd like the heauen, while the world of her thoughts had motion in her griefe. Vrania likewike vex'd in her soule, shew'd in her face the small content shee knew; they both stood gazing in each others face, as if the shining day Starre had stood still to looke her in a glasse, their bloud had left their cheeks, and sunke into their hearts, as sent in pitty downe to comfort them; at last assured confidence did come and plead for part, and so they sate and spake; while Mellissea pass'd vnto the King, to whom shee onely told that faire Vrania was his sister, and that although so deare to him, yet to make her liue contentedly, he, and none else must throw her from the Rocke of St. Maura into the Sea; feare not, but doe it (said shee) for this must make her liue, and forget her vnfortunate loue, (which vertue that water hath.) For his Loue, she did assure him hee was bless'd in that, if being certaine of her heart, could bring it him; but yet said she; Nay, say no more, cry'd he, this is enough, and let me this enioy, Ile feare no ills that Prophesies can tell.

Then went he to the window, where hee found the sad sweet couple, whom he comforted, kissing his Sister, and with eyes of ioy, telling Pamphi∣lia, he was happy yet: then Ollorandus came, and so Perissus with his Queen, who Mellissea had assuredly foretold, the constant being of their happy dayes. Antissius was the ioyfull'st man aliue, for he had such a lucky fortune giuen, as to loue well, and to bee well belou'd, and what was most, to gaine that he most sought, and happily still to continue so; the like had Selarina, so as well it might be said, these of all the others had the happiest states. Good Allimarlus, and his louing loue had promise to obtaine, so all are bless'd but those to whom best blessings did belong. All thus resolu'd, they thinke of their returne; Pamphilia homewards needs would take her way, but Amphilanthus gain'd so much at last, with helpe of faire Vrania, and the rest,

as she resolu'd to see Morea first, & therfore sent Mellisander vnto Pamphilia to satisfie the Councell of her course, and to assure them of her speedy cōming to them, after she had seene her Fathers Court; so with kind farewells they left Delos, soone after landing in Messenia, and with all this royall troope came to the aged King, whose ioy was expresselesse grown, to see this com∣pany, the glory of those parts. Much did he welcome faire Vrania, glad in his heart to see her, who he knew would bring such comfort & content vnto her father, his beloued friend. Feasts were proclaim'd throughout the kingdom, Iusts, and all exercises were brought forth to welcome these braue Princes to the Court, Pamphilia's honour, honouring all the rest; yet could no•• that, or any other ioy (though all ioyes were so plentifully there, as bare accepting had inioyed them) giue least delight to her, whose wounded heart did feede vpon the sore, was lately giuen by cursed fore-telling of her loosing fate. Into the garden woods (her old sad walke) she therefore went, and there as sadly did againe complaine. Alas Pamphilia, said shee, lucklesse soule, what cruell Planet gouernd at thy birth? what plague was borne with thee, or for thee, that thou must but haue a vertue, and loose all thereby? Yet 'tis all one, deere loue, maintaine thy force well in my heart, and rule as still thou hast: more worthy, more deseruing of all loue, there breaths not then the Lord of my true loue. Ioy then Pamphilia, if but in thy choice, and though henceforth thy loue but slighted be, ioy that at this time he esteemeth me. Then went shee to the Ash, where her sad sonnet was ingraued, vnder which she writ:

TEares some times flow from mirth, as well as sorrow, Pardon me then, if I againe doe borrow Of thy moist rine some smiling drops, approouing Ioy for true ioy, which now proceeds from louing.

As she past on, she heard some follow her, wherefore looking backe, she discernd Vrania and Amphilanthus, to whom she straight returnd, and with them walked as while vp and downe the wood, til Amphilanthus aduised them to sit downe, so laying his Mantle on the grasse, the two incomparable Prin∣cesses laid themselues vpon it, the king casting himselfe at their feete, as though the only man for truth of perfection that the world held, yet that truth made him know, that they were so to be honourd by him; then laying his head in Vrania's lap, and holding Pamphilia by the hand, he began to dis∣course, which they so well liked, as they past a great part of the day there to∣gether; Pamphilia still desiring him to tell of his aduentures, which hee did so passing finely, as his honour was as great in modestly vsing his victories in re∣lation, as in gaining them: but when hee spake of Steriamus, his finding him and his passions, he did it so pretily, as neither could procure too much fauor for him, nor offend her with telling it, yet still did she hasten the end of those discourses, which he no whit dislikt; but Vrania desird stil to heare more par∣ticularly of him, as if she had then known what fortune they were to haue to∣gether; at last the king proceeded to the comming to the Iland, now cald Sta∣lamine, anciently Lemnos, where (said he) the Lady is called Nerena, a woman

the most ignorantly proud that euer mine eyes saw; this Ladies ill fortune was to fall in loue with Steriamus, who poore man was in such fetters, as her affection seemd rather a new torture, then a pleasure to him: yet left she not her suite, telling him she was a Princesse descended from the kings of Roma∣nia, absolute Lady of that Iland, and for his honor (if he knew truly what ho∣nour it was to him) his loue. He told her, 'Twere more credit he was sure for her, to be more sparingly, and silently modest, then with so much bold∣nesse to proclaime affection to any stranger. Why (said shee) did euer any man so fondly shew his ••olly till now, as to refuse the profferd loue of a Prin∣cesse? and such an one, as if a man would by marriage bee happy, should bee onely chosen as that blessing? I am (said hee) truly ashamed to see such im∣pudent pride in that sexe most to be reuerenced: but to let you know, that you too farre exceede the limits of truth and vnderstanding, by vainely o∣uer-esteeming your selfe, I will assure you that I loue a Princesse, whose feete you are not worthy to kisse, nor name with so fond a tongue, nor see, if not (as the Images in old time were) with adoration; nor heare, but as Oracles; and yet this is a woman, and indeed the perfectest, while you serue for the con∣trarie. How call you this creature, said she? Steriamus was so vext that plainly she cald you so, as he in very fury flung out of the house, nor for the two daies which wee staid there, afterwards euer came more in; shee perplexing him still, leauing him in no place quiet, till she got your name. Then made shee a vow to see you, and follow him, till shee could win him, letting her proud heart bow to nothing but his loue, wherein the power of loue is truely mani∣fested. I would be sorry (said Pampilia) to see her vpon these termes, since she must (fild with so much spite against me) with all malice behold me. I wish she were here (said Vrania), since it is a rare thing surely to see so amo∣rous a Lady.

Thus pleasantly they passed a while, till they thought it time to attend the King, who about that houre still came forth into the Hal, where they found him, and the aduenture soone following, which he last spake of: for the kings being set, there entred a Lady of some beauty, attended on by ten knights, all in Tawny, her selfe likewise apparreld in that colour; her Pages, and the rest of her seruants hauing that liuerie. The knights being halfe way to the State, stood still, making as it were a guard for the Princesse to passe through, who went directly to the king; then making a modest, but no very low reuerence, she thus spake. Although your Maiesty may well wonder, first at my com∣ming, then at the cause, yet (I hope) that excuse I bring with it, will pleade for my iustification. It is not (I am most assured) vnknowne to you, although one of the greatest Christned Kings, that loues power is such, as can com∣mand ouer your hearts, when to all other powers, you scorne so much as yeelding. This hath made me a subiect, though borne absolute; for whatso∣euer I seeme here to be, yet I am a Princesse, and Lady of the sweet, and rich Stalamine: but alas to this Iland of mine, came three knights (knights I call thē, because they honor that title, with esteeming it higher then their own ti∣tles, for Princes they were, & the rarest some of them of Princes, as when you heare them namd, you wil confesse with me). One of these, my heart betray∣ing me, & it self neuer before toucht vnto the subiectiō of his loue, wherof if he had bin so fortunat as to be able to see the happines was fallē vnto him in it

he might haue iustly boasted of it. But hee slighting what his better iudge∣ment would haue reuerenc'd, refused my affection, mine, which onely was worthy of gaine, being so well knowing as to dispise liberty in giuing it selfe to any of meaner qualitie then Steriamus, whose proud refusall, yet makes me loue him, and take this iourney in his search, comming hither where I hop'd to find him, both because I heard he liued much in this Court, and that hee had bestowed his loue vpō your surpassing daughter Pamphilia; these brought me assurance to win him, hauing giuen my selfe leaue to show so much hu∣mility as to follow him: next to see that beauty which he so admired, and as if in scorne contemned mine in comparison of it, which I thinke, Sir, if you well behold, you will iudge rather to merit admiration then contempt•• Faire Lady said the King, that Prince you speake of hath been much in my Court, and not long since, but now indeed is absent, not haue we heard any thing of him, since his departure: for your loue, it is so rare a thing to bee found in one of your sexe in such constant fury, as to procure, and continue such a iourney, as that of it selfe (without the mix••ure of such perfections as you see in your selfe) were enough to conquer one, that could be ouercome: but for his loue to my daughter, there she is to answer you if she please, and cleare that doubt, since it is more then euer I knew that the Albanian Prince did loue her, more then in respect vnto her greatnesse. Nereana turning to Pamphilia, earnestly, and one might see curiously, and like a riuall, therefore spitefully beholding her, thus spake. Well might hee (braue Princesse) be∣stow his affections where such vnusuall beauties do abide; nor now can I blame him for prostrating his heart before the throne of your excellent per∣fections. Pamphilia blushed, both with modesty, and danger, yet she gaue her this answer. Madam (said she) I know you are a Princesse, for before your comming hither, I heard the fame of you, which came swifter then your self, though brought by loue: and in truth I am sorry, that such a Lady should take so great and painefull a voyage, to so fond an end, being the first that e∣uer I heard of, who took so Knight-like a search in hand; men being vs'd to follow scornefull Ladies, but you to wander after a passionate, or disdainefull Prince, it is great pitie for you. Yet Madam, so much I praise you for it, as I would incourage you to proceede, since neuer feare of winning him, when so many excellencies may speake for you: as great beauty, high birth, rich pos∣sessions, absolute command, and what is most, matchlesse loue, and loyaltie: besides, this assurance you may haue with you, that to my knowledge hee loues not me, and vpon my word •• affect not him, more then as a valiant Prince, and the friend to my best friends. Thus are you secure, that after some more labour you may gaine, what I will not accept, if offered me, so much do I esteeme of your affectionate search.

These words were spoken so, as, though proud Nereana were nettled with them, yet could she not in her iudgement finde fault openly with them, but rather sufferd them with double force to bite, inwardly working vpon her pride-fild heart, and that in her eyes she a little shewed, though she suffered her knees somewhat to bow in reuerence to her. Answere shee gaue none, scorning to thanke her, and vnwilling to giue distaste; hauing an vndaunted spirit, she turned againe to the King, vsing these words.

For all this (said she) great King, I cannot thinke but Steriamus loues this

Queene, for now doe I find a like excellent mind inclosed within that all-ex∣celling body, such rarenes I confesse liuing in her beauty, as I cannot but loue his iudgement for making such a choice. and the rather do I belieue he loues her, because he affects hardest aduentures, and so impossible is it I see to win her heart, as it may prooue his most dangerous attempt, yet brauely doth he, in aspiring to the best. Then braue king, and you faire Lady, pardon me, and iudge of my fault or folly with mild eyes, since neither are mine wholly, but the Gods of loue, to whom I am a seruant. The King told her, more cause he had to commend, and admire her, then to contemne her, since for a woman it was vnusuall to loue much, but more strange to be constant. After this, and some other passages, Amphilanthus and Ollorandus came, and saluted her, gi∣uing her many thankes for their royall welcome: she kindly receiued them, desiring them to giue her some light how to find Steriamus: they answered her, that from Delos, he was directed to an Iland, called St Maura, but more they knew not, nor heard of him since his going thither with another good Prince, calld Dolorindus.

Hauing this little hope of finding him, she gaue them thankes, and so took her leaue, nor by any meanes could they perswade her stay, in her soule ha∣ting the sight of her, who though against her will had won, and then refu∣sed that, which shee for her onely blessing did most seeke after, yet would she honour her worth, which openly she protested, but neuer affect her per∣son. Thus the strange Princesse departed, neither pleased nor discontented, despising any passion but loue should dare to thinke of ruling in her: but because she must not be left thus, this story shall accompany her a while, who tooke her way to the sea, thinking it better to trust her selfe with Nep∣tune, then the aduentures which might befall her, a longer iourney by land.

She taking ship at Castanica, meant to passe among the Ilands, and by power commanded the Saylers to bend their course for St. Maura, which they did, but in the night the wind changd, and grew high, turning (towards day) to a great storme, not meaning to be curst, but when the fury might be seene; thus were they with the tempest carried another way then they intended, and at last safely (though contrary to their wils) being in the Mediterran sea, were cast vpon Cecily, at a famous place cald Saragusa. Then she, who saw there was no way to contend against heauenly powers, would not in discre∣tion chafe, though blame her fortune: on land shee went to refresh her selfe, and so passed toward the Citie of Seontina, where shee determined to stay some dayes, and then proceede, or rather returne in her iourney, the weather being hot, and trauell tedious.

One dayes iourney being past, shee wild her seruants to set vp her tents, hard by a Wood side, where shee had the benefit of that shade, and before her a delicate greene Playne, through the which ran a most plea∣sant Riuer: shee liking this place, which (as shee thought) humbly by delights sought to inuite her stay in it, as a Woman that would take what content shee could compasse, for that time laid aside State, and to recreate her selfe after her owne liking, went into the Wood, pre∣tending, her thoughts would not bee so free, as when shee was alone, and therefore bid her seruants attend her returne: they willing to o∣bay

her, and best pleased when twas for their ease, let her goe, who ta∣king the directest way into the heart of the Wood, and so farre, (not for the length of the way, but the thicknes, and the likenesse of the paths, and crossings) as she wandred in amaze, and at last quite lost her selfe, straying vp and downe, now exercising the part of an aduenturous louer, as Pam∣philia in iest had call'd her, a thousand thoughts at this time possessing her, and yet all those as on a wheele turnd, came to the same place of her des∣perate estate. One while she curs'd her loue, then dislike of her folly, for aduenturing, and rashly leauing her Country: she raild at the vncareful peo∣ple who permitted her to haue her fond desires without limiting her power, but that she check'd againe, for said she, rather would I be thus miserable, then not absolute. Blame her Desteny she extreamely did, reuiling her birth, and all that euer she had gloried in, except her selfe, with whom her owne ouer-valuing conceipt, would neuer let her quarrell; she wish'd Ste∣riamus vnborne, or that her eyes had neuer seene him, spitefully imagined Pamphilia had bewitched her: in summe, often times cursing all, seldome or neuer speaking, or thinking good of any, all good thoughts wholy bent to her owne flattery, which by that, were made ill. Vow she did to turne away all her seruants and take new Sycillians to attend her, but that was as quickly corrected, wishing she had her old ones with her, only now desiring to bee at Lemnos, where shee might freely speake ill of that Enchantresse Pamphilia, who hath (said she) with her beauty ouerthrowne my loue, and lastly forespoken my iourney and the finding of Steriamus.

Thus chafing, rayling, cursing, and at last crying for anger or feare, shee straglingly continued till night shewed her sad face, threatning more cruelty for her punishment. Her seruants sought her, but in vaine, so as halfe the night being wasted, they gaue ouer till the next morning, concluding then to deuide themselues, and so looke for her, none fond of finding her, so proud and curst she was: but dutie told them shee must bee sought, lest shee fin∣ding her selfe neglected, might bring their greater harme; so some taking charge of her tent, and other, prouision, the rest, with part of her Damsels went in search of her; they trauelled, while she at night being weary, laid her downe, and hauing finished her exclamations, with meere wearines of enui∣ous thoughts fell asleepe, resting till break of day, when she was awaked by one, who gently pulling her by the sleeue, and then folding her in his armes, vsed these words.

Liana (said hee) why alas thus long hast thou tormented thy poore slaue Allanus? O looke but louingly now vpon mee, and for that loue-looke, all former ills shall bee forgotten, thy scorne shall bee no more thought on, thy cruell strangenesse, and causelesse suspition no more presented to mine eyes, nor shall thy leauing me be mentioned, nor thy flying from mee, put againe in remembrance, all shall rest vncald, as bills cancelled; throw off then thy curstnesse, and now embrace mee with thy pardoned loue? hold mee in thy fauour, as I doe thee in my breast: striue not anew to abandon me, who liu'd but in thy search, and will to please thee now die, rather then liuing, giue offence vnto thee.

Shee whose pride could hardly permit the embracing, if Steriamus had offered it, before she loued him, seeing (the day now broke) a man thus

bould, and what was more for her vexation all tatter'd, and torne, his ray∣ments like one, who in contempt of handsomenes had put on those missha∣pen, and ill suited cloathes, and for newnes raggs, in great dispite. Villaine said she, touch me not, nor dishonor my habits with thy rude handling them, strugling with all her power to get loose from him, who mildely said hee would not offend her. Thou dost offend me sayd shee. Thou hast long af∣flicted me sayd hee: let me goe hence Villaine cry'd she: O pitty me sayd Allanus? I hate thee sayd Nereana. These curst words being to a madde man, as indeed this ragged creature was, distractedly fallē into that miserable estate by mistaken loue: he fell into his old fits, and then forgetting him∣selfe, his finding her, Liana, and all, grew to apprehend, that this was the Goddesse of those woods, who had put on that habit to disguise her selfe. O pardon me diuine Goddesse sayd hee, who haue thus farr forgotten my selfe towards you, but blame your outward shew rather then my neglect? She, the more he spake, grew the more distemperd, at last with rage growing almost as madd as he, who now, fully perswaded shee was that Goddesse, whether she would or noe, would worship her, and that he might be sure of her stay, hee tide her to a tree; then to haue her in her owne shape out of those vestures, which he imagined made her vnwilling to abide with him: hee vndress'd her, pulling her haire downe to the full length; cloathes hee left her none, saue onely one little petticoate of carnation tafatie; her greene silke stockins hee turn'd, or row••ld a little downe, making them serue for buskins; garlands hee put on her head, and armes, tucking vp her smock-sleeues to the elbowes, her necke bare, and a wreath of fine flowers he hung crosse from one shoulder vnder the other arme, like a belt, to hang her qui∣uer in: a white sticke which he had newly whittled, he put into her hand, in∣stead of a boare speare: then setting her at liberty he kneeled downe, and admired her, when she almost hating her selfe in this estate fled away, but as fast as his sad mad nesse would carry him, he pursued her. The more he fol∣lowed, the greater was her speed, till both weary, and shee breathlesse, cast herselfe downe by a cleere spring, (into it she was about) but the picture of her owne selfe did so amaze her, as she would not goe so neere vnto her metamorphos'd figure. This spring was in the middest of a faire meadow, the ground painted ouer with all sorts of dainty flowers: the weeping of it running waste, seeming merry tears, or a pleasant mourning; but she past the pleasure of those delicacies, sense hauing out-gone her, or at least (in great weaknes ready to depart) lay vnvaluing as ignorant of those sweete delights, till night being againe come, she yeelded vnto the iust demaund of sleepe, her body being too weake for such a spirit. The madd man in like maner rested, but a prety distance from her; towards day she was awak'd, and cal'd from her rest, by a songe which was sunge by one not farre from her, who in like manner had there taken his lodging; day was a little break∣ing forth, like hope to enioying, which made her see, the voyce belong'd to a Knight of excellent proportion, for so much she might discerne, with a soft (but sweete) voyce hee brought forth these words.

HOw doe I finde my soules extreamest anguish, With restlesse care my harts eternall languish?

Torments in life, increasing still with anguish, Vnquiet sleepes which breed my senses languish. Hope yet appeares, which somewhat helpes my anguish, And lends a sparke of life to salue this languish: Breath to desire, and ease to forgone anguish, Balmes, but not cures, to bitter tasting languish. Yet strait I feele, hope proues but greater anguish, False in it selfe, to me brings cruell languish. Could I not hope, I suffer might my anguish At least with lesser torture smart and languish. For (Rebell hope) I see thy smiles are anguish Both Prince, and subiect, of e'relasting languish.

O Nereana, said she, what luckles chance is befallen thee? how art thou lost, abused, neglected and forsaken? yet these thou art not altogether fallen into, since thine owne royall spirit shall neuer leaue thee, and if once thou can••t but get free from this place, thy worth and deserts shall shine more glorious ouer these mishaps, and thy power reward thy seruants disloyalty: and now it may be, nay I assure my selfe, here is a meanes presented to me for my de∣liuery; with that rising, she went where the Knight lay, who after the song remained a little quiet, (I meane in show) comming to him, shee vsed these wordes. Sir, welcome to this place, since I assure my selfe you are of purpose sent to doe me seruice. The said Knight looking vp, and seeing her strange odde attire, gessing her by her speech to be as vaine, as her apparell was phantasticall, rising from the ground, hee said. If my seruice (which would proue to my perpetuall griefe) were alotted to madnesse, I cannot finde where better to bestow it, then on you; otherwise, I trust I shall not attend your follies. My follies, cryde she; I tell thee greatest Princes may esteeme themselues honour'd, if I command them. If distraction rule them, I belieue they cannot finde a fitter mistris, answer'd he. O God said Nereana, when was vertue thus abused? I tell thee base Knight, I am a Princesse. I am not base, said he•• nor can I thinke you are a Princesse, since so vnprincely termes come from you. Why, what are you said shee? I am not ashamed of my name said hee; wherefore (if you can, and haue such vnderstanding as to be sensible of it,) know that I am cal'd Philarchos, youngest sonne to the King of Morea, and brother to Parselius and Rosindi, and to finde Parselius, (whom wee haue lost) I am now going. I thought you were said shee de∣scended of some insolent race, for much do you resemble that highly admired Lady, your proud Sister Pamphilia. Hee who was naturally melancholly, and sadder now, because in loue, grew extreamly angry, yet moderating his fury hee onely replyde thus. A woman and being madde, had liberty to say any thing: whereupon hee went to his horse, and leaping on him made as great haste as if he had fear'd infection, leauing her in all the disorder that might be imagined, the trampling of his horse awaked the mad man, who being now out of his former fit, but still distempered rose, and going to the spring to drinke, found Nereana sitting by the side of it in such a passion as shee perceiued him not till hee was close by her; then rising in a chafe, she would haue left the place; but hee staying her, faire Nymph said hee, flee

mee not, I meane no harme vnto you, but rather wil beseech you to be mer∣cifull to the most haplesse of men, and to this pitty I coniure you by the true and earnest affection that Alfeus bare you: by his loue I say, I sue to you to haue compassion of mee, turne this sweet water into a spring of loue, that as it hath beene euer called by that blessed name of Arethusa, you now hauing taken againe your owne shape, and resumd your naturall body from that Metamorphosis, taking name, and a new beeing againe vnto you, hauing by this gain'd a God-head for euer, blesse, and inrich this water with that gift, that when my cruell (but still beloued) Liana, shall drinke of it, the vertue of it may turne her heart to sweetest pitty. Nerena, as much affraid as her proud spirit would permit her, remembring how hee had vsed her the day before, amazed with what hee said, neuer hauing heard of any such thing as a Metamorphosis, her wit lying another way, scorning his sight, disdaining his speech, and yet forced to suffer it; in few wordes, doubting that silence might inrage him, she made this answer. I am not a Nimph Arethusa, nor a Goddesse, but a distressed woman. Then said hee, are you the fitter for me to keepe company with: not so neither, said shee, for I am a Princesse. Can Princes then bee distressed, said hee? I thought they had beene set a∣boue the reach of misery, and that none but Shepheards and such like, could haue felt that estate. O yes, said Nerena, and I am heere a spectacle of the frowne of fortune; wherefore let mee intreate you to giue mee some ••ase in my affliction, which is to leaue mee, since your company is one of my troubles. Would my sorrowes were as soone to bee helped, as your re∣quest might be granted, then should I bee in hope to bee, said hee, happy: but alas, mine can neuer haue end, yours may and shall; for I will no lon∣ger trouble you; with that hee sadly went from her, leauing her, whose in∣tolerable pride was such, as shee would not let him stay so much as in her presence, though after shee wished for him, and would gladly haue had his conuersation, pardoning his meane estate and madnesse. So long was shee in that place, as famine, cold, and want wrought kindnesse in her, who else despised, and contemned all, and all thinges; from hill to hill shee went, louing them for imitating the height of her minde, and because shee might by their helpe see if any passengers pass'd that way, besides to hide her selfe among the bushes, euen as it were from her owne selfe. Now berries and such poore food was her richest fare, aud those esteem'd, since they held her life with her: thus was truth reuenged of ignorance, shee continu∣ing thus.

While Philarchos held on his course till hee came to the City of Syracusa, where standing vpon the hauen, there arriu'd a great troope of Ladies, and braue Knights; but one Lady (seeming the onely one for delicacie, and to bee the mistresse of the rest) passing by him, cast her eye on him, viewing his rich armour and braue stature, instantly staying, saluted him thus. Sir, your outward countenance tels me, that in so excellent a body, as braue a mind inhabits; from you therefore I beseech pitty and assistance, being like to perish otherwise, vnder the disfauour of my father; if you will aid a distressed Lady, and thereby gaine honor to your selfe; grant this vnto your seruant Orilena, Princesse of Metelin, and some other neighbouring Ilands which lye in the Archepelago. Hee whose spirit was wholly guided by

worth, stedily beholding her, replide, that his greatest happinesse (and that whereto he onely did aspire) was to serue Ladies, to defend them from in∣iuries, and to bring them to their best content: wherefore although hee had promised himselfe another way (or indeed no perfect knowne way, since it was in search of a brother of his) that, and all other occasions should be laid aside, to relieue such a creature as her selfe; and in this he spake truth, for this was the Lady he loued, she yet ignorant of it. Then she intreated the knight to goe aboard with her, not desiring to delay time; hee was soone intreated to such a blessing: wherefore he consented, and being in the ship, she began her discourse thus.

A Gentleman in Mitalen, being son to the richest, and noblest man for de∣scent in all the Country, my father hath chosen to bestow on me; this man might (I will not deny) more then merit me, were his conditions answerable to his meanes; but as he is rich in all worldly treasure, so he is the treasure of all hellish properties: the best of his qualities which are smooth fashion, and eloquent speech, turnd, and imployd to no other vse, then flattery, and deceitfull glozings. These worke on my father, and so haue they their part in me; hee beleeues, and loues him; I perceiue, and hate him; but which workes most with my father is, that he so much seemes to desire me out of af∣fection (as he sayes) that hee will take mee with nothing; such affection and fondnesse my father beares, and carries ouer a young sister of mine, as to make her Princesse of his Ilands, he consents to giue mee to this Prince of wicked∣nesse; I hauing no meanes to saue my selfe from the destruction this loa∣thed match would bring me, I went to this Lord mine Vncle, to whom I de∣clared my misfortune and ensuing ruine, if I did marry so. Hee taking pitie on me, conueyed me thence with these Knights and Ladies, whose affections to me are such, as not to leaue me in such distresse, but accompany mee rather in aduenture of ill, then assured ill: but alas what shall I say? I am the mi∣serablest of women, if I fall into his hands againe, which I hope you will keepe me from. I was by the aduice of these my friends, put into the search of Amphilanthus, the honour of Knights, of Parselius, Rosindy, Perissus, Steriamus, or Selarinus, all which are famous men, whose ho∣nours shine equally, and either of whose assistance had been assured gaine: but some of them are (as I perceiued by one I met) so farre off, and there in such imployment, as I ventur'd not to obtaine their fauours: af∣ter I met a knight, who told mee, Amphilanthus and Perissus, with the valliant Ollorandus, were gone into Morea, wherefore thither I purposed to goe, but a storme tooke me, casting me vpon this place, where I haue gaind this happinesse (as I hope it to my selfe) by finding you; wherefore I pray honour me, with telling me who you are.

Most worthie Ladie (said hee), since you had desire to haue some of these named Knights, you may thinke your fortune the worse in find∣ing mee, and putting confidence in mee, so farre short of those Prin∣ces: wherefore I would desire to conceale my name, till my actions may allow the bold discouerie of it; let mee then (I beseech you) bee so fauoured by this second honour, as to giue mee leaue, onely to bee called your Knight, till I merit by my seruice to you, your know∣ing more of mee. Shee granted his request, verily imagining him to

be some of them by his speech, and thereupon her comfort increased. Then did she bestow a very rich and costly armour on him, his owne hauing been but hardly vs'd, by a curst, but ouerthrowne enemy, which hapned in this manner. After he had left Athens, and at his returne receiud the honour of knighthood, it was his determination to seeke his brother Parselius, and to that purpose he pass'd through his fathers Countries vnknowne, not leauing any aduenture vnattempted, wherein hee might make triall of his force, which hee made so good testimony of, as he was feared in all those parts, be∣ing calld the Knight of the Speare, by reason he carried the figure of one in his sheild, as he did that shape on his arme: but hearing no newes of his bro∣ther, hee tooke to the sea, and among the many Ilands, it was his fortune in Metelin to win and loose, where his greatest honour he obtaind, his freedome hee lost, happening thus.

Passing by a strait way into a faire meadow, hee saw a maruellous rich, and costly Pauillion placed, about it many Tents, and before them all, a shi∣ning Pillar of Gold, whereon were written these words: The worthiest Knight, and Seruant to the fairest Lady, defends this, and the honour of themselues, against any bold man that dares gaine-say the worth or beauty of them. He scorning such presumption, strake vpon the Pillar: whereupon one came to him, telling him, his Lord would soone encounter him. Straight came he forth, being one of the cruellest, and hard-fauoredst men, that could be a man, and no monster; his bignes extraordinary, his fiercenesse such, as could not be withstood with ordinary strength: armed he was with plates of yron, and his horse answerable to his master in all things, so as an excellent choice was made, as if both framd for one another, and neuer were two beasts better matched; none fit to ride the one, but he who was fittest to be master of the other. This creature came (with a troope of his vassals before him, for so he calld them) into the field, each of them carrying the Sheilds and Helmets of those knights he had conquered before that Pillar, all which they placed in order as they were wonne, but for his greater glory, on the ground. Then aduanced he to the Greeke Prince, scornefully pitying him, who so boldly ventured his youth against such an experienced conquerour. But hee in whom vertuous modesty liu'd, mixt with manly strength, only desired the fight, rather then discourse; so they ran one against the other with such com∣linesse, fiercenesse, and strength, as in either part was seene rightly placing those properties. The Prince had his Helme strooke off; the other was run thorow the shoulder, part of the staffe staying in him; withall he fell from his horse, but being recouerd, and seeing the danger the other was fallen into by losse of his Helme, he in regard of that, forgot his hurt, and with furious rage set vpon the Prince, who couering himselfe with his Sheild, as nobly and brauely defended himselfe; they fought till the bloud ran as fast from their wounds, as dropps from a louers eyes, comming from as heart-bleeding a cause; for at last the Monster was killed, and the Prince taken out of the field for dead; but who except loue could be such a Chirurgion; for whether was hee brought but to the Princesse, who lay but one league thence, an excellent Chirurgion, and as excellent a Ladie, who so carefully tended him, as hee in short time recouered, but to a more lasting paine (for fauour and cures bringing tormenting wounds), shee put balme

to the hurts giuen by the enemy, but shee a friend foe-like did make much deeper, and more harmefull ones, piercing the heart which in the fight kept it selfe secure, now fallen into extremitie of losse: but what was gaind be∣sides this? danger, and threatning ruine: for the younger sister cald Erinea fell inamord with him, and so passionate was she of him, as she ran to her fa∣ther, cast her selfe at his feete, besought him to get that stranger for her, or to see her soone buried. He whose fondnesse was, and is without expression, vowed to satisfie her. The Prince got notice of it, and so priuately stole a∣way, his affections being gratefully, and passionately placed on the other, kindnesse wounding, and bringing loue. Then passed he, where he heard still of the flourishing fame of his kindred: lastly, his Brothers losse, which hee gaind by the meeting of the Squire Clorinus: then vowed hee a search for him; but finding her, for whom hee had lost himselfe, hee left the former to follow her, and find himselfe; so stormes sometimes prooue blessings, for one tempest brought them in one place to meete.

Thus passed they together, he freely (because vnknowne) beholding her; she kindly, because hee was to serue her, entertaining him: then at last they arriu'd at Metelin, where they met for their first welcome this encounter; a Pillar of red Marble, as threatning bloud, on which hung in bloudy letters these words, written in white Marble, seeming like drops of bloud in snow; The true Seruants of Erinea maintaine this with Sword and Speare against all, that doe defend the trayterous Knight of the Speare. He, whom this did most concerne (yet hauing power to performe his former resolution) inly fretted, but otherwise made no other show, then in demanding of the Lady, who this Knight of the Speare was. She sighing, made this answer: Alas my Lord (said she) you lay too hard a taxe on me, since I cannot pay it, with∣out yeelding as tribute many teares, and euen the breaking of my heart to say he is, and is not now here: but yet to deny nothing to you, who so free∣ly haue granted my request, I will say what I know of him; He was, and (I hope) is the true image, or rather masculine vertue it selfe; the loueliest that Nature framd, the valiantest that followed Mars and his exercises, the wisest that wisdome dwelt in, the sweetest that noblenesse grac'd with sweet mild∣nesse, and the mildest that sweetnesse honourd: excellent in eloquence, true in profession, and making his actions still the same with his word; truth go∣uernd him, and he truth, honord by being so true in worth: but for his name, or birth, I can say nothing, since but after a cruell combat I first saw him brought halfe dead to mee; yet so much spirit had that decaied fire left, as burnt my heart. I might blush to say I lou'd, because a maide should not thinke of, much lesse acknowledge such a passion: but Sir, to deny that which is truth, I should wrong you, and most abuse my loue, which grew from an vnusuall ground, when pale wan lipps won kisses, where dispaire made hope, and death affection: but from these sprung my desires, which lie as deadly wrapt vp now in folds of losse, no expectation of any good remaining, but that my faith which still liues shall breathe iustly in that loue, till life to death giue new possession.

How came your hopes so to despaire (said hee)? Alas Sir (said she) the sight of his wounds, and image of death, made me at first feare in loue; then hauing recouerd him, I hoped in loue; but then my younger sister (of whom I

haue spoken, still being the barre in my ioyes) fell in loue with him, as mea∣ning to disinherit me in all possessions of very thoughts, and the deare enioy∣ing of them, for yet my loue aspired no higher then to thinke of him, not ad∣uenturing to let him see I lou'd, so she gaind thus much of me, shee spake to my father, she wooed for her selfe, she vowed, she plotted, she did al to gaine, and ruine me. But he, whether pitying me: for surely Sir, he could not chuse but know I lou'd him, since my fashion shew'd it, though my speech not da∣ring boldly to say it, flatteringly demonstrated, some thing made those faul∣trings in my talke, my blushings said, I surely feared, or loued, and feare must of necessitie be barr'd, since he was rather prisoner vnto me, though I indeed was subiect to his loue.

But are you freed (said he)? O no (cride she) nor euer will, nor was my lothnesse to discourse for that, but for this desperate affliction; he finding he was sought, and not consenting to bee made by force to yeeld, to other then his owne made choice, he stole away; and truly say I so, since he robbed mee of my best and chiefest part. Oft haue I curst my selfe, that I ne're followed him, or did mistrust that he would so depart; which though in loue I would not haue gainsaid, yet with my Loue I would haue gone along: a Pages ha∣bit for his sake would I haue prized more, then Princes Roabes at home. But he did goe, and I vnblest maid remaind behind, vnhappy, dispossest, and disin∣herited of all, if you doe not relieue me to some good, which I expect alone from you to haue.

Doe you not know that Knight (said he) who thus you doe affect? Thus farre, said she, his face is so ingrauen in my thoughts, his picture drawne so liuely in my heart, as soone his knowledge would come vnto me, if I might be happy with his deare sight. Deare Lady (said hee) I can thus much say, he loues as much as you haue here expressed, and yet that is so fully to make him plainely discerne the heauen of true content, as if ought might make him more deere appeare before your eyes, he would attempt to gain that, though the losse of life must attaine it; loue then still him, who is your best beloued, and loues you best, and only, and thus take vnto your seruice that so wishst for Knight, more happy, in this exprest loue, then in a million of possessed Iles. I am the man you doe inrich with loue, I am the blest borne man to such a fate, and I the true vnfaigned louing man, who loues loue truly for this happie loue. She blushed to see she had first told her tale, but he did kisse away that blush, for then had he throwne off his helme, and held her in his armes, bold∣ly possessing what she freely gaue. She saw him, knew him, and so knew al ioy. Then put he on his helme, and strake the Pillar thrice; straight from a Wood, a little distant off, tenne knights arriu'd, the formost of the which thus spake. Fond man be gone, this worke is not for thee, vnlesse thou be that Traytor we expect. I am no Traytor (said he), yet the man you falsely haue call'd so, and written too.

Many haue fondly said as much, said he, who after haue recanted, and yet lost their heads, for taking falshood to themselues. Falshood ne're liu'd, or had a spring in me, I am Philarchos, Knight of the Speare, said he, sought for by Erinea, but disdaining her, am hither come to right her sister Orilena, wrongd, and abusd by her.

With that they parted, soone againe they met: but he who now knew twas

no time to spare, aimed fully at his hart, which hee did, parting it to deuide the former wrong among the rest, who followed him in fate. The second at the encounter lost his horse, and brake his thigh, with meeting with the earth; the third his ribs: then did they surely finde this was the Knight. The fourth did breake his arme, and shoulder both, the fift had but a fall and found his legges to runne away, and call more company, while all the other fiue at once, (and contrary to the law of armes) assayled him. He now was to win his prize for honour and loue, wherefore couragiously he withstood them all, though the blowes that met at once, giuen by foure speares, were terrible, yet hee like the pillar of true worth stood vnmooud; the fift kill'd his horse, so as hee was forced to fight on foote, leaping nimbly from him, as disdayning to haue a fall, any way, or on any termes, they rudely assayl'd him, keeping their horses: but soone had hee brought two of them more humbly to yeeld, and respectiuely to encounter him: for wounding the horse of one of them, he ran away with his Master, madd with the hurt, and casting him, he hanging by the stirrop, neuer left running and striking, till he had torne him in peeces; the other he stroke off his arme, with the anguish of which blow he fell from his horse, the Prince quickly leaping vpon him. Now were there but three left, and he againe mounted, fear'd not what their forces could doe vnto him, and soone made he an end of them; one hee wounded in the body to death, the other with a blow on the head, the blood springing out of his eyes, nose, and eares in greatest aboundance choked him, he hauing no time nor means, to pull off his helme, so neere the braue Knight followed him, nor had it beene to any other end, if he had gayn'd the op∣portunity, then as if he would with good manners haue stood bare headed, to haue his head cut off with more respect, and ease to the Conqueror, who now had but one left to withstand him, who seeing his fellowes fate, would not indure, but turned his horse and fledd; yet before he went, the Knight perceiuing his intent, (not caring to hinder him,) cut the bridle, and raines of his horse, which gaue him such liberty, as the poore distressed runaway, knew not how to gouerne him, nor himself: if he leap'd from him, he fell in∣to the hands of his enemy, whose fury he durst not trust; if he kept the saddle, he was in as great danger, going where the madnes of the beast would carry him, but soone was hee out of those feares: for Tolimargus (the sweet youth the Lady had described to her Knight, seeing the flight of the poore Knight) encounterd him, and his Knights in number twelue, made a ring about him, while Tolimargus strake off his head.

Then spurd they al towards the braue Philarchos, who had now in this space pulled off his helme, and so taken a little breath, besides drunke a pretious drink Orilena gaue him, which did so refresh him, as he was wel able to haue a second encounter, which quickly hapned, and a sharper then the first: for all those thirteene, desiring either to kill, or take the Prince, ranne vpon him, who fearcelerly attended them, and with his Speare killd the first, with his Sword the second, and then encountred Tolimargus, who he knew to be the cheif by his armor, to whom he thus spake. If worth be in thee, or so much sence to be sencible of the shame thou dost to the honor of Knighthood, let thy knights stand stil, & end the combat with my self, who am as good a man as thou art, and therfore no disgrace, but an honor to fight with me. What art

thou (said he) that thus darest compare with me? I am (said he) Philarchos of Morea. If (said he) thou hadst not thus butcherd my knights, and the rest of my Countrimen, I could find in my heart to grant thy request, nay saue thy life, for I haue no quarrel to any, but to the Knight of the Speare, that Traytor, who hath won my loue, and mistrisse from me, and cowardly run away when he had done. Villaine (said he) he run not away from any man, but from the fond affection of Erinea: and to shew thee the better that hee feares none, nor thy force, here I am, the same Knight of the Speare, to pu∣nish thy presumption for aspiring to my loue. Then set they all vpon him, but what with fury and hate to him, who was his riuall, he did such acts, as in short time he left none to reuile him; the las•• was Tolimargus, who held a∣mong his men, as farre from blowes as he could, till (they were all kild) hee•• was forst to conclude the combat himselfe with the losse of his head, which Philarchos cut off, and presented to Orilena, who commanded it to be set vp∣on the top of the Pillar, and all the other bodies laid about it, as the trophies of that victorie.

This being done, they hasted to a Castle of her Vncles (that good man who had carried her away from her harme) and there they shut vp them∣selues (that place being of good strength) till they could get forces to assist them, or peace with the Duke. While the bruit of this victorie spread it selfe ouer all Meteline, comming to the Dukes eares, and also to Erinea's, shee fell downe at his feete againe, beseeching that shee might bee fauoured so farre, as to haue permission to destroy this rebellious companie, who would (she said) else ruine them. The father old, and doting, graunted it; then she at last brought forth this plot, to proclaime, that whosoeuer could bring in Orilena, dead or aliue, should haue the Castle of the Sunne, (which was the fayrest in that Country, and had beene Apollo's temple) and all the royalties thereto belonging; but he that could bring her aliue, with her seruant the Knight of the Speare, should haue the honour, and Isle of Samos, to him and his for euer. This promise was imagined to be of such force, as to bring in either of them or both: lastly shee layd ano∣ther, which was by promising her selfe to any one, who could bring in his head. This was spread abroad, which made much danger, and hazard to the braue Prince, and his friend; yet such a spirit had hee, as aspir'd to nothing, but the noblest, and most difficult aduentures. Certaine notice the Duke and his amorous daughter got of the Knights beeing there, and his Daughters returne, by the first Knight that fledde, and who was the cause of Tolimargus comming, though hee discouer'd not to him the name of the Knight. Then gain'd they notice of their being at the Castle so as not hauing a readier way, they rais'd men, and violently beseig'd the place, and so straightly, as at last famine grew to be as cruell, and curst a threatner, as the Duke; yet they resolu'd to end there, famished for want of foode, rather then yeeld, and so be famished with want of each others company. Then went they into the Chappell, and there together pray'd, together wept, at last together married, vowing to dye religiously, ver∣tuously, and louingly together. At there returne, they went to eate that poore remaining that there was left them, and hauing done, they went againe to pray; then returned into their chamber, where they spent the night in

full discourse, ye•• so full of loue, as loue seem'd to please it selfe in excel∣lent sorrw: teares, and sighs were the banquets for their nuptialls, com∣plaints of cruelty their enioyings, and what could be wished to giue true delight, contrarily wrought against them.

The morning come they rose, and as one, parted not, but together went to the top of the Castle, whence they saw their ruine, then kissing her, and gently weeping on her face, hee said. My deere, mistake not you these tears, which now I shedd onely in tendernesse vnto your state, and for you, who was sauer of my life; How can life better be disposed of, then to her seruice who did once preserue it? when I a stranger, hurt, and mangled, was conducted to your house, how was I there relieued, and cherished by your care? this was but to this end, and this end is more welcome then a life, which without you I otherwise had gained. Fare∣well deere loue, more kind, and sweete then blessings in distresse; Ile fight for thee, and this must be my last, yet feare I not, for doe but see my end, and that will make me liue with ioy in death, when I see thee beholding me from hence, my courage will increase, and make my blowes more terrible, and fatall, then the harme which falls in stormes from high. Farewell once more my deere, my life, my ioy, and my last comfort: sweete weepe not for me, nor marre those deere eyes, which wound mee more to see them harme themselues, then stroaks that from the enemie can come, and bee as∣sured the victory will turne to vs, if you but let their cleernes shine on me; but dimme them, and I die. The sweetest soule did weepe, yet wip'd away the tears to fauour him, and shew them bright; farewell my life, said shee, if thou dost die, for after thee Ile neuer more see day: then kiss'd they once a∣gaine, and so did part; hee to the gate, whereout he sallied, then arm'd in ••edd: his sheild with the old deuice, which was an Azuer Speare, vpon his ••rme a scarfe of Azuer colour, giuen him by his loue, and thus against the e∣nemie he came, who neuer stay'd to meete him, but with troops incom∣passing him round, who fought with rage against all hope, more then a hope ••o dye like to himselfe, and to renowne his blood, that though shedd by such ••orce, yet so well shedd, would write his fame eternally to times, and wit∣••esse worth with valour ioyn'd, made loue the crowne whereat they lei∣••el'd still.

To say what courage he did show, how many slew, what wounds, what ••roaks, it were but tedious, and most vaine; but so much did hee there, as ••ade a way through the thickest, & so pass'd in spite of what their furyes, or ••heir numbers could doe to hinder him. A path he made of men, and pa∣••ed the ground with bodyes, while their bloods sought how to bath them ••leane, and wash their wounds: which giuen on so ill grounds, did blush or shame. Hee beeing pass'd, and on the other side, cast vp his eyes, to see if ••ee beheld; which when he saw, and that she made a signe to him, to scape, ••nd euen with hands held vp, and knees bent downe shee did beseech, hee ••rauely answered, (with his sword wau'd round about his head, as who ••••ould say) no heere Ile dye, or set my Lady free. With that, behind him ••••me a gallant Knight, and fifty more, who neuer speaking word; as he a∣••aine did charge his enemie, charg'd in with him, and did so brauely helpe, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 in short time, the conquest was dispos'd to braue Philarchos, and his new

come friends; then did they seeke among the prisoners, where they might finde the spring of all this ill; at last they got the Duke; and then with guards brought him into the Castle, when kind Orilena came vnto her Knight, and holding him fast in her tender armes, wellcomd him to his owne, and her command; but as she did embrace him, she perceau'd the blood to runne a∣long his arme, wherefore shee went, and speedily did fetch an excellent baulme, and then disarming him, did dresse his wounde: but when his helme was off, the stranger Knight caught him with all true loue into his breast, and louingly thus said.

My Lord, how bless'd am I to see the Prince I seeke? he also hauing pulld off his helme, but young Philarchos knew him not; wherefore my Lord said he, the honor you haue done this day, is to your selfe, in rescuing a poore distressed Lady, and restoring her vnto her birth-right, which shee else had lost: for me, this fauour, and the aide I had from your braue selfe and these your followers, shall euer binde me to be still your friend, and faithfull ser∣uant, when you shall dispose of me, and mine, which still you freely may, and shall command; yet let mee know I doe beseech you, who you are, and how that you knew me? My name (said he) is honoured most by this braue title of your friend, my selfe am calld Antissius King of Romania, setled, and restored by your excellent cousen, (and the worlds greatest worth) Amphilanthus; the knowledge that I haue of you is this: I saw your picture in the famous Court of your father the Morean King, and withall your name, and many of your acts were there related, while you passd vnknowne, but as the bare Knight of the Speare; ioyes infinitly did possesse the Court, to heare the fame which all parts holds of you: besides, so like you are to that braue King, whom heauen doth fauour for the earths best good, as for his sake, (if for no other cause,) I should affectionatly loue you. The honors which you lay on me (said he) great King are such, as I but weake in worth, can hardly beare the waight of, yet the last affects me most, that I am some∣thing like that matchlesse King, whose worth, ambitiously I seeke to imitate, though sure to come as much below the reach of it, as 'tis from me vnto the cleerest starre.

Then did they bring the King into a roome, where they disarmd him, and then went backe vnto the Duke, whom they had put into a gallerie well guarded, and respected like himselfe: him they found, not ouerthrowne with griefe, for neither was hee sad, nor any way dismay'd, but seem'd to beare his ouerthrow patiently, to him Philarchos thus began. My Lord, for so you are to mee, since I am husband to your elder child, who fondly, and no way humanely, for loue to Erinea, you forget, and would disinherit; but shee, (borne to more good) was first releiud by me; lastly, and most, by this great King, heauen so much fauoring her, as to haue succour sent her from farr parts; before his comming we were marryed, determining to die, (if such our fates) in holy wedlock. Now you may discerne what wrong you did, and if you please, accept me for your sonne, and pardon what with∣out your knowledge, wee in loue, and great extremity haue done; nor thinke shee hath dishonored her selfe, or you, in making me her husband, for I am a Prince, and sonne vnto a mighty King: my name Philarchos, my Country Morea, third sonne vnto the King thereof. Then did the Duke

embrace him, speaking thus: What hath been done, I do confesse was hard, and most vniustly against mine owne child; but she hath married vnknowne vnto me, in that she hath done like offence; so set them iust in sight, and hers the greater will appeare: yet since her choice is such, & where such worth is, as I truly speak, more cannot flourish in so tender yeares, I loue her, and com∣mend her: thus worth doth gouerne, where rule els would shew. Then kist he his new sonne, and presently his daughter was brought forth, whom he did kindly welcome, and so did conferre that Iland straight vpon the new maried couple, making him Prince of fruitfull Metelin, and other Ilands which were also his: but himselfe and Erinea left the ioyfull payre, and went to Samos, where they liued, she studying how to vexe or hurt her sister: thus ill na∣tures breath but in malice, and feede still on spite. Then did the young Ro∣manian King take leaue, first telling how he came vnto that place, which was by chance; for leauing the Morean Court, vpon the comming of the happy newes of Victorious Rosindy, hee desired to returne for his owne Countrie, and there he would raise more men (but as he trauelld, he would still inquire of Parselius and Philarchos, whom he long'd to meete), and goe himselfe to succour and redeeme Albania (Loue, what a Lord art thou, comman∣ding ouer all; for Selarina was the cause of this)? Then going back, hee fell vpon this Ile to take in water, and by meerest chance, meeting a Peasant of that Country, learn'd the state at that time, that the place was in; this brought him to the happy succour of the louingst paire that euer lou'd, and did enioy their loues. All well, the Duke departed, and they safe, Antissius tooke his leaue, with Allimarlus, Steward of his house, and many more who did attend on him; a little before whose leauing Morea, Leandrus hasting to his heart, desired to be the messenger of that so happy successe of braue Ro∣sindy, and so there arriu'd, to the infinite content of all the Court; relating the dangerous attempts, but then concluding with the happy end of ioy and mar∣riage, deliuering letters from the King and Queene, who gaue precedence in place, and gouernment to her husband: for (said she) he won the kingdome by his sword, me by his loue; both his, none but himselfe can here beare rule. A little after Leandrus did arriue, Amphilanthus tooke his leaue, and with his Sister went for Italy (as he pretended), but St. Maura was the shrine hee bent his pilgrimage vnto. The night before, great sorrow was, to part, be∣tweene Pamphilia and Vrania; yet time grew on, the king came in, and so with kind and sad farewels, he left the Court, promising to returne with speed, and to conduct Pamphilia to her kingdome, from whence, he by his perswasions had yet detaind her. The way he and his sister tooke, was straight vnto the sea, none going with him, but his deare and faithfull friend Ollorandus; the euening after his depart, Leandrus remaining in the Court, and his passions more violently increasing to the height of discouering, looking out at his window, saw Pamphilia alone in a faire garden, walking in such a manner, as he could hardly giue it that title; for so stilly did she mooue, as if the moti∣on had not been in her, but that the earth did goe her course, and stirre, or as trees grow without sence of increase. But while this quiet outwardly ap∣pear'd, her inward thoughts more busie were, and wrought, while this Song came into her mind.

GOne is my ioy, while here I mourne In paines of absence, and of care: The heauens for my sad griefes doe turne Their face to stormes, and shew despaire.

The dayes are darke, the nights oprest With cloud'ly weeping for my paine, Which in shew acting seeme distrest, Sighing like griefe for absent gaine.

The Sunne giues place, and hides his face, That day can now be hardly knowne; Nor will the starres in night yeeld grace To Sun-robd heauen by woe o'rethrowne.

Our light is fire in fearefull flames, The ayre tempestious blasts of wind: ••or warmth, we haue forgot the name, Such blasts and stormes are vs assind.

And still you blessed heauens remaine Distemperd, while this cursed power Of absence rules, which brings my paine, Lest your care be more still to lower.

But when my Sunne doth back returne, Call yours againe to lend his light, That they in flames of ioy may burne, Both equall shining in our sight.

Leandrus now growne resolute not to loose for want of attempting, would not let this opportunitie passe, nor let slip so pretious an aduantage, went in∣to the garden to her, and indeed it was properly said so, for such businesse had her passions, as til he interrupted them with words, she discerned him not, his speech was this. Is it possible (most excelling Queene) that such a spirit, and so great a Princesse, should be thus alone, and aduenture without guard? My spirit my Lord (said she) as well guards me alone, as in compa∣ny; and for my person, my greatnesse, and these walls are sufficient warrants and guardians for my safety. Yet your safety might bee more (said hee) if ioynd with one, who might defend you vpon all occasions, both with his loue and strength, while these dull walls can onely incompasse you: but if trai∣tors assaile you, their helpe will bee but to stand still, poorely gaine-saying. Loue is oft-times as slacke (being treacherous) answered Pamphilia, from as∣sistance, thus are these walls more secure: and for strength I had rather haue these, then ones power I could not loue. Such is your discretion (said Lean∣drus, as to know, that loue with discretion is the truest loue; and therefore to a braue Princesse, and especially to you, whose vertue and beauty cannot

be demanded by any, whose deserts might challenge meriting of them, dis∣cretion should aduenture to pe••swade you to make choyce of some one you might affect for a husband, since you were not onely fram'd the most incom∣parable Lady of the world, but also a woman, and so to be matched with one sit for your estate, in birth and greatnesse, and so iudgement will continue af∣fection betweene you. Discretion in loue, I must confesse (said she) as discre∣tion it selfe is best•• but if loue come wholly to be gouernd by it, that wil haue so great a power, as loue will loose name, and rule, and the other for ri∣ches, or other baser things, shall p••euaile against the sweetest passion, and on∣ly blisse, which is enioying; therefore my Lord Leandrus, by your fauour, I must say, I thinke you erre in this, and in the truth of loue, which is a supreme power, commanding the eyes, and the heart: what glory were it to him to haue a cold part of wisdome to rule with him? No, his honor is to be alone, and therefore doth he oft expresse it, in making proud and great ones, despe∣rately affect meaner ones, in respect of them, and all to yeeld to his law; they then that truly vnderstand great Loue, must so obserue, as their merits may purchase from him so great a grace, as to be able to choose fittest loues; his power must not be limited, nor his gouernment mixed, as if he had a counsell set about him, or a protector ouer him, his knowledge wanting no aduice, his knowledge neuer knowing partner, who is in truth all wisdome all know∣ledge, all goodnesse, all truth; he must not haue it said, that loue with discre∣tion is the truest loue, since in truth of loue, that is but a bastard, brought vp at home like a right borne child: and yet is his iudgement such, as hee makes discretion shine through all his acts; but how? as a seruant to his greater power; as if your heart should command your tongue, to deliuer what it thinkes, but discreetly to doe it so, as offence may not proceede from it: here is discretion, and yet the tongue is but the hearts messenger. Leandrus, whose end was to procure fauour, not to contend, wittily tooke hold of this last speech, thinking it better to make this the introduction to his loue, then any longer to waite or expect, occasion offered, which if once but let slip, seldome comes againe, so as letting her louelinesse, and her owne words to be the be∣ginning and meanes for his affections knowledge, he answered thus.

Madam (said he) it is most true, that the tongue is but the hearts messenger, yet messengers from such a part, are to haue, and carry credence; then let my tongue bee the deliuerer to you of the most feruent affection that euer heart bare to Princesse, with the truest and vnfaigned loue; disdaine not then my affection, since I will with loyalty and seruice deserue your fauour, as wel or better then any man breathing: a Crowne I will adde to yours, and the soueraigne command of Leandrus: but what talke I of a Crowne to her, who weares the crowne of all vertues? My Lord (said she) I cannot but thanke you for your princely offer; but it must bee my fathers liking, with the con∣sent of my nearest and dearest friends that can set any other Crowne on my head, then that which my people haue already setled there; and the consent of so great a people, and so louing to me, must not be neglected; what vertues are in me, shall appeare through the obedience I owe, and will pay to his Maiesty, and the rest: therefore I am altogether vnable to giue you satisfac∣tion any further then this. It is you that must, & may say all, said he. Then can you haue no answer, said she. Why? are you not (cryd Leandrus) soueraigne

of your selfe by Iudgement, yeares and authoritie, vnlimited by fortunes, by gouernment, and the loue of your Parents, which will goe with you in my choice. These still are but the threads that tie my dutie, replide the Queene: but if they consent (said he) wil you eternise my happinesse with your agree∣ing. Giue me leaue first (said Pamphilia) to know their minds; and that can be no hinderance, nor furtherance of your affaires, nor shall my answere bee more displeasing to you, then now it might be. Your doubtfull answer will breede despaire in me, cryd he. It were much safer (said she) to doubt, then vainely to nurse hope. Then bent she her walke homeward, which he durst not withstand, though fearelesse of any man, or monster, yet trembled hee in her presence; both they went, and so continued both louing: both com∣plaining, and neither receiuing comfort; he beholding her, and in her seeing no affection, nor cause of hope, shee seeing him, but with eyes of thankefull respect without loue; yet went he further, and so still made the greater dis∣tance. Yet was not this all, for her loue was set not to be stirred, or mooued to other course, then whether the fortune of her choice did guide her. She sigh'd, he thought it did become her, and so sigh'd too: she grew pale, and sad, so did he, wanting what he sought. Shee oft-times would discourse of loue: he thought it was the prittiest theame, and answerd her in that. Shee would complaine of men, accuse their fickelnesse, and change, hee ioyned, though contrary in sexe to speake of women, and their slightings.

Thus they agreed, though in a different kind, and both did please, because they both did loue. He stroue by some pleasing talke in a third person to be∣waile his case, she would not know his meaning, yet with wit would let him see she loued, and not himselfe. Cruell it was to vnderstand her affection was else-where placed, yet sometimes would hee flatter himselfe, and giue his fawning hopes leaue to dissemble, and cast a glasse of comfort on him, but glasse-like was it brittle, although faire, faire in hope, broken to dispaire. Loue violentest storme, that can bring shipwrack to a quiet heart, why doe you trauell thus to bring home gaine onely of losse? Bee fauourably kinde, loue should be mild, while loue you are most curst; and this did poore Leandrus know, whose spring-time ioy, was turned to winter-griefe; yet still hee did pursue, and so vnfortunately must proceede. Pamphilia loyall, louing, and distressed, because passionate, that night after this discouery, which though kind, yet to her was displeasing; when each retired to their rest, shee went vnto her watch of endlesse thoughts: into her chamber she hasted, then to bed, but what to doe? alas not within that to sleepe, but with more scope to let imagination play in vexing her; there did shee call his face vnto her eyes, his speech vnto her eares, his iudgement to her vnderstanding, his brauerie to her wit; all these but like that heape of starres, whose equall lusture makes the milky way. One while shee studied how to gaine her loue, then doubt came in, and feared her in that plot; his lookes shee weighed, if out of them she might but gaine a hope, they did assure her ioy, then did her heart beate quick vnto that blisse, but then againe remembrance threatned losse, how he had lou'd, & might again chuse new. False traitor, cryd she, can thy basenes be so vild & wicked, in bringing thus in mind, what thou in goodnes shouldst haue cast away? what if one errd, must that bee registred? what vertues hast thou laid aside, which in him dwell, and thus vncharitably bringst his worser

part in sight to harme him, but thou faylest now I know his worth, and doe excuse that fault, and here I vow to liue a constant loue, and louer of his matchlesse excellence: then turnd she to the window, poore dull night said she, keepe still thy sadnesse till thy Sun appeare, and mine together, shine∣ing as light, Darke art thou like my woes, dull as my wits; with that she laid her downe to rest, but it's not granted her, it must not yet bee, shee must more endure.

Then rose she and did write, then went shee to bed, and tooke a Candle, and so read awhile; but all these were but as lime-twiggs, to hold fast her thoughts to loue, and so to all vnrest which gouern'd her, for till the day did breake, shee thus did wander in her rauing thoughts: then did sleepe couet place, but she was calld to goe a hunting with the King and Queene, which she obayed, and as her manner was, as soone as the Stagge was roused, and Doggs let in vnto his ouerthrow, she followed them, and left the rest, (that either were not so well hors'd, or lese affecting such a violent sport) behind, and brauely in followed the pleasant chase, which did continue till the Sun was set. Then did they with much glory view their spoyles, ioying as in a conquest of great gaine, but what did most content the fairest Queene, was the sweete euening, in which she inioyed all the content the dainty Ayre could giue, which was as cleere, as her cleere heart in loue, and that as cleere, as cleerest sweetest ayre. But as she rode softly to coole her selfe, a delicate sweete voyce inuited her to stay, and so to see the owner of that musique, the voyce did draw them to a pleasant Groue, and then vnto a swift, sweete Ri∣uers side, where on the brinke amonst the seges, sate a Nimph of all perfecti∣ons that were chast; hard by her on the banke her quiuer lay, her bow by that, and she vndressing was to bath, and wash her in that pleasant streame. Pamphilia was almost amas'd, to see so rare, and exquisite a creature as shee was, wherefore commanding all the men to stay, shee and her Ladyes only went to her, whose modesty and bashfullnes was such, as she euen quaked to see those women there, and well might shee, who neuer saw her selfe in shad∣dow, but shee diued to hide her selfe from her owne eyes, yet had shee lou'd.

The Queene perceiuing that she was afraid, most mildly spake thus to her. Sweete Nimph bee not thus dismaid, wee are none such as will giue cause of any harme to you; wee are your friends, and following the sport which you oft do, by chance, or hunters fortune are benighted: going vnto the Court wee heard your voyce, which hath a power sufficient to attract all creatures, like the sweete youths Harpe, that drew dumbe things to admire his choysest tunes: let me not now disturbe you sweetest Nimph, nor barre vs from such heauenly harmony; then did shee sweetly make this fine re∣plye; Great Princesse pardon I beseech this rudnesse in mee, which hath made me dumbe, till now vnable to giue answer, but my lipps vnseald by your great Grace, my speech made f••ee to satisfie your will, I must confesse, when I did see you first I was amas'd, and did wish my selfe againe in this faire Riuer, so to hide my worthlesse selfe from your all iudging eyes. Oft haue I seene you hunt in these faire plaines, and somtimes taste of this (then blessed) brook; behinde the seges, I did once lye hid, when you dry, and farre from all places fit to entertaine your vertues in, sate downe,

and drank of this cleere water. O said I, how blessed wert thou if thou coul∣dest but know into what happinesse thou shalt arriue•• first to bee touched by those best deerest lipps, and so to passe into her royall breast? How did I thinke I saw the ••treames which were below, haste as for sorrow they had miss'd that fate, and those aboue come hastely to catch; if not to touch yet one kind looke on them? this while I lou'd, and so was sencible, but since Dispaire had marryed mee, and I wedded my selfe to chast Dianas life. Let me intreat you sweete Nimph said the Queene, to tell me all your story, and this night will be more pleasing to me, if so spent, then any that my for∣tunes yet haue knowne, she then with reuerence due to her state, thus did beginne her tale.

My name (great Queene said shee) is Allarina, a Sheepheardesse by birth, and first profession, and so had still beene, had I not lucklesly profess'd a Louers name, and left my former happy (because contented) life. At four∣teene yeares of age I first felt paine, but young, and ignorant, I scarce did know what was my torment; •• distempered was, slept not, nor fed, my cou∣lor waxed pale, my mirth decayed, and sighs did wholy breath my breath•• admire my change the Sheepheards generally did, bewaile my ill the sheep∣herdesses would, my parents grieued for me, I for my part knew only that I knew not what I ayld, till one day walking to a pleasant wood, which was vpon a hill, I did consider with my selfe, what was the first originall of all this paine; I could not suddenly find out the ground, till at the last considering well each thing, I found his name most pleasing was to mee, and so as I did in my heart euer thanke the meanes that did bring him to bee but spoken of. None in my thoughts, appeard so excellent, none spake like him, none sung like him, nothing could hee doe, that did not seeme best, and nothing done by others but did shew dull, and quite voyd of any pleasingnes, so ex∣cellent appeard he vnto mee. When this came to my mind, then straight I sight, blush'd, and layd my hand vpon my panting heart, and then cryd out, I hope this is not loue; but loue no sooner was (by poore me) nam'd, but as if cald, he straight possess'd my heart, alas I yeelded then to know I lou'd, and loue ioy'd, I confess'd I was his slaue, and such a slaue was I alas soone growne, as but that slauery •• did affect: my health then alterd, and my mo∣ther put me into the hands of a Phisitian to bee recouered (as shee hop'd) by him, but all in vaine, it was not in his power, the cure was not ordaind for him.

Then came my loue to visite me, which gaue me life, and comfort: thus I did remaine, and fiue yeares loued him, yet hee ignorant that my affecti∣on so was placed on him. I surely borne for this conclusion, could not per∣mit my selfe to say, or shew I lou'd more then in poore sad lookes, blushing when he did aske me of my sheepe, vnsteddily, and with a downe cast looke, not daring to behold what most I loued, for feare of burning what was scor∣ched before. I gaue my answers vnresoluedly; hee by all this perceiued that I lou'd, for twas not sillines he saw, that made that innocent-like fashion shew in me, wherefore he meant to watch me, and so find where my loue was; but then it was too late, for not imagining it was himselfe, hee marryed. After this I grieued, and almost dyed, but remedy was past, and I vndone; yet one night, (blessed night for me, & my desires) he came, & fetched me to his

sisters house, where being set betweene vs two, hee fell into discourse of many pretty things, and all of loue, and all as I did finde, to gayne by arte, to know were I did like; at last we fel vnto a foolish sport, which was, to tell truly what we were asked, and so to draw a lot who should demand; it fell to him, who pretily to couer his intent, he first demanded of his sister, what life shee thought the pleasantest & best. She said, the shepheards. Then he ask∣ed, if euer she did wish in loue, and gaine it to her full content? She said, she neuer could obtaine so iust a satisfaction, for her wish was still aboue the be∣nefit she gaind. Then was it come to me to be his seruant, his question was, Which was the blessedst halfe houre I euer knew? I said, a time I followed a poore bird to shoote at it, and as I thought (O mee the dearest thought) a thought which ioyed my soule, I hit the bird. Who did you thinke of (said he)? Then I blusht, he vrg'd, and swore I marr'd the Play, and must bee pu∣nisht for so foule offence. I pardon askt, and said I would confesse: but when I came to say but these few words, It was your selfe, my speech againe did faile, my spirits fainted, I looked pale, and red, and sigh'd, and smild, and all in instant space; loue neuer had more strange diuersitie then in me at that pre∣sent; I was dumb, then spake a little, halfe what I should say, and turned the rest to comfort my poore hart: then did he take me in his armes, and strictly did coniure me to say out. Why then (said I) I thought on him I loued: this made him yet more curious, holding me still, perceiuing I was not displeased, sweetely perswading me to say the rest; when I with soft and feareful words, afraid to heare my selfe say, I did loue; 'Twas you, said I: he then 'twixt ioy and greefe, wept, the like did I. This pass'd, continually he tended my poore flock, forsooke his owne, if they did stray from mine, his songs were of mee, and my thoughts on him.

Many sweete, pleasant, and delightfull games he did inuent to giue con∣tent to vs, at last his sister grew to malice his respect to me, and to discerne all was for my delight, which hee did studdy, or present to vs: she had much pride, and such as Sheephardesses seldome know, yet flow'd it in her, who else was like vs, milde, and sufficiently witty. This her malice flew vnto the height of slighting me, which I perceauing, let her go alone vnwaighted on, or yet accompanied by mee. Two yeares this did indure, when all plagues grew, for then his wife did likewise did likewise stomacke me, and out of the poore witte she had, (which s••••ce was sense) did manifest her rage. I was in troth most sorry for her hate, so much I loued him, as I loued all was his, and her, though not so well as the worst beast he had, since shee alone I saw my barre for blisse. Hee saw my patience, which was oft times mooud euen into spite, yet couer'd, and suppresd with the deere power of my deerer loue. Then was there entertayn'd at braue Mantinia, a great Embassador, whe∣ther we were call'd, among the strange delights, to represent our innocent pastimes, in which, my loue and I were placed for the cheife, for he at wrest∣ling, and those sports of strength, did farre excell the others of these plaines; my selfe for pastorall songs, dances, and such like had the first place among the maids, and so came I, great Princesse, to be bless••d with seeing you, which sight still liues ingrafted in my breast. But what became then of your loue, said the Queene? Why that alas was al my sorrow, and my change cride she, grew from his change, which in this sort befell: hee hauing thus in pure and

spotlesse sort gaind my best loue, could not yet be content with such enioy∣ing, but did couet more, which to preuent, I found conuenient meanes and slights still to avoyd, which he perceau'd, yet then affected me so much, as nothing could withdraw him from my loue: arguments hee would frame, euen against his owne desires, and sweare, that where true loue was, loose desires were distant, and vnknowne, nor could a man so much affect, where hee had once gaind all, as when he knew there did from him lye hid, a richer treasure then hee had possest, and more deuoutly, and with greater zeale did he loue, where he still was so refused, then if hee had by yeelding obtained all. I did beleeue, and much commend his mind, and what I prais'd, or lik'd he likewise seem'd to be affected with; but what in men can last in certaine kind? there was a meeting amongst vs, and thither on May day euery yeere (beeing the day we celebrated feasts) the rarest, and the choycest beautyes came, among the rest one, who in truth I must confesse, was faire aboue the common beautyes in our time, but of the meanest parentage and ranke, be∣ing a seruant to a Shepherdesse, who was of greatest place, for there is dif∣ference, and distinction made of their degrees, (though all below your fight) as well as in the great ones, and as much curious choyce, and shame to match below their owne degrees, as among Princes, whose great bloods are toucht, if staind with basenesse in the match they make. This woman yet allur'd my loue to change, and what was worse, to scorne me; long I was, before I would perceiue it, yet at last too cleerely it discouered was: she then atten∣ded on the May Lady, of purpose there inticed, where he for his wished ends might her behold.

The heardsman then, who kept the Cattell both of his sisters & his owne, did grow enamour'd of this beautious Lasse; at last, loue gaind the hand of iudgement, and so priuately they marryed, then did he grow more sure, and surely did inioy, for who could with much cruelty refuse, especially not borne to chastity: then were his looks all cast on her, his speeches wholy bent to her, her wit admir'd, her iests told, wondred at, into all company she must bee admitted, all respect her, and I quite cast off; my soule was wounded with it, and my heart wasted, and dryed vp; that truely I was growne a woman, worthlesse for outward parts to be looked on; and thus tormented, I desired oft to speake with him, but hee did more shunne mee, then euer once he coueted my sight. If I came in, where he alone did stand, instantly he went out, or would turne his ba••ke, in sharpest scorne vnto my louing eyes. Aye me, cryd I, am I come to this passe? haue I lost all my liberty for this? haue I aduentured death, and shame, to come vnto this shamefull end in loue? my parents haue I left, and they displeasd haue rated mee, for my immoderate loue, and all to be requited with gaine, at last of fowle disdaine, for feruent truth? The world was fild with my constancy, all with broad eyes saw his disloyalty; some pitied me, others flouted me; I grieued, & yet at last resolu'd either to speak or write; speake alas I could no••, for I did feare to giue offence, still fondly louing him: when I was in my bed, and thought of all my woes, I could resolue to speake my mind, and frame my speeches in as moderate kind as might be, rather demanding pit∣tie, then to discouer, that I did dislike him for his change; but when I saw him, and did view his eyes, if on me, cast but in a cruell sort, so farre I was

from any power, or true ability, to touch of wrongs, or to beg poore compas∣sion, as I stood amazed, trembling, and euen as one cast vnto death. Then did I silently lament this harme, and mournefully bewaile my misery, speaking vnto my selfe, as if to him, and frame his answers like vnto his lookes, then weepe, and spend whole nights in this distresse, my heart almost vnable to sustaine so curst a Dialogue, as I had framd millions of times to vexe my soule withal, at last I writ a letter, I remember these being the contents, and almost the same words.

IF what I write may prooue displeasing vnto you, I wish my hand had lost the vse to write, when I writ this, my eyes, sight for seeing it, and my heart, had then rent with sorrow for punishment, in so offending you, who for al your cruelty, can do no other then loue you still. But the affliction that I am fallen into by your change, makes me send these lines vnto you, & to beseech you by the loue you once bare me, to let me know the cause of your great strangenesse towards me; if proceeding from my part, be iust; and tell it me, who will not onely curse my selfe for doing it, but with all true humili∣tie demand a pardon for it; my soule is purely yours, in loue vntoucht, vnstaind of any blame or spot; faith was the ground whereon I placed my loue, loyalty, the hope I held it with, and my selfe your most vnfained louer, the poore creature to bee looked vpon with reward for these: but you giue scorne, alas once looke on me, that beautie which decayed now in me, once pleas'd you best; when wasted it, but in those yeares I still was true, and chast to you? if my face be not so faire, my mind is fairer, cloath'd in truth, and loue, and thus will I euer deserue you more then any: pity me, alas I craue it, and most iustly from your hands. Did I neglect at any time, what I did owe, to pay vnto your will? if so, my confidence might make me erre, but neuer did I wil∣lingly commit such fault, blame then the trust I had, and iust assurance of my confi∣dence in you: will you reiect me, since I pine for you, the teares which still for you I shed, haue marr'd, and dull'd mine eyes, and made me worthlesse to behold; looke then but on my faith, and pitty me, who will die as I was, and am, which is sincerely yours.

This I read, this I corrected, and often staind with blots, which my true teares in falling as I writ had made. I sent it by a youth, who still had lou'd me, and did serue my loue; he gaue it him one morning as he waked: his answere was, that he would speake with me. The next day he did come, and found me in my bed, bathing my self in my poore, yet choice teares; he most vnkindly onely sat him downe, not once so much as looking on my woes, or me, spea∣king these words, with eies another way, & voice displeasd: You writ a han∣som letter, did you not, said he? Alas said I, what should I do opprest? I am half mad, distracted with your scorne; I could not silent be, nor yet could speake. You wrong'd your self, said he. Wherein cri'd I? With that he rose, & not gi∣uing me so much as kind, or vnkind looks, spake to another whom he cald in, and so together left me and my woe. After that time hee stroue by all plaine waies, and craftie slights, and all to make me see, how I was cast away, and left by him. I patiently did seeme to beare my losse: but oh my heart could not let me doe so, though in the day I stroue to couer griefe, in night time I did o∣pen all the doores, and entertaine each seruant that woe had. Once I remem∣ber after many moneths that this disaster had befallen mee, hee merrily did speake among vs all, and also to me, as one among the rest, and the greatest stranger to his thoughts: I ioyed that so he fauoured me; for though he vsed mee, as but if in triall of my truth, I earnestly loued him, and ioyed to

see him: my poore cold heart did warme it selfe to thinke of what had past, and leapt when I saw him; but yet that leape was like, or did resemble a strong conuultionat the latest gaspe, for then it fell downe dead in my de∣spaire: but being thus together, hee was pleased to say some verses to mee, which were good, and truly such as I did much affect. I thought they were his owne, and so was vext, because to me they did not then belong, as once all that he made, or framed were. He did commend them very much himselfe, and said, he liked the strength that was in them. I said they were most good, and like him, which made them much the better, so discoursing on, I tooke the boldnesse to say something to him, knowing that they might speake in kind for me, and yet my selfe not beg againe, they were these.

WHen I with trembling aske if you loue still, My soule afflicted lest I giue offence, Though sensibly discerning my worst ill; Yet rather then offend, with griefe dispence.

Faintly you say you must; poore recompence When gratefull loue is force, I see the hill Which marrs my prospect loue, and Oh from thence I tast, and take of losse the poison'd pill.

While one coale liues, the rest dead all about That still is fire: so your loue now burnd out Tells what you were, though to deceiuing led.

The Sunne in Summer, and in Winter shewes Like bright, but not like hot, faire false made blowes You shine on me, but you loues heate is dead.

He made no answere, but onely said, they were very fine ones: after this he continued in his peremptory course of hating me, and I in my poore way of suffering all, till so ill I did grow, as though not in him, yet in each one els, I did obtaine, what I did claime from him, for they did sorrow for my mise∣rie, and he still triumph, as if in a gaine to ouerthrow a soule giuen to his will. At last, extremitie of griefe and paine, brought me vnable to doe any thing: those that best did consider my mishape, iustly did know the cause; others smile, and say, 'twas, for I was forsaken; others laugh, and say, I was growne dull: some said, my prose was gone, and that I onely could expresse my selfe in verse. These I did heare, and this in truth had troubled me, if greater mat∣ters had not shut my eares and heart from weighing such slight things as these. I gaue my selfe then wholly to the fields, nor kept I any company but with my flocke, and my next kindred which would visit me. With my poore sheepe I did discourse, and of their liues make my descipherd life: rockes were my obiects, and my daily visits; meekenesse my whole ambition, losse my gaine; and thus I liu'd, and thus still ranne to death. But one day as I past among the rocks, which were both steepe, yet easie to ascend; the coun∣trie hilly, the earth blacke, the mourning onely couerd with Heath and

stones, to expresse the ill nature of that soile: I went still in it, till at last de∣scending one of the steepest, and most ragged of those hills, the top of which was crownd with milke white rocks, in bignesse strange, and fashion farre more rare; I sat downe in a stone of mighty height, which like a chaire in iust proportion, did giue mee roome and ease. Yet some thing vnsafe it was to looke downe (for those whose eyes will dazell if on any high place) for the height was great, and that stood, as if onely framd to sit, and see the bottome directly vnder. Looking a while, I saw some folkes below, and as it were, a Spring where they did drinke: I left the rocke then, and did straight descend vnto the Plaine, the descent was not tedious, but slippery. When I thither came, of all the company, one man was able to declare any thing of the na∣ture of it, for the rest were strangers, and not the same Countrimen. I ciuilly demanded, if that spring were medicinable, or what made them with so much affectionate ceremony to drinke, and as it were, adore it. That man made an∣swere, it was that diuine and sacred water, which did cure all harmes. I blamd him, knowing he had said too much, since only one was fit to bee termed so; but he, more seruant to adoration then diuinity, told me many strange works that water had performd. I did for nouelties take of the streame; drinking of it, I found it did me no harme. Then I demanded, what it would procure? he said, Quiet of spirit, comfort in this life. How long I demanded ought we to drinke thereof? Seuen times (he replied), and thrice seuen dayes. I liuing not farre off, resolu'd the task, and dranke, and found such good, as soone I was alterd in al things but my truth, which now alone to me remaines vnharmd; my whole condition alterd, I grew free, and free from loue, to which I late was slaue. Then finding this true vertue in my selfe, and my poore selfe re∣turnd to me againe, I did embrace it in the same true sort that loue held me, and so we did agree. I loue my selfe, my selfe now loueth me. But after to a∣uoid all new delights, or to bee sued too, or intised againe, •• put on these ha∣bits, hoping by purenesse, and vowed chastity, to win Diana's fauour, which now is all my ambition, and my hope. Thus here I liue in expectation, not as∣surance of her acceptance: into this Brooke I oftentimes doe goe, and now was going iust as you did come; remembrance of my faith I keepe, and ioy alone in that, without desire, or thought of loues varietie. My daies remai∣ning, I haue giuen to truth, and as a Nimph I still will here remaine; my name I also changed with my life, from Allarina to Siluiana, these habits keepe me from discourse with men, my vow from yeelding; so I now liue free, and vn∣controld of Fortunes selfe. My Mistrisse I adore, •• keepe her Feasts deuout∣ly, and thus I doe remaine your humblest Vassall, mighty Princesse, else sole Mistrisse of my thoughts, and freedomes rule.

Happy you are (said the excellent Queene) so to bee able to master your selfe: but did you neuer see him since you wore these habits? Oft-times great Princesse (said she) I haue seene him, and so perceiued desire new in him to win me back, but now it is too late. I must confesse, who once had told me, I could haue beheld his face without my soules affection to it, I should hardly haue belieued it, much more to find my heart so free from loue, as now it is, and as he made himselfe to me, euen a meere stranger; so are now mine ey••s and thoughts as farre, from touch of loue, as if I had been borne neuer to know loue, or such passions, when as once my eyes hung after him,

as steru'd without his sight, my soule lou'd him as a blessing, and I was indeed only his, now am I free my selfe, void of those troubles, loue prouoked in me; I can with quietnes heare all his acts, see him this day intolerably fond of one I hated, then change to a new; all that mooues not me, saue only that I out of pity, pity their ill haps. Once I was iealous, vext if hee did throw by chance a looke on any, but my selfe, that fault he punisht with his sterne neg∣lect, & plagueing me in the sharpest kind, striuing to make me see his change, and scornefully expressing to my sight, disdaine of me, and fondnesse in such loues. These are requited now, he growne to pitie, when I scorne to take it, he to loue me, when I am vowed else-where: thus loue rewarded is with scorne, and scorne, with pitilesse regard returning home. I cannot yet belieue (said Pamphilia) but you loue him still, for all this liberall and excellent dis∣course. I neuer will liue houre (said Siluiana) to hate him, though I am made free from bond of vaine affection; & thus much truly I doe still remaine his friend and seruant, to defend him from all harmes, I may by my respect make void, and were it in my way to doe him, though a iust ill turne, and many leagues off, I might do•• him good, that iourney I would take, yet loue I not ought, but faire chastitie. This sweet discourse concluded, the braue Queene tooke leaue of the fine Nymph, and so returnd, with promise, when she hun∣ted in those parts, she would find her: then going to the Court, she went into her chamber to take rest; little of that sufficed her, for though great as any, yet in loue was as much subiect, as the meanest borne. Pamphilia (said she) can thy great spirit permit thee to bee bound, when such as Allarina can haue strength to master, and command euen loue it selfe? Scorne such seruilitie, where subiects soueraignize; neuer let so meane a thing ore-rule thy greatest power; either command like thy self, or fall downe vassall in despaire. Why should fond loue insult, or venture in thy sight? let his babish tricks be priz'd by creatures vnder thee, but disdaine thou such a gouernment. Shall blind∣nes master thee, and guide thee? looke then sure to fall. Shall way ward folly rule thee? looke to be despis'd. Shall foolish wantonnes intice thee? hate such vice. Shall children make thee follow their vaine tricks? scorne then thy self••, and all such vanities. Yet when all this is said, and that the truest know∣ledge tells me these are true, my wounded heart with bleeding doth professe vassalladge to the great and powerfull might of loue. I am prisoner, guard me then deere loue, keepe me but safely free from yeelding, and keepe me, as thou hast already made me, thine.

Much of the time, she had to be at rest, she thus imploy'd: then rysing, the day telling her all brightnesse waited on her; she rose, and went to the sweete Limena, who accompanied her, into her sad fine walkes, being there alone, (saue with her second selfe,) surely said she, you that so perfectly and so happily haue loued, cannot in this delightfull place, but remember those sweete (yet for a while curst) passages in loue, which you haue ouergone: speake then of loue, and speake to me, who loue that sweete discourse, (next to my loue) aboue all other things, if that you cannot say more of your selfe, then your deare trust hath grac'd me withall, tell of some others, which as truly shall be silently inclosed in my breast, as that of yours; let me but vn∣derstand the choice varieties of Loue, and the mistakings, the changes, the crosses; if none of these you know, yet tell me some such fiction, it may

be I shall be as lucklesse as the most vnfortunate; shew me examples, for I am so void of hope, much lesse of true assurance, as I am already at the height of all my ioy. Limena beheld her, both with loue, and pitty, at last; my dearest friend (said shee) fall not into despaire, before ioy can expresse, what surely is ordain'd for you. Did euer any poore drop happen to fall but still for loue? Will you be poorer then the poorest drop of raine, which for the loue to earth, falls on it? raise vp your spirit, that which is worthy to Monarchise the world, drowne it not, nor make a graue by sad conceits, to bury what should liue for royalty; yet if you doe desire to heare, of Loue, and of loues crosses, I will tell you a discourse, the Sceane shall be in my Countrey, and the rather will I tell it, since in that, you shall see your selfe truly free from such distresse, as in a perfect glasse, none of your true perfections can be hidden, but take not this tale for truth. In Cicilie (not far from the place which gaue my Father birth, and where I much was bred) there liu'd a Lady, mother to many, and delicate Children; but, whether her fortune fell with the losse of her Husband, (as many, wofully haue with that felt their vndoing) or that misfortune (so great a Prince) ought not to be vn∣attended, I know not, but she affecting her friends, as friendship could chal∣lenge, a young Lord came with one of her neerest allies to visit her; this vi∣sitation made him see her daughter, elder then three more, that at that same time were in her house: he receiuing welcome, tooke it, and occasion to come againe, those againe commings brought mischeuous affection, that af∣fection, mischiefes selfe, for thus it happ'ned.

The Lady lou'd him, hee liked her, he sued, she innocent could not deny, but yeares did passe before they did enioy. At last, three yeares almost worne out, he found a time, or rather her, much vnprouided for refusall; both ex∣treamly louing, nothing was amisse as they imagin'd, nor was ought denyde, some yeares this passed too, in all which time, shee who did onely loue, for Loues sake, not doubting least that might bee a touch vnto her affection, or spot in so much clearenesse, as her heart held to him, let busie speeches pass vnregarded, smil'd when friends bid her beware, esteeming her constant opi∣nion of his worth, richer then truths which she thought falshoods while they were against him. Thus the poore Lady was deceiu'd, & most miserably vn∣done, he falling in loue with one so inferior to her in respect of her qualities, compar'd with hers, though of greater ranke euery way, as his neerest friends condemn'd him for so ill a choice; but she was crafty, and by art faire, which made him looke no further. At last, it shewed so plainely as she must (if not wilfully blinde) see with the rest; but how did she see it? alas with dying eyes; all passions compar'd to hers were none, the ordinary course of sorrow abounded in her, rising to such a height, as out flew dispaire; melancholy was her quietest companion, while monefully she would sit, dayes without words, and nights without sleepe. Oft would she tell these paines before him, though not to him, pittifully would she lament, and hee take no more notice of it, then if he heard it spoken of an other. Alas would she cry, I am no more worthy to liue, I am a shame to my house, a staine to my sex, and a most pittifull example of all mischeife; shamefull creature, why liuest thou to disgrace all thy friends? poore soule, (poore indeed, but in true goodnes) leaue this vnhappy body, take thy selfe away, and when thou hast

left me, it may be thou mayst be better, and win pittie: hence foorth must blame infould me, now must shame couer me, and dispaire with losse de∣stroy me; yet hadst thou chang'd to a better, and constanter, it would not so much haue vext mee, but when I see my deserts, my loue, and my selfe cast off, onely by subtiltie betrayed, and in so vild a place, alas it rents my heart, both with losse, and your fault. Can worth procure no more fauour? must all yeeld to outward fairenes? she is faire I confesse, so once you thought I was, and if not so perfect, thanke your owne strangenes, and my teares shed for your falshood, which haue furrow'd, & worne wrinkles, (where smooth∣nesse was) with their continuall falling. Had you no way to shun me, or my loue, but by your change? you might haue iustly dealt yet, and but say'd, I can no longer loue you, I had then sate downe alone with losse, but now doubly afflicted, as loosing, and being deceaud; your want of truth, is a greater plague to me then my misery, in that I lou'd you better then my selfe, so much is your vnworthines my extreamest torment. Oft was I told that I would hurt my selfe in trusting.

I reply'd, I had rather bee wretched in losse, then vnhappy in suspition; these now befall me, yet suspect I not, for apparent truth tells me I am for∣lorne. Once I remember I was to speake to him, and (foole) I tooke the time when she was by, with what scorne did he put me off, and slightnesse heare the businesse, which concernd himselfe, yet cōming from me, was vn∣pleasing: would yet I could be more lucklesse, so it came not from thy worth∣lesnesse, for 'tis that, not my misfortune, tortures me. While yet shee thus continued in her woes, her beauty dying, as her fortune wasted, he carelesse man of any good, or respect, saue of his owne desires, would many times come to her, rather as I coniecture, thinking to betray her, then for any affection hee then bore to her, while she (poore haplesse louer) neuer de∣ny'd what he commanded. Poore soule, how glad would she be to receiue one looke; one word gaue her new life againe, but a smile made her hope, which lasted to make her the stronger, to suffer againe the misery he allotted her. Well, so it continued, and she was vndone, imagine then, braue Queene, in what misery she was, and most, when he that should haue comforted her harme, held still his curst neglect: Till being neere her end, as it was thought, rather (and onely sure for his owne honour) then her safety, hee sent often to her; this made her take ioy, assuring her selfe, he now felt, he was bound to loue her, since thus she was neere death for him; this made her hope, he would be gratefull in affection, though not passionate. Much did he flatter then, and protest respect of her, aboue his life, and that her life and safety were more deare to him, then his owne heart bloud. Expresseles consolati∣on were these vowes, but broken, greatest plagues; what should we trust, when man the excellentest creature, doth thus excell in ill? No sooner was she amended, but he sent againe with all shew of affection, his comming he excused, as out of care to her, lest others would haue visited her too, and so might trouble her in weakenes, & bring danger to her health. These glosses were to her like faith, beleeud, & cheerish'd, til soone was she made to know, mens words are onely breath, their oathes winde, and vowes water, to begin with her ensuing griefe, her new borne hopes soone died, those tyes she had knit vp were broken asunder, in more violence, which death brought heauy

misery vnto the mother of these misaduentures; for soone after fell his di∣rect leauing her, not scanting any contempt or scorne, but turning all shew of fauour to her; after that fell a new change, for then this dainty wo∣man must yeeld her fortunes to a new choyce in him, and to an other, whose beauty wins him from her craftinesse. Then did she likewise fall to new dis∣likes, crying out 'gainst disloyalty, complaind of her misfortune, cursd her credulity, and fond hopes, neuer ceasing complaints, nor reuilings, for her thoughts, chusing the first forsaken louer, to heare her accuse him euen vnto her face, he who had from her chang'd lately to her, and now from her vn∣to an other loue; cruell this needs must bee to see him blamd, and for that fault which she had suffered for, alas then would she say, what hap haue I to accuse my Fate, and still to heare the accusation from an other to the same purpose: Disloyall Lincus, hath thy poore louer Alena deseru'd this hate? canst thou without shame consider my wrongs? thinke on my deserts, I challeng none, but leaue them to thy selfe to iudge. I am your lost for∣saken, I am yet your truest loue, and I am indeed the vnhappiest sufferer of your blame. Pelia complaines of your disloyalty, and to mee, from whom you flew to her, if shee dislike, what shall I doe, who beare the marks of shame, and losse for you? my reputation marr'd, my honour in the dust; are these requitalls to be scornd, despised, and hated at the last? vnkind man, for worse I cannot call you, yet turne backe againe, and look on my desearts, if not on me, and you shal find cleerenes in them, to discerne these other faults by purenes to tel you, none but it self deserues you, griefe to mooue all your compassions to it, lastly, iust claimes to make you gratefull; but you I see despise all vertuous wayes, goe on your course then while I mourne for you, and my extreamest crosse. Thus did she oft com∣plaine, yet neuer shund his sight, least he should thinke his change could al∣ter her•• the more he saw her patience, the more, and insolentlyer did hee presse on it, striuing of purpose to afflict her most, which the sight of his al∣teration needs must bring, when she beheld him kisse his new loues hand, with melting heart, and passionate respect, smile in her eyes, begge for her grace, write to her praise, and expression of his loue; these alas cryd shee were the baites that first betrayed me, thus once he did to me, thus fond was hee of mee, thus careles of all else, but now transformed, as is his truth, and faith. Many perswaded her to keepe away, to scorn as much as he, to hate as much as he; no would she cry, his fault shal neuer make me il, nor wil I chang though he so fickle bee, yet bee assured I loue him not, nor can bee more de∣ceiued by him, or any other, onely thus far the remnant of my loue extends, that I wonll take any course, though painefull, dangerous, and hazard my life, to keepe him from least harme.

Thus did a loiall louer liue, and this is cōmonly the end of loyaltie to men, who neuer knew but the end of their owne wills, which are to delight (only Perissus excepted). And to satisfie you, I haue giuen you this short example of true loue, faigned I confesse the story is, yet such may be, and will bee lo∣uers Fates.

Pamphilia gaue great attention to it, and the more, because her last aduen∣ture, and this discourse did somewhat neere concurre, as ending in misfor∣tune. why (said she to her selfe), should all chuse: these or such like wofull

histories, of purpose to torment me with feare, that I may liue to see like woes? alas, Loue sheild me from such harme; I now behold cleere ioy, so did Siluania, and Alena, and Pelia, yet what conclusion haue they? vtter ruine and distresse for reward. These thoughts so inwardly afflicted her, as she sat still, her colour not changing, nor any motion in her outward part, while the soule onely wrought in her, & yet, not to let the world be ignorant of her o∣peration, sent teares from out her eyes, to witnesse the affliction that she felt; teares which did fall with such louelynes, as louelines did fall and bide with them. So much did Limena loue her, as shee greeu'd for those teares, and with cryes gaue testimony of her sorrow, while she vnstirr'd, still let them slide vpon her softest cheeks, as if she did consent to honour her true teares, with touching that earths-heauenly place; her heart did beate with paine, and I thinke greefe, that her eyes should be more happy in ability to demon∣strate her paine, then that which best knowing her mind could attaine vnto; I feele said it the torment, they shew it, like players of an others part, and so did it swell, as Limena was forced to helpe, and with comfort and perswasi∣ons appease the rage.

Thus they continued till Nanio the dwarfe came to them, telling his La∣dy the happy tydings of Rosindy's arriuall, with Selarinus, this awaked her, and made her melancholy companion, yeeld to her better friend, ioy; back they went together, and with much content met the King Rosindy and his companion in the Hall, where the King and all the Court were assembled, ioy plentifully disposing it selfe to euery one. Amphilanthus holding his course towards St. Maura was thither brought safely, and speedily, then going to the Rocke, he tooke Vrania in his armes vsing these wordes.

My dearest Sister, and the one halfe of my life, Fortune (neuer fa∣uourable to vs) hath ordain'd, a strange aduenture for vs, and the more cruell is it, since not to be auoyded, nor to be executed but by my hands, who best loue you; yet blame me not, since I haue assured hope of good successe, yet apparent death in the action, I must (not to prolong time, or amaze you with discourse, alas that I must say these words) deerest Vrania, I must throw thee into the Sea; pardon me, Heauen appoints it so. My deerest brother sayd she, what neede you make this scruple? You wrong me much to thinke that I feare death, being your sister, or cheerish life, if not to ioy my parents; fulfill your command, and be assured it is doubly welcome, comming to free me from much sorrow, and more, since giuen mee by your hands: those hands that best I loue, and you to giue it me, for whose deare sake, I onely lou'd to liue, and now as much delight and wish to die. Kinde teares proceeded from them both, and mournfull silence did possesse their tongus, till she againe besought, and hee refused; but yet at last resoluing, if she pe∣rish'd to ende with her: he tooke her in his armes, and gently let her slide, shewing it rather to be her slipping from him, then his letting her fall, and as shee fell, so fell his heart in woe, drownd in as deepe an Ocean of des∣paire; but soone was he call'd to wonder, and all ioy; for no sooner had she suncke into the water, but the waues did beare her vp againe, to shewe the glory they had in bearing such perfections; but then the Deepes, am∣bitious of such a prize, sought to obtaine her, opening their hearts to let her sincke into them, when two men in a boate came rowing towards her,

and one who lay in a craggy part of the Rocke, furiously threw himselfe vn∣to her, she only saying, Liue happy Amphilanthus, and my onely deare Parse∣lius, farewell: that calld him, who leaping in, cry'd; Parselius will neuer out∣liue Vrania; and sunke straight with her, then were both pulled vp, and safely brought to land, by the help of the other two, who leaping out of their boat into the sea, spared not danger, or life it selfe; all foure then soundly washed, came a shoare, where Amphilanthus embraced them, and with tea••es of ioy welcom'd his sister, and his friends, who now well vnderstood the operation of that water; for Parselius knew nothing of his former loue to her, onely the face of Vrania, and being assured of her neerenesse to him in bloud, reioyced with them, the others did the like. Now was Steriamus released of his vn∣fortunate loue, esteeming Pamphilia wholly for her worth, not with passion thinking of her. Vrania's desires were no other, then to goe into Italy to see her father: and Dolorindus to accompany his friends whither they would goe. Thus happily were all deliuered of the most burdenous tormenting af∣fliction that soules can know, Loue, and Loue was pleased, because now he might haue new worke in new kinds. Parselius longs to see his Dalinea: Vra∣nia wisheth it also without iealousie, or anger, but loues her heartily for her Cosins sake: most happy Princesse to be deliuerd from such a hell, as louing him, who had (although so neere to her) been so farre from truth to her. Amphilanthus was so ouercome with comfort and ioy, discerning this fortu∣nate and blessed issue of the aduentures, as kindnesse now wrought like sor∣row: then embracing all, they tooke to the boats, the Hermit going with them to the Iland, where with kind louing perswasions, they inuited him to leaue that place, and to accompany them thence: but hee excused himselfe, promising to be ready at any time to doe them seruice, but his vow he could not breake: then he intreated them, that if by chance in their trauels they happened into Dalmatia, they would enquire for his vnfortunate daughter Bellemira, and by some meanes to let him vnderstand of her. They promised this: so with more kind farewels, they parted from the Hermit, and at Amphi∣lanthus ea••nest intreaty went together for Italy, where they arriued, and so past vnto the Court. But what ioy? what content did all hearts feele, in see∣ing the Princesse of true worth and admiration returnd? Then did the old king, whose haire and beard like snow make a true resemblance of it, ioy (like the Sun) heating and melting; so did ioy melt his hart into teares, & they like a thaw, dropping on the lower snow, he held them in his armes; they kneeld, he kist them, but could not speake, so was he wrapped and ouerwhelmd with ioy. At last Amphilanthus spake, beseeching him to salute the other Princes, which he did, and then turnd to them, and againe kissed, and embraced them. This being past, they were conducted to their lodgings: Vrania hauing rich robes fit for her birth brought vnto her, till then hauing worne her Shepher∣desse attire, which she resolu'd to doe, as long as she liu'd vnseene of her fa∣ther, & only to receiue them from his hands. Now was Italy fild with delight, being the pleasing'st and delightful'st of any; sports are new in••••nted to giue welcome, and Iusts proclaimed, wherein these Knights must also shew their skil, the Ladies came from al parts to see Vrania, the Knights to honor Amphi∣lanthus: the first day of the Iusts, the King being ready to go forth of the Hall to the lists, there entred an old man, in habit like a Pilgrim, with a staffe of that

fashion in his hands, bare-footed, and with all demonstration of that life, he spake lowd, and besought the King to stay till he had deliuerd some things fit for his knowledge, then all placing themselues, he began thus.

Most happy King, receiue these speeches from me (a miserable man, if you pitie not), a Prince I am by birth, but a Villaine by nature; Prince I was of Istria, and brother to the King of Dalmatia, proud I was, and accompanying that vice, I had malice, and all ill abiding in mee, which causd a detestable treason in me, for hearing many prophesies, & likelihoods of the greatnes, & worth of Amphilanthus, I studied how I might any way crosse the successe, he then being but of tender yeares, scarce hauing attained to seuen yeares of age; but that which most moou'd me, was, that a learned man said, he should rule ouer the greatest part of the world, and liue to be Lord of my Country also•• to auoid this, I vowed to loose no meanes or opportunitie; wherefore I went to the Court of my brother, where there then liu'd a great, and a wise man; this man confirm'd, what before I had heard, adding more vnto it for his in∣crease of honour, for he had cast his natiuitie, hauing gaind it from one, who was at the birth of the worlds wonder, your sonne.

Vpon this I disguised my selfe, and hither I came into your Country and Court, where I found the Queene newly brought to bed of a daughter; this I thought might be a meanes for my safety, for no magicke could withstand the happy fortune of Amphilanthus (though a danger he should fall into vn∣certaine to recouer it, and by a woman). So determining to haue my ends some way, hauing some skill in Magicke, I cast a sleepe vpon all the atten∣dants where the babe lay, and being in an euening, tooke the child, and con∣ueyed it away with me, purposing to keepe her to protect me from danger, while I would practise the ruine of the Prince by any deuili••h plot, and to be the cause of as much hurt as might be to his worthinesse: but otherwise, and better for the good of all these parts it happened, I being in all my charmes and spells, preuented by a greater power, yet was I glad I had the child, with whom I tooke my way to the sea, where fitting downe, and looking on the sweetenesse and delicacie of the babe, vnawares by Robbers I was set vpon, no helpe being left me by learning, or art, to relieue me in that aduenture, death being onely expected by me, they prooued more mercifull, sauing my life, but took what I had from me, and the child, which most of al I esteemd; then wofully did I returne to mine owne Country, there I fell to my books, and called others of that art vnto my aide: but doe what I, or they could, we were barrd from knowledge or guesse, what was become of the child, or what course it should run, heauenly powers hiding it from mee, to keepe her safety neerer to her, till this yeare it was discouered to mee, that shee was safe in the conduct of a great Prince, her estate vnknowne to her selfe, and him, nor was her inprisonment hid from me, though the place and manner was; her dis∣guise was shewed mee, being Shepherdesses attire, since which time I haue bestowed my time and labour in seeking her, and now Sir, where I stole her; here I find he••, this being your daughter, and I, (Sir,) the Traytor.

This then being done, they all againe embraced her, but Vrania desired to know one thing more, which was how the Mantell, and Purse was left vnto her. That (said the old man) was done by him or her I know not which, that protected you, nor can you know that, till you finish an

aduenture, which is onely left for you to end. Then did euery one adiudge the old Prince to no lesse then death; but the King nor Amphilanthus would consent to it, saying, Their ioyes and welcomes should no•• bee mixed with bloud: then did he professe repentance, and for that, and their great mercies, he receiued pardon, and so returned towards his country, halfe way in his ••ourney he died: thus the aduenture concluded, they went forth to the Iusts which were ready to begin with their presence. The first day was conclu∣ded by a match made of twelue to twelue, with sword & speare, which were to their renownes performed: then the P••inces determined to manifest their valours, yet euery one priuately taking this resolution, made a shrewd mistaking among them: for the King and Queene being placed, there entred a Knight in black armour, his deuise, the Wo••ld burning, and Cupid houe∣ring in the flame; this Knight was straight encountred by a Prince of Apu∣lia, a braue and valiant Gentleman, but too weake for him•• then the Princes of Vihin, of Milan, Sauoy, Florence, Mantua, Modina, and many others met him, and so the earth, as his Liuery. Amphilanthus seeing this, stole away, hoping to reuenge his Country men against this stranger; so taking a white armour, like a young Knight came in, and fitly; for then did the black knight want worke: but long he did not complaine of that, for this encounter was strong and furious, the black Knight taking him for some such an one, as the other kind-hearted Princes were, which made him ••it the more carelesly, and so gaue the Prince the aduantage to shake him shrewdly; which he meaning to mend the next time, with great rage met him, who neuer yet was ouer∣throwne, or neere the hazard of it: but so terrible was the meeting, as both their horses were strooke vpon their buttocks, yet againe recouerd; three courses they ran thus without aduantage, wherefore by the lawes of those Iusts, they were to end it with the sword, which they did, fighting without mercy or feare, the white armour of Amphilanthus looking pale with rage to see his bloud, while the other mourned for his masters hurts, which were many. Long they fought on horseback, thē both agreeing (their horses being faint) they lighted, and so continued the fight, till the King sent downe Vrania to intreate them, that they would giue ouer, since they hoped the quarrell was not deadly, besides the greatest pitie such Knights should bee lost at the time, when pleasure, not warre, should be exercised. They at her desire yeel∣ded, while all iudgements gaue them the honour, of the most worthy to be admired Combatants, Italy had euer knowne. Faint they were, and so sat downe, taking one another by the hand, as witnesse their malice was ended, and so might euery one truly belieue, when they beheld their faces, for the black Knight was Parselius, who faigned himselfe not well, of purpose to bee the abler to combat all commers. The two friends did then condemne each one himselfe for hurting the other (but these chances often happen among Knights): so they went to the King, whose grief was great to see their hurts; but knowing by his Chirurgions none of them were dangerous, though pain∣full, his content was infinite to see their valors. Vrania was sorry for Parselius, but tended Amphilanthus wholly, till he came abroad, which was some two daies after; strange happines wrought by diuine power to work such change, who once would haue left all friends for Parselius. During which time, the sport ceased, and began again with his presence: the other Princes euery one

had their trials in full manner, and Steriamus for his honour had this aduen∣ture befall him. The fame of this meeting, and the Iusts being noised ouer all those parts, there came most Knights and Princes, to whose eares the tidings came, among which was the Prince of Piemont, as proud and insolent, as those vices could corrupt man withall: this man pufft vp with ambition in the worst kind, aspired to loue Vrania, and therefore put himselfe to the bold discouering of it, and not content with that, demanded a fauour of her to weare, which she refusd, hating vice so much, as for that, shee abhorred him. He scorning to be denied, when hee should haue hated himselfe for such an attempt, gaue some speeches not befitting her to take, and withall snatched a gloue from her, which hee sware to weare; yet mildly she tooke small no∣tice of either of them, but her spirit made her colour shew, she was offended; this was in the chamber of Amphilanthus in the window. Steriamus stan∣ding by, and seeing it grew offended, and so much, as it making his ••i••s giue testimony of the furie he had boyling within him, he spake these words; Pre∣sumption hath causd in you this vnmannerlinesse, but truth in mee prouokes these words; lay downe the gloue againe, and your selfe at her feete, humbly submit and yeeld your life to her disposing, for hauing done so vnpardonable an act, and leaue your hopes to her mercy, or here receiue this from me, that you shall haue my heart, or I yours to satisfie her right. He laughed, and said, the gloue did well become his hatt (hauing put it into it in that time), and that there he would weare it in despite of him, or the best Knight. Steriamus strake his hat off, with all giuing him such a blow in the face, as he made him stagger; then took out the gloue, and kissing it, told Vrania, that thereby hee had the happines to begin his seruice to her, being long before ingaged vnto it: if she would take it from him, she had the power to doe that, and what else she pleasd, since he desired to be but accounted her humblest seruant; yet his desire was so much to be honourd, as to bee permitted to weare it as her fa∣uour, till he brought him humbly to submit for so great a presumption. She who had euer loued Steriamus from his youth, and by this was ingaged, be∣sides his aduenturing to saue her in the sea, to gratifie him, yet tender of be∣ing cause of harme to him, she only spake thus: My Lord (said she) your me∣rits so farre beyond my deserts, make me amazed, in what manner to carry my selfe, I am doubtfull; yet I will rather offend in the good, then ill; weare not this I beseech you, too meane for you, since taken from so ill a place, but let me haue it, and accept from me a more worthy, and a fitter fauour, and one vntoucht by any hands, but those that present it with all true respect vnto you, He gaue her the gloue, and tooke from her a scarfe, which with in∣finite content, he tyed (assisted by her also) about his arme; then went she to the fire, into which she threw the gloue, wishing that there the danger of Steriamus might end, with the consumption of that leather. Then did the disgraced Prince goe out, and instantly send to Steriamus t, o giue him satis∣faction, which he presently did yeeld vnto, and kissing Vrania's hand, went downe to arme himselfe in a priuate place, and in an armour not known, be∣ing ru••set, and as plaine an one as could be, his riches consisting in his worth, and his Mistrisses fauour. Straight was the Court fild with the newes, that two braue combatants were entring the Lists; the King, Amphilanth••s, (though weake) and all the Court came, except Parselius, who could not so

well stirre abroad as Amphilanthus, by reason he had lost much more bloud; his staying within, made Steriamus not missed; so all assembled, the proud Prince comes in, suted to his humour, his attendants many, and shewed they had receiued their education from him; the other had none with him, but carried his speare himselfe; the Iudges were made, the Prince of Sauoy his Cosin-german, chosen by him; and Amphilanthus, desired by the other; the Trumpets sounded, and they encountred; Steriamus was struck backe on his horse, and the other his horse fell with him, so they fought on foote; fierce and cruel was the fight, lamentable was the sight of it, for except those choice Princes, none could equall this Piemountois, and that he knew, which did incourage, or made him more prize his power then his worth, as one might say, a Horse were a brauer Creature then a man, because he draweth, or beareth more. Steriamus fought for honor, and that to be receiued from Vrania, the other, to repaire his honour, touch'd for Vrania: thus they past no fury, no strength, no harme shun'd, or spar'd which was not calld to the highest accompt, nor any skill wanting, which was not, (if a little stirr'd) re∣newed, and payed with iudgement, and discretion.

Most sayd, no combate, (except the last) could compare with this, yet in some sort did this exceed, as being one more bloudy, ground hate, and all curst additions being ioynd together in them, to be at heigth and gouerne, nay, spend themselues in the furious, and deadly conclusion. At last, much care was had to saue them, when euen their eyes dasled, and their legges grew false to their bodies, no longer willing to support them. Then fell the Piemount Prince, and Steriamus vpon him, not of purpose, but by weakenesse; his helme he puld off, and would haue killed him, but his spirit ended (in shew) with his fury, for then he fell off from him in a swound, appearing as dead as he. The Iudges came in, and finding it was the braue Prince, Am∣philanthus fell downe by him, the King came from the window, Vrania ran to him, and wiping his face, rubbed his temples with her hand, when life againe possest him, and how could it be otherwise, being in her armes, where life of loue did dwell? When he beheld where he was, and remembring what hee had began for her, fearing he had lost his honour by the others victory, he of∣ferd to get vp, and being on his knees, scarce able to rise higher, crying out, Miserable Steriamus to liue to see thy shame, and before her, where honour striues to be, and from whom all my honor must proceed; he cast his eies, and saw where the other lay dead, then was he satisfied, and well might he bee so, since this was none of his smallest, but one of his chiefest victories, the strength, valour and skill of the other being so well knowne, as none could yeeld him conquered, but by an vnconquerable spirit.

Steriamus gaind the victory, and so, as great honor as could be giuen to a∣ny in a single fight; he was not the strong••st, but as valiant as any, and (except the cosin and brothers) equall with any. This past, they were taken vp, in the raising them, the Prince breathed, and looked vp, wherupon Steriamus would stay, and heare him speake; he vnwilling, yet by him before he would be drest, was forst to confesse his folly, and in as humble maner as he demanded, asked pardon for presumption to Vrania; then he for gaue him, and kindly recon∣ciled themselues, so embracing the proud Prince, departed, proud now that he had liued to goodnesse, shaking off the other pride with his life. Steriamus

was conducted to his lodging, where Vrania visited him often: the body of the other to a place appointed, till his buriall; the Prince of Sauoy taking order for him, not with excessiue sorrow for his death, who in his life time neuer cared for him, nor any that had so much vertue; for this was a fine young Gentleman, vertuous, and valiant, and now by his cousins death, Prince likewise of Piemount. Euery day were new showes, and tri∣umphes, and by reason these braue Princes could not be any of the number, martiall exercises were for a while layd aside, and Court sports gain'd the place; Amphilanthus, Parselius, and (within few dayes) Steriamus beeing spectators: but one afternoone, with sound of Trumpets, there entered in∣to the hall a braue Knight, and with brauery vnusuall, hee was attended with many seruants, all in one colour liuery, which was Sea greene and crimson, as coats of seagreene veluet, embroderd with crimson silke, in the fashion of hearts, stroke through with darts; twenty of these he had, euery one of them carrying a picture, then came two richer then the former, holding one fay∣rer then the rest (or he was deceiu'd) for this was the picture of his mistris, the Knight then commanded them to set them downe, which they did on both sides of the chamber, the faces to the States, he standing in the middle with his mistrisses thus speaking. Famous King of Naples, and no more fa∣mous, then truely meriting that fame; I am hither come vpon command, sent by a power that onely hath soueraignty ouer me, else free, my name is Polarchos, sonne to the King of Ciprus, but subiect by loue to the Lady of Rhodes; I went to the Court of her Father, desirous to see all places, there did loue surprize mee, and I sacrifice my liberty on the altar of her com∣mands; Oft times I went afterwards to see her, and was (like the fulfilling of wishes) welcome to her, though not to her father, after hee discouerd our loues, which though his dislike could not alter our affections, being strong, and young, yet it opposed our oft delightfull meetings, subtilty was then to come into freedom's place, and danger, where safety was wont to dwell, we only secure in our loues tryals, I had many put vpon me, but I passd them all, the more to increase her liking, and her fathers hate to mee. Then was there an inchantment, wherein faith in loue, and valour was to be shewed, and approued; but since the rarest liuing Prince, your most excellent son, had the power, as iustly deseruing it, to conclude those charms; I will let the des∣cription of that passe, since how impossible is it, but that you haue heard the whole relation of it by him.

Then to proceed, I was so much honord, as to be carryed to Rhodes, and peace made with her father, and his consent gaind for our marriage: then departed he with his royall company, leauing me assured, and so certaine of all content, as then I imagined; but after there departure, some two dayes before the solēnizing of the marriage, we were discoursing of many things, among the rest, of the aduentures at Ciprus, which brought on the pleasant Iust we had there: begun by matchlesse Amphilanthus, and his worthy companion Ollorandus, with whom I did well enough, but was by your Son layd on the ground; this I tooke for no disgrace, but as a due, when I pre∣sumed to meete him, who was to be yeelded to by all: but though I thought this no dishonor, the hearing it bred disdaine in my mistris, wherefore she told me, that vnles I would wipe away this staine, she would neuer look vp∣on

me, and though she could marry no other, yet she would not performe it with me, this greeued me, and so much was I vexed with the teller of this to her, as to begin, I could haue found in my heart to kill him; but what would that auaile? She was angry, and wilfull in her resolution, and being Princesse of that Iland, I had but a small party there, to force her to per∣forme her word, and faith ingaged; yet thus farre I brought it, I vnder∣tooke to carry her picture through all Greece, and Italy, and Iust with all, that would venture their Mistresses Pictures against mine, if I ouercame, I was to haue her instantly vpon my returne, and all their Pictures, as my gaine to present her withall, only I excepted, Amphilanthus and Ollorandus whom I had before beene so much ingaged to. Shee was contented with this, and so I tooke my way; Most of Greece I haue passed, and all good fortune hath yet attended me, neuer receiuing the worst of any, but I must confesse, my Destiny hath yet held mee, from meeting the renowne of Knighthood, the three Brothers, and their Companions; the last I mett withall, was a Romanian Knight, and he brought, as assured gaine, this La∣dies, the Princesse Antissia, but hath courteously left her to grace the other Ladies; Now Sir, my humble request to your Maiestie is, that I may haue permission to try my fortune here.

The King rose vp, and embraced him, giuing him welcome, and liberty; so did Amphilanthus, Parselius, Steriamus, Ollorandus, and lastly, Dolorindus came vnto him, but not with so louing a countenance, for he was resolued to encouter him, so much had the resemblance of Antissia wrought on his minde; then the King desired to haue the orders of the Iusts proclaimed, which were, That no man must come into the Field to Iust, without his La∣dies Portraiture. That if he were ouercome, hee must leaue it behinde him, as his signe of losse. That he must not offer to defend that with the Sword, which he lost with the Launce. That they were to runne six cour∣ses, if done equally, to continue till the Iudges decided it. And lastly, if the Challenger were ouercome, the Defendant had free liberty to dispose of all the Pictures before conquerd; this being don••, for that night they par∣ted, Polarchos to his Tents, which were set vp at the end of the Lists, being in∣finit rich, and beautifull. The princes brought him thither, though faine they would haue had his company in the Court, but that was contrary to her command, who he must wholly obey.

The morning come, there assembled all the Court, the Iudges were the foure first named Princes, then came in the Prince of Milan, atten∣ded on, like himselfe, two Knights of Milan carrying his Ladies Picture, which was, indeede, as louely as any could be, but browne of complexi∣on, Daughter shee was to the Duke of Florence, and who at that time he was extreamely passionate, of being to be his wife, within fewe weekes after; this Prince ranne finely with an excellent grace, and delicate Horse∣manship; but Polarchos had runne with Amphilanthus, with equall strength, for some courses, wherefore this young Prince must be contented to leaue his picture behinde him, which he did at the fourth course, and thus did his misfortune bring in many, for that day he gain'd seuen to the number of his Victories, & the second day, almost as many. Now was he to stay but sixe daies in euery Kings Court, not as long as he found Knights to Iust with, but

those that would, must within that time doe it, or not else. The third day he had but few, by reason the Knights were vnprouided, but the fourth and fift, he had enough to doe, to conquer so many as came. The sixt day, there en∣tred a Knight in gold armour, his plumes, furniture to his horse, liueries all yellow and gold, so as he was called the iealous Knight; before him was carryed the picture of Antissia, so he came to the Iudges as the custome was, but they refus'd him liberty, saying, that since that Princesse had beene once before brought in, it was not lawfull to bring her againe, since so it runne to infinitnesse; yet he much vrging, and the challenger beeing as curteous, as valerous, consented on this condition, that this should be the last example, so they parted, and encountred with great force, and finenesse, the yellow Knight had a while the worse, but hee recouerd himselfe prettily wel again, and brought it to that passe, that in fiue courses, there was little aduantage; but then Polarchos knowing his conclusion was neere an end, like a man that in earnest, desird to win his Ladyes loue, encounterd him, and stroke him flat on his backe, passing only with the losse of his stirrops, so the honour was giuen him, and the other vnknowne, got away as hee came, but with somewhat lesse reputation, yet no shame; since hee did best of forty that Iusted of that Court.

Thus the Iusts had end, and Polarchos with much honor, was brought into the Court, wher he continued some daies, & hauing now finished his charge departed for Rhodes, with all louely triumphant trophies. At Rhodes he was receiued kindly of all, except his mistris, who examining al that he had done, and finding none of the famous women among them, told him that those were nothing to her, vnlesse he had brought Pamphilias, Vranias, Selarinas, and Limenas pictures, or that he had ouerthrowne, Parselius, Rosindy, Steri∣amus, Selarinus, Perissus, Leandrus, or such Knights, looking with so despight∣full a contempt on him, as it a new moued his passions, into a still continu∣ing hate, for he seeing this, and all his labour no more esteemd, grew to ab∣horring that, which before he sought, and scorne, what he ador'd. Is all my labour (said he) requited thus? the trauells, the hazards I haue runne into, rewarded with this slightnesse? Farewell, fond vnworthy woman, and when Polarchos next seekes thee, vse him thus; now I hate thee, and will no more euer see thee, or thinke of thee, if not with scorne. With that hee flung out of her presence, and straight went to his lodging, where he meant to stay that night onely, and the next day take his iourney homeward, but he was thus preuented; for she seeing his minde alter'd, and how like she was to fall into this losse, she call'd her trustiest seruants to her, and gaue them charge how to fulfill her commands, which they accomplish'd; for in the dead time of the night, when hee slept secure from Loue passions, which were wont to hold his eyes open, and busie his soule, hee now freed from them, enioyed quiet rest, till he was disturb'd by the rude rushing in of cer∣taine men into his Chamber, who taking him vnprouided, layd hold of him, and binding him with cords, and yron chaines, carried him into a strong towre, which was on the topp of the Castle, the windowes bard thicke with yron, nothing else to keepe Sunne or cold from him, no bed but the hard floore, nor meate, but bread and water.

Thus he liu'd a while, true spectacle of misfortune, in vnfortunate loue,

those hands that lately defended her beauty, now bound for maintaining so false a shadow, and all the honour he gaind for her, turnd to disdained hate, surely a iust punishment, when worth carries a sword against worth to de∣fend the opposite, Poore Polarchos, into what affliction art thou brought•• how will thy friends lament thy misfortune, and redresse thy wrongs, if they may attaine but the knowledge of it? but thus thou must yet continue tor∣tured for thy too great goodnesse.

Amphilanthus hauing now recouerd his strength pretily well, came vnto his father one day, telling him what promise he had made vnto his cosin, the Queene of Pamphilia, to conduct her home, and therfore besought his leaue to depart, and also permission for Vrania's going; besides, Steriamus was now to proceed in his businesse concerning the recouery of his kingdome; these he said, and no other should haue carried him from his presence. This indeed was true, and so gaind he the libertie he demanded, though with hearty grief to part with them: the Queene was also sorry, for he was their dearest child; yet his honour was more deare to them. Then tooke he leaue of all the court, and, and with his braue companions, and sweet Vrania, tooke shipping for Morea. Perissus hauing all this while continued in Arcadia with the King, faine would take leaue of them, but the happy newes of their arriuall did stay him. If the Morean King were vpon this, euen rauished with ioy, none can blame him, since he ••ad at that time the whole worth of the world in his presence. Pamphilia neuer more contented, hauing her two dearest brothers with her, whither also soone came Philarchos to fill vp their ioyes, bringing with him his beautifull, and chastly louing Orilena; all were full of comfort, all com∣forted with this happinesse: brauery of Knighthood shin'd there, the onely beauty of vertue, and vertuous beautie was there assembled. As thus the Court was florishing in glory, despising any sorrow, a sad spectacle cald them one morning a little to compassion, a Lady in mourning attire, attended on with numbers of Knights and Ladies likewise in that habit, came into the Hall, the Ladies face couered with a blacke Vaile; next to her followed an other Lady, carrying a most sweete and dainty child in her armes, shee com∣ming to the State, did not kneele downe, but threw her selfe at the Kings ••eete, crying out with such pitifull moane, as all hearts did ioyne as in loue to condole with her.

Long it was before shee could bring forth any thing; at last, O my Lord (said she), as euer you had compassion of an afflicted creature, verifie it in fauour shewed to mee. I am a Lady, and a miserable soule, forlorne by for∣tune, and my loue: I was resolute, but alas, what woman can see my yeeres, and still continue so? I was deceiued, and am, and this now grieueth me. As∣sist me gratious Prince, it is alone in you to redresse my harme: then doe it, and doe it to her, who suffers by your bloud.

The King was amazed, not beeing able to guesse at the businesse; yet taking her vp, desired to know more of it, promising his best power and aide in it. The businesse then my Lord (said shee) is this: I am dishonoured if you helpe not; one of your Knights trauelling in search of a friend of his, vnfortunately (for mee) lighted on my house, where I with ciuility, and courteous manner intertaind him: so well hee liked the place (and then my selfe) as hee neuer ceased continuall importunity,

woing, and sparing no meanes to win his end, till hee procured this end for me: yet being chastly bred, and honouring vertue aboue all respects, or pas∣sions, I would not consent till he married me: then wee kept together some times, he leauing all other courses, contented to obscure himselfe, his name and estate, to be in my armes; happinesse to me like assurance of heauen, for as heauen I lou'd him, and would not refuse any danger, his loue might ex∣pose me vnto. But he hauing enioyd his desires, and seeing I had no hidden beautie more for varietie to delight him with all, hee left mee with a faigned excuse, neuer since hauing so much as looked after me, or let me know hee liu'd. What torment this was to me (Great King) confider? but most, fin∣ding my selfe with child; then came the hazard of my honour in mind, the danger of my disgrace, the staine I might bring to my house: for few will be∣lieue vs, poore women, in such extremity, but rather will increase our infamy. What paine euer was sufferd by woman, I indur'd in soule and body, till the time of my deliuery came, when God sent me this babe: hauing gaind some little strength, I left my Country, and hither am I come vnknowne to any, humbly to craue your fauour; one of your Knights hath done me this abuse, and therefore from your hands I implore right.

Sweete Lady (said the King), I pitie much your fortune: but tell mee who this Knight is, and I vow he shall not stay in my Court, or fauour, if hee doe not before me satisfie you, so as this can be verified against him.

Sir (said she) if one of these words I haue spoken bee false, let shame, and perpetuall losse requite me: no Sir, I haue spoken onely truth, and desire but to be iustified; yet wi••h I not so great an ill to befall him, for God knowes my soule is purely his, louing him as it selfe, and but for him, would haue so much tried the sincerenesse of it. Then call (I beseech you) your Knights together, and of them demaund, what they will alot me; I will be disposd of by your selfe and them, for iustly may I put my selfe to you, since he is no o∣ther that hath abused me, but your owne sonne, the winning and forsaking Parselius.

The King at this grew infinitely troubled, not knowing what to say, or doe in it; at last he cald his sonne, who all this while was talking with Leandrus a∣bout Pamphilia: he comming to him, the king demanded of him, if he would vpon his Honour, resolue him directly of one thing he would demand; nay more, he charged him on his blessing, not to conceale that from him which he was to aske. He vow'd, nothing should make him answere false. Then tell me (said hee), haue you a child, or are you married to any without my knowledge? He fell straight on his knees; If euer (cry'd he) I gaue my word to marry any, or had a child by any, let Heauen (blesse you, said the Lady, stay∣ing him from further proceeding). Vow not (said she); for neuer knew I man b••t you, and you are husband to me, and father to this babe. Her voyce he th••n began to know, yet being impossible (as hee thought) for Dalinea to 〈…〉〈…〉 her, he desired to see her face. Nay (said she), first promise to bee iust before your father, and this royall presence, confirme what priuately be∣fore on•••• ••••ee you vow'd in sacred marriage. What I did vow (said he) I ne∣uer will deny•• then royall Father (said hee) heare mee with patience and fauour; and yet before I speake, call Leandrus hither: so he was cald, when Parselius with eyes fild with teares thus began. Wretch that I was,

wandring in search of my friend Amphilanthus (as I pretended, but indeede that onely was not my voyage), I fell into the confines of Achaya, where I met Berlandis, who came to seeke me from his Lord, and to intreat my com∣pany in finishing the warre for Antissius; I consented: but passing through that Country, I chanced to come to the Castle of Dalinea, your faire and ver∣tuous Sister; her I fell in loue withall, forgot all former vowes, and truths in loue; her I sought, flatter'd, wept to, protested what loues art could instruct me in: but all in vaine, vertue in her was a strong rocke against my vehement suite, till at the last pitie procured reward; to me shee granted, on the making her my wife: I did that willingly, and as my only happinesse. But long I had not thus enioyed her, but one sad night I dream'd of my first Loue, who furi∣ously reuild me for my change, then sent reuenge in scorne, and worst con∣tempt. I waked distracted; shee, deare shee, my wife was grieued with my paine, asked the true cause, complaind with me, grieu'd with mee, wept with me, who wept to cousen her; yet I was forc'd to it. At last I made a faignd ex∣cuse, and by that meanes liberty to goe. From thence I parted, after lost my Page, flying from all but sadnesse, which did liue, fed by my sorrow, pressed with the heauiest weight of soule-felt-mourning, I got vnto the sea, and so shipt and saild to St. Maura, where with an Hermit graue, and poore, I wasted out some time, till sweet diuine Vrania was by her deare brother throwne into the sea. I saw her fall, and heard her cry, farewell; I leapt vnto her, and so came a shore by helpe of Steriamus, and his friend, good Dolorindus. Straight I found the good, for then all fortunes pass'd in my cross'd loue; I quite forgot, nay, that I had e're lou'd, so farre was passion from me; yet the loue, chaste loue of Dalinea as my wife, I yet retaine, and onely she doe I af∣fect and loue. This Sir is true, and humbly I aske pardon for my fault, which I had meant more priuately to haue confess'd; and you Leandrus pray now pardon me, your Sister hath lost nothing by this match, nor shall haue reason to complaine of me, if true affection, and a loyall loue, can merit loues requi∣tall from her breast. I know she lou'd me, and I loue but her. For you sad Lady, if you be not she, you wrong your selfe extreamely; and I vow, that (but her selfe) I neuer yet did touch, nor euer will; then seeke another hus∣band, and a father for your child.

I'le seeke no other (answered shee), then take your loyall Dalinea to your selfe: and this was Dalinea, whose firme loue, but violent, had brought her to that place, despairing of Parselius and his loue. Parselius tooke her in his armes, and scarce could satisfie himselfe with ioy, to see his dearest Dalinea. The King forgaue them, and with fatherly affection wept, and kiss'd her, and the babe: then did Leandrus embrace them both, shee asking pardon, and Parselius too he did forgiue, and so all were content. Vrania as vntouch'd with loue or anger likewise welcomd her, so did all else; the mourning was cast off, and all the ioy express'd, that clothes or Triumphs could produce: but Pamphilia admiringly beheld Vrania and her Brother, at last, O loue (said ••h••e), what strange varieties are here? assuredly none but thy seruants can let such wauerings possesse them; protect mee yet from such distresse, and let me be ordaind, or licensed to be the true patterne of true constancy, and let my loue be loyall to me.

These passions oft did vexe her, and perplexe her soule, one day especially

when all alone in the Woods ••hee thus did complaine. Neuer at quiet tor∣menting passion, what more canst thou desire? What, couet that thou hast not gaind? in absence thou dost molest me with those cruell paines, in pre∣sence thou torturest me with feare and despaire, then dost burne with desire to obtaine, yet sealest vp my lipps from discouering it; leaue these contrarie∣ties, and make me liue peaceably, and so happily: scorch'd I am with heate of doubt, my hopes are burnd to ashes, and onely the smoake of suspition fu∣ming of my whole selfe, now consumed by this fire. Could I belieue those sighes were for me? Could I hope his sadnesse proceeded from this ground? Could I thinke his lookes on me were loue? Could I imagine, when hee prouokes me to discourse of such like passions, it were to find my affections seate? I might then be so fortunate as to discouer that, which hidden, ruines me: but passion, thy ends are onely to afflict, neuer to helpe; thou do'st still worke against thy selfe, as if thine owne mortall enemy. What ill spirit but thy selfe, would find causes to hurt? what nurse would no•• feede her babe rather with milke, then weane it, to starue it, if not able else to sustaine it? but you a cruell nurse denie me foode, and famish mee with despaire, a leane li∣uing, and a miserable fate; vnnaturall this is to murder, what your selfe did breed; you bred me to this woe, will you forsake me now in necessitie? you haue giuen me education, brought vp in the learning of loue; was it to be af∣ter condemned, for being so ill a scholler? or haue I learnd now enough, and so must make vse of it? Teach me a little more, and onely to know this, the Pelican lets out her bloud to saue her young ones: but passion, you let mee with all your childrens affections pine and starue; one drop of life-bloud, hope would cherish me, but hope abandons mee, and I remaine an vnfortu∣nate witnesse of your tyrannies. Welcome my teares (cry'd shee) you are more tender and more kind, striuing to ease mee by your carefull meanes; then wept she, sigh'd, sobd, and groand in her anguish; but when the spring had run it selfe euen dry, she rose from off the grasse, which a while had been her bed, when these extreamest weights of heauinesse oppressed her: and to make her the trulier deliuerd of her sorrow, Amphilanthus came vnto her, and straight followed Vrania and Limena. This braue Prince discernd her eyes some-what sweld, whereat his heart did melt with pitie, and kindly askt the cause: she that now might haue had her wish, yet refusd that happy proffer for her deliuery; modesty and greatnesse of spirit ouer-ruling her, so as shee made a slight excuse; and yet that enough to make him know, she desired not to reueale her secret thoughts. This taught him ciuilitie not to vrge, that gaue her time to know she did amisse in being so secret, as lockt vp her losse, in stead of opening her blessing. Then sat they all downe together, Am∣philanthus laying his head on Pamphilias Gowne, which she permitted him to do, being more then euer before she would grant to any: then fel they in∣to discourse of many things, and as all must come to conclusion, so they con∣cluded with loue, as the end of al sweet pleasure. Then variety of loue came a∣mong thē, I meane the discourses in that kind, euery one relating a story, Vra∣nia was the last, and hers was this. In Italy as once I went abroad into some Woods, where a dainty riuer want only passed, it was my chance, walking vp and downe, to call to mind the sweete Iland wherein I was bred, and all those pleasant passages therein, so farre those thoughts possest me, as they mooued

sadnesse in me, and that, passion, and passion, attendance on that power; so as I threw my self vpon the ground, there a while remaining as in a trance, lull•• into it by those charmes. Awak'd I was out of this sweete sleepe by a voyce, which I heard most lamentably to complaine, sadnesse neuer being sadder then in her; this brought mee to other of passions companions, desire, and longing to assist that afflicted creature, who by the words was spoke, appeard a woman and a louer. I drew neerer to gaine a sight if I could of her, when I perceiu'd her lie vpon the earth, her head on the roote of a weeping willow, which dropped downe her teares into the Christalline streames, hanging part of her faire armes ouer it, to embrace it selfe in that cleare glasse. Shee lay betweene the body of that sad tree, and the riuer which passed close by it, running as if in haste to carry their sorrowes from them, but sorrow in them had too sure abiding: shee was in the habit of a Shepherdesse, which pleased me to see, bringing my estate againe in my mind, wherein I liued first, that had bin enough to call reliefe from me; wherefore I was going to her, when she brake forth into these speeches, being mixt with many sighes, and fearefull stopps: Poore Liana (said shee) is this thy feruent loues reward? haue I got the hate of my friends, the curse of my parents, and the vtter vndo∣ing of my selfe, and hopes, to bee requited with falshood? Alas vnkind shep∣heard, what haue I deserud at thy hands, to be thus cruelly tormented, and vndeseruedly forsaken? neuer can, or may any loue thee better then I did, and doe, and must, though thou proue thus vnkind. That word (vnkind) brought a kind company of teares to second it; which I seeing, stept vnto her, who sorrowfully, and amazedly beheld me, feare and griefe ioyning together in her face, offering at first to haue gone from me; but I would not permit her to haue her mind in that, no more then fortune would suffer her to enioy; she staid, when I vs'd these words: Seeke not to leaue me, who haue been pincht with these torments, hauing loud, and somtimes wanted pity as much as you; shun not me experienced, since you cannot be better accompanied, then by me, who am not ignorant of such paines, and haue as much lamented ab∣sence, as you can dislike falshood, but now I haue gained freedome. Would all could find that cure (said she): but since you command, who seeme most fit to be obayd, I will not flee from you, nor had I at first offerd it, if not out of shame, to haue my follies discouerd by any except wild places, and sauage mountaines, as gentle and tender-hearted as my loue. It is no blame (said I) to loue, but a shame to him, who requires such a constant and worthy loue with no more respect; nor think you do amisse, or shal do, if you relate to me the whole story of your (as you call it) ill fortune, since meanes are allow'd in al businesses for redresse, and that you may chance to find here, at least some ease, the very complaining giuing respit from a greater sorrow, which continual thinking, & plodding on, wil bring you. You shal haue your wil (said she) and be by me denied nothing, since I see you gouerne or master Fate; and most I am ingaged to refuse none of your commands, since I haue once seene a face like yours, and no way inferior to your beauty, as much tor∣mented, as I am now afflicted; her name was Vrania, her dwelling in an Iland where I was borne, & my misery for me, though the place is cald, the pleasāt Pantaleria. I more curiously beholding her, called her to mind, hauing bin one of my best cōpanions; wherfore embracing her, I told her she said right,

and that I was the same Vrania, afflicted then for ignorance of mine estate, now known to be daughter to the King of Naples, but hers proceeding from loue, I againe intreated the vnderstanding of it: she then rose vp, and with sober, and low reuerence she began her discourse thus.

Most excellent Princess, poore Liana your seruant, being (as you know) Daughter to the chiefe Shepheard of that Iland, who had the title of Lord ouer the rest, being indeed a Noble man, and a great Lord by birth, in his owne Countrey, which was Prouence; but misery glorying to shew in great∣nesse, more then in meaner sorts of people. It happ'ned so, as the Earle of Prouence tooke dislike with him, and that growing to hate, he so farre prose∣cuted his spight, as he ceased not till he had vndone him, (an ••asie thing for a Prince to compasse ouer a Subiect.) Then hauing nothing left him but life, and misfortune, hee left his Countrey, seeking to gaine some solitary place to ende his daies in, he happened into that sweet Iland, and (as you haue heard I am sure very often) with his few friends, that would not for∣sake him, else left by fortune, inhabited in it, and call'd it by his name; nor did I till after your departure, know my Father to be other then the chiefe Shep∣heard. But my misfortune brought that knowledge, and makes me desire a speedy end; for thus it was.

I being his onely child, and so heire to all his estate, (which was great for a Shepherd) was by many sought, i••deed most, if not all the young, and best Shepherds of the Countrey; those youthes all striuing for me, made me striue how to vse them all alike, and so I did, likeing none, but courte∣ously refusing all, till (as euery one must haue a beginning to their misery) there came a Shepherd, and a stranger he was in birth to that place, yet gai∣ned he a neerer, and choycer acquaintance with my heart, and affection, then any of our home-bred•• neighbours. He call'd himselfe Alanius, and so if you haue heard part of my discourse, I am sure you haue already with that vn∣derstood his name, being the head-spring to my calamitie; for, Alanius I af∣fected, and onely lou'd; and to say truth, most desperatly did loue him, (O Loue, that so sweet a name, and so honour'd a power, should bring such dis∣asters;) secretly I lou'd somewhile vnknowne vnto himselfe, but not before his heart had made it selfe my prisoner, little imagining, mine had beene so much his subiect.

But so it continued, till his paine made him discouer his loue, and that pit∣tie I held ouer his paine, mixed with mine owne affection, compelld me to yeeld to my misfortune; yet, was Alanius then worthy of my loue, for hee loued me, and I must euer loue him still, though he be false. False, murde∣ring word, which with it selfe carries death, and millions of tortures ioynd with it; yet thou art so, and I vnfortunate to call thee so, else no worth wanted in thee. But this is too sadd a relation, I will proceed with the con∣tinuance of our Loues; which was for a pretty space, when another, who had before Alanius his comming thither, sought me for his wife, being of good estate, and of equall hope, to rise in his fortunes, giuen to husbandry, and such commendable qualities as Countrymen affect, and so it was my fa∣thers minde to breed me too, and therefore had giuen his consent, looking to the towardlinesse of the man, and the great blessing hee had receiued, in more then vsuall increase of his stocke. These were allurements to him,

while they were scarce heeded by me, the riches I looked vnto being fortune in our Loues, till one day, my Father call'd me to him, telling mee, what a match he had made for me, and not doubting of my liking, shewed much comfort which he had conceiud of it, and so went on with ioy, as if the ma∣riage had beene straight to bee consummated. I was, truely, a little amazed withall, till he finding I made no answere, pulling me to him, told mee, ••hee hop'd my silence proceeded from no other ground, then bashfulnesse, since he assur'd himselfe, I would not gainesay what he commanded, or so much as dislike what he intended to doe with me, wherefore hee would haue mee ioyne my dutifull agreement to his choice, and order my loue to goe along with his pleasure, for young maides eyes should like onely where their Fa∣ther liked, and loue where he did appoint. This gaue me sight to my grea∣ter mischiefe, wherefore I kneeld downe, words I had few to speake, one∣ly with teares I besought him to remember his promise, which was, neuer to force me against my will, to marry any. Will (said he) why your Will ought to be no other then obedience, and in that, you should be rather wil∣full in obeying, then question what I appoint; if not, take this and bee as∣sured of it, that if you like not as I like, and wed where I will you, you shall neuer from me receiue least fauour, but be accompted a stranger and a lost childe.

These words ran into my soule, like poyson through my veines, chilling it, as the cold fit of an Ague disperseth the coldnesse ouer all ones body; for not being Alanius whom he meant, it was death to me to heare of marri∣age, yet desirous to seeme ignorant, and to be resolud, who it was, I desired to know, who it was it pleased him to bestow vpon me. Hee reply'd, one more worthy then thou canst imagine thy selfe deseruing, then naming him; that name was like a Thunder-bolt to strike my life to death, yet had I strength, though contrary to iudgement, to doe this. I kneeld againe, and told him, that if he please to kill me, I should better, and more willing∣ly embrace it, else, vnlesse he did desire to see me wretched, and so to con••clude my daies in misery, I besought him to alter his purpose, for of any man breathing I could not loue him, nor any, but. That But I staid withall, yet he in rage proceeded: But, cryd he, what, haue you setled you affecti∣ons else where? Who is this fine man hath wonne your idle fancie? Who hath made your duty voide? Whose faire tongue hath brought you to the foulenesse of disobedience? Speake, and speake truely, that I may dis∣cerne what choice you can make, to refuse my fatherly authoritie ouer you? I truely trembled, yet meaning to obey him, as much as it was possible for me to doe, in my heart, louing the expression of dutie, I told him it was Alanius. Alanius, a trimme choice truely (said he) and like your owne wit, and discretion; see what you haue done, choose a man, onely for ou••side; a stranger, and for any thing we know, a run-away from his countrey, none knowing him, nor himselfe being able to say, what he is? I weeping im∣plor'd a better opinion of him, since I assured my selfe, that if I could come to the blessing of enioying him, all happinesse in this world would come with it, else desird he would wedd me to my graue, rather then to a∣ny, but Alanius, whom onely I did, or could loue, and one whom I had not placed my affections vpon alone, but life, and all hope of comfort. How he

was moou'd with this (alas sigh'd shee) imagine you; truely so much, as (being by nature cholericke) I verily thought, he would haue kill'd me, his eyes sparkled with furie, his speech was stopp'd, so as not being able to bring foorth one word, he flung out of the roome, locking mee fast vp for that night, without hope, or comfortable company, but my owne sorrow, and teares, which neuer left me; and those were more pleasing to mee, when I said to my selfe, thus doe I suffer for Alanius. The next morning he sent one of his seruants to me, a young Ladd who loued me well, (but was faster tied in seruice to your command, said she to me, once ouerioy'd, when you sent him to attend a Knight, and after your going away, also left that Iland, whe∣ther to seeke you, and so to serue you, or hating the poorenesse of that place when you were absent,) but this youth being sent by my Father, to know if I continued in the same disobedience, I was in the night before, I sent him word, that I should hate my selfe, if my conscience should euer be able to accuse me of such an offence; but true it was, my loue continued as firme, and vnremouable to Alanius, as it did: for alas, what can change a constant heart, which is fixed like Destiny? I could not let any thing come neere me, which might be mistrusted to lead one piece of change, or carry one ragg of it abroad, my heart like the Woole the briars catch, torne, and spoil'd, rather then pull'd from it. O intolerable seruitude, where fast holding is a losse, and loosing a gaine, yet rather had I lose, while I keepe vertuous con∣stancie.

With the answer I gaue, return'd the youth, wherupon without seeing me, he sent me to a Sisters house of his to bee kept (and sorry I am, I must call her his Sister, or keepe this memory of her, for a more diuellish creature neuer liu'd) there I was halfe a yeare, without meanes to let Alanius know of my imprisonment; he sought (guided by loue) for mee, but hauing no truer a director found me not, till one day comming with his Flocks, as hee was accustomed to doe, into the faire Plaine, where we were wont to meet, he mett this Ladd, who seeing him sadd, asked what he ayl'd. Alanius re∣plide, how can he choose but mourne, whose heart is kept from him? In∣deed (said he) I cannot blame you hauing such a losse, and yet sure you haue a heart in place of it, else could you not liue to feele, and discouer the want of yours; but did you know what tormenting sorrow she feeles for you, you would yet be more perplexed. Wretch that I am (cryed he) can shee bee tormented, and for me? and liue I to heare of it, without redres∣sing it? Yet what talke I (foole that I am?) Can my cries ayde her? Can the baying of my Lambes assist her? Can my poore Flocke buy her free∣dome? Can I merit her release? Or can, indeed, my selfe thinke I am wor∣thy, or borne to such a blessednesse, as to releeue her, vext, and harm'd for me? What power hast thou but ouer thy teares to flow for her? What assistance, but sheepe, innocent, as thy selfe, and loyall passion? What Armes but thy Sheepe-hooke, which can onely catch a beast, while thou (vnwor∣thy cr••ature) art not able to helpe her? The poorest thing can assist a friend of the same kinde, but thou canst neither helpe her, nor thy selfe, worst of things created; end, and rid the World of such corruption, for why should I breath, if not to serue Liana? You may serue her, and relieue her, said the youth, if you will heare, and but take aduise: and more will I doe for you,

then I would for any other, since I find you loue her (as indeed you ought to doe). Then be satisfied thus farre (if you will trust me, who will neuer be but true), I will tell you where she is, and giue you all assistance towards her de∣liuery. She is in yonder house, vpon the top of that hill, which shewes it self as boldly boasting in the cruelty is committed there, by warrant of a cruell father: with her Aunt she is (yet still your Liana) so close kept, as none, saue my selfe, may see her, who from her father visits her once a day, though not for loue that he sends, but to trie, if by his vnfatherly tortures, shee may bee wrought to leaue louing you: but so much he failes in this, as it is impossible by famine to make one leaue to wish for food, but rather with the want, to increase the longing to it: which he seeing, threatneth the forsaking her. Oft haue I carried this message, and as oft returnd sorrowfull, receiuing his doome, but direct deniall to his demaunds; and truly it hath euen grieu'd my soule, to see how terribly she hath been perplext and handled, by those rude and merciles executors of his will, who can no way alter her, if not to blame them for their curstnes, who neuer was but mild to them, and this morning did I see her, when she vtterd these words. Alas (said she) vnhappy Liana; how art thou afflicted for thy constancy? yet this tell my father, his kind commands had more wrought in me, then his cruelty, yet neither against my loialty in loue; but now so hardned I am against paine, with vse of paine, as all torment, and millions of them added to the rest, shall haue no power to moue, the least in my affection to vnworthy change, for then should my soule smart, as onely now my body is subiect to these torments. This I told truly to my Master, who nothing was mou'd by it, but to more rage, sending ano∣ther of my fellowes to his sister, coniuring her, that since neither perswasions, nor the begun tortures would preuaile, she should vse any other means, with what affliction she could to alter her, sparing none (so her limmes were not harmd by them) which no doubt shall bee executed. Wherefore you must thinke speedily to aide her, who indures for you, still resolud to beare misery for you; and assure your self she wil indure al can be laid vpon her, rather then faile in one title to you, or Loues fealty; and no way I know more sure and speedy, then to write her a letter, which I will deliuer, and therein let her know, the true and constant affection you beare her (which will bring sole comfort to her dolefull heart), and that (if she wil venture) to bring her selfe to happines in freedom, and to make you mutually contented, she must meet you in the little wood, next below the house, where you will not faile her, & carry her from these miseries into all delight and pleasure. Ah my deare friend (said he), how hast thou bound me by thy friendship, and louing care to vs both? but how canst thou performe this? If that be all (said he) let mee alone, nor take you care, for it shall be my charge, which I will honestly dis∣charge, and deliuer it with mine owne hands, as if it came from her father, which shall be the meanes to haue the roome priuate for our discourse: what shal then hinder me, from discouering your desires, and her happines? This agreed vpon, they parted for that time, the youth to his flock, Alanius to his pen & paper, that euening meeting again, according to appointment; and then leauing Alanius to prepare al things ready against my cōming, to cōuey me to the next town, there to be maried, himself comming to me, leauing the fals shepherd, who fairly like the falsest betraier of blis, promised to be in rea∣dines for vs: the honest lad did his part, telling my aunt that he was to speak

with me presently, and in great priuate. She mistrusting little (and glad to let any of my fathers men see how circumspectly she kept his orders), brought him vp, instantly after, she had afflicted me with iron rods. When I saw the Youth, Alas (said I), are you come with more torments? for pities sake let me now haue an end, and take my life, the best and last prize of your tiran∣nies. His answer was, he could not alter his Masters will, nor be a messenger of other, then he was intrusted with all, as hee was with a secret message vnto me; wherefore intreating mine Aunt, and the rest by, to leaue the roome, they left vs together; they gone, and wee free from danger, he began thus: Thinke not sweet Liana that I am now come with any matter of griefe, but with the welcome tidings of the long desir'd blisse of enioying, if you wil not your selfe marre your owne content. Is it possible (cry'd she) that I can liue to see happinesse? Reade this (said he), and then tell me, whether you may resolue to be happy or no, or so refuse it. I tooke the letter, and with exces∣siue ioy (said shee) I opened it, finding in that his firmenesse: for what was there wanting, which might content me? loyalty professed in large prote∣stations, affection expressed in the dearest kind, and sweetest manner; besides a meanes for our happinesse most of all belieued, and sought. What can you imagine then Madam (said she) that I did? I kist the letter, wept with ioy, too soone fore-telling the greater cause, which for his sake I suffered, teares proouing then but slight witnesses for my far deeper suffering; when I found all this contrary, and my Alanius false, the heauens I thought would sooner change, and snow lie on AEtna, then he would breake his faith, or be vngrate∣full to me, who then for him ventured life and fortunes; for, to fulfill his de∣sire, I went with the Youth, cald Menander, hauing gotten such things as were necessary for my escape, assisted by a maid in the house, who much pitied my estate, but more loued Menander, who made vse of it that night for my bene∣fit. In a disguise which he had brought thither, vnder colour of necessaries, we left the house, and soone arriu'd at the appointed Groue, which was at the Hilles foote. All the way feare possessed me, left I had too long staid, and so giuen him cause of vnkindnes, that I no faster hasted to him, who alone could truly giue me life in comfort, and desire to see him, made me accuse my selfe of long tarrying, especially when I saw him there; but what saw I with that? death to my ioy, and martirdome to my poore heart: for there I saw him in anothers armes, wronging my faith, and breaking his made vowes. I stood in amaze, not willing to belieue mine eyes, accusing them that they would carry such light to my knowledge, when to bring me to my self, or ra∣ther to put me quite from my selfe, I heard him vse these speeches: It is true; I lou'd Liana, or indeed her fortune, which made me seeke her; but in compa∣rison of thee, that affection borne to her, was hate, and this onely loue, rather esteeming my self happy in enioying thee, and thy delights, then if endowed with this whole Iland. What is riches without loue (which is in truth the on∣ly riches)? and that doe I now possesse in thee. These words turnd my ama∣zednes to rage, crying out; O false and faithlesse creature, beast, and no man, why hast thou thus vildly betrayd thy constant Liana? Hee looking vp, and perceiuing me, and his fault, said nothing, but as fast as guiltines stor'd with shame could carry him, hee fled, his delight (or wanton) following him, which way they tooke, when out of the Groue, I know not, nor the ho∣nest Lad, who would not leaue mee, bearing part with mee in griefe,

and I with him of shame, infinitely molested, that hee was made an instru∣ment in my betraying. When I had endured a little space (like a Cabinet so fild with treasure, as though not it selfe, yet the lock or hinges cannot con∣taine it, but breake open): so did the lock of my speech flie abroad, to disco∣uer the treasure of my truth, and the infinitenesse of his falshood, not to bee comprehended, Passions grew so full, and strong in mee, I swounded, and came againe to feele and increase misery: hee perswaded, I was willing to heare him, who I saw had been in goodnesse to me, cosned as I was. We left the Groue (accursed place, and in it my cause of curses) comming into a faire meadow, a dainty wood being before it, and another on the side of it; there did my vnfortunate eies againe meete with Alanius, vnlucky encounter where I saw such falshood, which yet boldly venturd towards mee, hee run∣ning with greatest haste after me, but sending his voyce before him, coniu∣ring me by the loue I bare him, to heare him, calling mee his Liana: but as I saw him, so did his error appeare vnto me, and yet did griefe rather then hate hold the glasse to me•• for though he had neglected, and deceiued me, and so forsaken my truth, to ioy in the loose delights of another, yet I mournd that he was deceitfull, for (God knowes) I loue him still. I fled from him, but sent my hearts wishes for his good to him, like the Parthian arrowes, which by his cries seemd to wound him, and my words (though few) to strike him, which as I ran from him, I threw back to him; It is true, I was yours, while I was accounted so by you; but you haue cut the knot, aud I am left to ioine the pieces againe in misfortune, and your losse of loue: all happinesse attend you, the contrary abiding in me, who am now your forsaken, and so, afflicted Liana. With this I got the Wood to shelter me, and the thickest part of it, at my petition to grant me succour, coueting now the greatest shade to hide me from him, to whom, and into thick shades, I lately ran. In this manner I liu'd a while there, neuer seeing company, or light, but against my will, still haun∣ting the priuatest places, and striuing to gaine the sea, which soone after I ob∣taind, getting the opportunity of a youths passing into Italy, who had sought Perissus, to bring him notice of his Vncles death, the King of Sicily; with him I passed, and so came into this country, where euer since I haue romingly en∣dured, neuer in any one place setled. The youth Menander and I, parted at the sea, he (I thinke) going to seeke his Master, or rather you, then did shee close her speech with multitudes of teares, which truly mooud mee to much compassion, beginning then to hold her deare to me. I perswaded her to leaue that life, and liue with me, who would accompany her sorrowes, rather then afflict her with mirth; and besides, it might bee, in my company shee might gaine remedy for her torture. No remedy but death (said shee) can I haue, and too long (O me) haue I sought that; yet to obay you, I will abide some time here, and but here in these woods, beseeehing you not to vrge me to the Court, when the poorest place, much better doth agree with my estate. I to enioy her conuersation, granted to any thing, concluding that I should often visit her, and so passe our times together in louing discourse.

This, said Amphilanthus, (by your fauour sweete sister) prooues you loue; the water it seemes, hath not so thorowly washed away your affection, but reliques remaine of the old passion.

No truly dear••st brother (said shee) all those thoughts are cleane droun'd;

but yet; I will goe on with my story. Doe deare Sister (said he) and begin againe at (But yet). She blusht to find he had taken her, and yet daintily pro∣ceeded. That promise most religiously was kept betweene vs, euery day I visiting my Shepherdesse. But one day as we were together discoursing and walking in the wood, we heard one not farre from vs, sadly to sing an od kind of song, which I remember, getting afterwards the coppy of it; and if I bee not deceiu'd sweet Cosin (said she) you will like it also; the song was this, speaking as if she had by him, and the words directed to her, as his thoughts were.

YOu powers diuine of loue-commanding eyes, Within whose lids are kept the fires of loue; Close not your selues to ruiue me, who lies In bands of death, while you in darkenesse moue.

One looke doth giue a sparck to kindle flames To burne my heart, a martyr to your might, Receiuing one kind smile I find new frames For loue, to build me wholly to your light.

My soule doth fixe all thoughts vpon your will, Gazing vnto amazement, greedy how To see those blessed lights of loues-heauen, bow Themselues on wretched me, who else they kill.

You then that rule loues God, in mercy flourish: Gods must not murder, but their creatures nourish.

Pamphilia much commended it, which pleased Vrania infinitely, touch∣ing (as she thought) her one estate, while a proper song, and well composd: truly (said Amphilanthus) is this to be so much liked? but my cosin only doth it to please you. No in truth, said Pamphilia, it deserues in my iudgement much liking; he smild on her, Vrania going on, you seeme Brother, said she, a little willing to crosse me this day, but I will proceed in discourse. The song (you are pleasd to iest at) being ended, the same voyce againe did begin to la∣ment in this manner: If scorne be ordaind the reward for true loue, then I am fully requited? if firme affection must be rewarded with contempt, and forsaking, I am richly pay'd? but if these deserue a sweet payment, which a∣lone consisteth in deare loue, then am I iniurd, and none more causelesly affli∣cted, or cruelly reiected? Loue, suffer what thou wilt, faith indure all neg∣lect, but euer be your selues pure and vnspotted. Vnkind Liana, yet pardon me for calling thee so, since my heart grieues at that word vnkind, yet giue me leaue to tell thee, I haue not deseru'd this punishment from thee, nor meri∣ted this rigor, if anothers offence may make me faulty, I am most guilty, els as free as my loue still is to thee, from blame, or thought of staine in it: art thou not then vniust (sweete Iudge of all my harmes) to punish me without a fault committed: Pitie me yet, and recall the censure wrongfully giuen on me, condemned without a cause, and still led on towards execution in daily tor∣tures

without merit. Did any man die for anothers act? then I must also suf∣fer that tiranny, else consider, falfe iudgement is a shame vnto the Iudge, and will lie heauy on his conscience: call backe then e're I die, this vnmerited verdict, since my truth with-stands thy cruelty. I would with Liana haue gone to see who this was that thus accused her, but that we heard him againe say some Verses, which being concluded, we went to him; but as wee went, we heard another speake vnto him thus. Alanius, why doe you thus accuse Liana, and torment your selfe with that, which were shee certaine of, shee would, and must pity you? nor can you blame her for flying you, seeing as we both belieued your vnkindnesse and foule error. Alas, said Alanius, farre be it from me euer to blame her, nor can my soule permit me to loue her lesse, though she were curst; nay, were she false, I yet should loue her best; but be∣ing by you assured of her truth, giue me leaue to blame her rashnes, and curse my owne ill fortune, and vnluckie life, which gaue, and giues such dislike and smart vnto my dearer selfe, and my sad daies. Liana now knew not what to doe, when she was certaine this complainer was Alanius, and the other (as she did imagine) Menander: but I willing to reconcile such broken fortunes, made her goe towards him, accompaning her sorrowes my selfe. When be∣ing neere him, and he looking vp, perceiuing her (without ceremony, or re∣garding me) ran vnto her, and kneeling downe, cry'd out these words. Alas my deare Liana, what hath your vnhappy slaue Alanius deseru'd to be thus pi∣tilesse tortured? heare but the truth, and before you rashly censure me, con∣sider my great wrongs, which I still suffer by mistakes in you. Liana, who lo∣ued as much as he, and was as equally perplexed, yet now a little more, if pos∣sible bearing her owne, and his sorrow; for her affliction as being his, and caused by her, she lifted him vp from the ground, and with teares said: Think not my Alanius thy Liana can be other to thee, then thou wilt haue her be, yet blame me not directly for these things, since here Menander can resolue thee of the cause: yet let that passe, and now bee confident, thy loue hath such command mee, as hadst thou been (false she would not say) as we imagined thy repentance, and thy loued sight should haue destroyd all those thoughts, where in offence might haue been borne to thee, and so forgetfulnes in mee had gouernd with the memory of thy loue. Then rising, with a kisse the lo∣uers reconcil'd themselues, and cast away their mourning: but the story being strange where on their mistaking did arise, you shall heare that some other time.

Nay sweet Vrania (said Amphilanthus) let vs heare it now, where can we be better then here? what company so pleasing, or dearer to vs? If Pamphilia be agreed (said she) I will continue it. Take no care of me (said she), for be∣lieue it, I am neuer so happy, as when in this company; eyes then spake, and shee proceeded. Wee sat then downe, and Alanius kneeling before vs, be∣gan: The first part of my life (and the happy part I am sure) this Shep∣herdesse hath related, and brought it to the full period of it, nay to the height of my misery; wherefore I will begin with the succession of that, and as I imagine where shee left, which was with her leauing mee in the plaine, or better to resolue you of the deceit, with the night before wee were to meet; she cōming before me to the place appointed, saw (as she ima∣gined) my selfe her louer, wronging my loue, and her: well, and ill for me she

might conceiue of it so, but thus in truth it was. There liu'd a Shepherd then, (and my companion he was) who bewitched with a young maydes loue, that vnluckily had plac'd her loue on me, plotted to deceiue her, and in my shape to winne, what his owne person could not purchase him; where∣fore that (in that) vnlucky night, he came vnto my lodging, and stole away my clothes, I vsually on solemne dayes did weare; in these habits he went into the Groue, being so like in stature, speech, and fauor, as he oftentimes was taken, euen for me. Knowing her walke in the euening, to be towards those woods, in the Plaine he saw her, and followed her into the Groue, ouertaking her, iust in the same place appointed for our blisse; being a little darkish, she mistooke him, and hoping it was I, was content to be blinded: but wherein I doe most accuse him, was, he vsed some words (to giue her true assurance 'twas my selfe) concerning deare Liana. These vnhappily ••hee heard, and these, I must confesse, gaue full assurance of my faulsest fault. I cannot blame thee sweet, loue made thee feare, and feare inraged thee, and yet (my heart) thou mightest haue heard thy poore Alanius speak, yet, as this honest Ladd told me, thou didst neuer hate my person, though condemne my disloialtie, which in my greatest misery, gaue yet some easie stopp vnto my paine, and that thou didst assure me of, for in all thy fury and flight, thou seemedst to wish me bless'd. She hauing made more hast then I, came thither first, and so perceiu'd (as shee mistrusted) my amisse. I following my first directions, likewise came, but in her stead, onely I dis∣cernd the footesteps of a woman hauing gone in hast; I had no thought, nor end of thinking but of Liana, fear'd some danger to her selfe, or harme which had ensued, as the night and vnfrequented places might produce. Not dreaming on this harme, I followed those steps, (for hers I knew they were, her foot so easie was to be discerned from any others, as a dainty Lambs from any other sheepe) long had I not persued, and euen but newly in the meadow, when I did see my deare, but she as much offended there∣withall, as I was ioyd at first, fledd from me, giuing mee such language, as my fate appear'd by that, to be vndone. I cry'd to her, shee ••ledd from me, accusd me, and yet did wish all happinesse attend me; this was comfort in despaire. I followed still, till I lost, not my selfe, but my witts, growing as madd, and doing as many tricks, as euer creature distracted did or could com∣mitt.

From Pantaleria I got into Cicilie, in a boat taken vp by a Pyrat, for a boo∣ty, but finding in what estate I was, he landed me at Naples. There I passed some time, where yet the fame liues of my madnesse; distemper'd as I was, I fell in company with a louing Knight, (as since I vnderstood by this my dearest friend) who was in the next degree to madnes, louing ouermuch, and with him came into this kingdome, where I haue lost him, but heere gained my friend Menander, who conducted me vnto a vertuous Lady, skil∣full in Physicke, who neuer left with curious medicines, and as curious paines, till I recouer'd my lost wits againe. Then being sensible (and most of my distresse) I tooke my leaue, and with Menander, came vnto this place, be∣ing directed by as sadd a man, as I then was, now come againe to life by you, my deare forgiuer, and my onely ioy.

What man directed you so neere the Court, said Liana? an vnlikely place

to finde my sorrow by. A poore, and miserable Louer too, said Alanius, who we found laid vnder a Willow tree, bitterly weeping, and bewailing the cruelty of a Shepherdesse who had vnwillingly made her selfe mistris of his heart. We went to him, to demand some things of him, which as well as griefe would suffer him, he answered vs, but so strangely, as appear'd, he de∣sired to speake of nothing but his Loue, and torture for it; telling vs, that he was a man, whose Destiny was made to vndoe him, louing one, who no griefe, teares, praiers, or that estate they held him in, could bring to pitty, hauing setled her loue so much vpon another, as shee hated all that sought, (though for their good) to worke her thoughts to change.

By the discourse, and description, we soone found, it was no other then your sweetest selfe, my deare Liana, that brought vs hither, where wee are assur'd of you, and what we hoped for before; vnder that tree we left him, where he vowes to remaine while he hath life, and after, there to be buried, that being his bed, and then shall be his Tombe. Liana modestly denied the knowledge of any such matter, so with much affection, and such loue, as I yet neuer saw the Image of the like; they welcom'd each other, hearts, eyes, tongues, all striuing to expresse their ioyes. Then did they returne with me to the Court, and were those two strangers, you deare brother, commended so in the Pastorall. Menander I tooke to waite on mee, who conf••ss'd, hee had (as Liana told me) left Pantaleria to finde me, and now is hee here atten∣ding in my Chamber. This sweet discourse ended, they rose and went in∣to the Court, the Princes liking this which so kindly concluded with en∣ioying.

But that being so blessed a thing, as the name is a blessing without the benefit, must be now in that kinde, onely bereft some, who deserues the richest plenty of it. Ollorandus continuing in the Morean Court, newes was brought vnto him of his Brothers death, by which hee was now Prince of Bohemia, and besides desired by his old Father to returne, that he might see him, if possible, before his death, which, both for age, and griefe of his Sons death, was likewise soone to befall him. The Prince met Amphilan∣thus iust at his returne from the walks, hauing left the Ladies in their cham∣ber, and was going to seeke him, to discourse some of his passions to him, but he preuented him thus.

Most deare, and onely worthy friend, read this; I dare not beseech your company from this place, but see my necessity, and so weigh my fortune; you know that I haue beene enioynd not to leaue you, you know likewise, what good I must receiue from you, when is that likely to come but now? Amphilanthus read a letter which he gaue him, and thereby saw he was to accompany his friend, and leaue his better friend (because more deare) be∣hinde. In great perplexitie he was, diuided twixt two loues, and one to be dissembl'd, yet he answer'd thus.

The happinesse befalne to Bohemia in you, I ioy for, and yet in compari∣son of you, it is but little, your merits being more then that Kingdome can pay, or many answer; but are you resolu'd to goe straight thither? What needs such a iourney, since passion is strongest at the first? and if it would haue causd your Fathers death, that before now happened; neuer bee so doubtfull of his safety, but bee confident he is well, or if other, you may

(time enough) goe thither: the Countrey so much loues you, as they will neuer let your absence wrong you; the same of your valour is such, as none dare goe about to vsurpe your right: your cares then, thus may bee settled for home businesses, and you resolue to heare once more from your Countrey, before you goe thither. Your promises here infinitely ingage your stay. How will you answere the going your selfe, and carrying mee, (who I must not leaue) from the succour, you formerly promised Steriamus? The time growes on, and the Army will bee together within this moneth, ready to martch; besides, his confidence is as much in you, and mee, as in a good part of the Troope, how can wee dispence with this? Put it off I beseech you, if you will fauour vs so much, and yet, thinke not I speake this to deny going with you, or to show vnwillingnesse, but in truth, out of these reasons.

And one more (deare friend) said Ollorandus, the Queene Pamphilia I heare, is shortly to returne into her owne Kingdome, whither you promis'd to conduct her. That is true, said Amphilanthus, yet I preferre my friend∣ly respect to you before such a seruice, and to such an one whose iudgement is mix'd with that noblenesse, as she will not binde one to anothers harme, to performe a complement to her; yet I must confesse it would grieue mee to faile her, who on my promise came hither from Cyprus, nor would I leaue her vnguarded, or guarded by any but my selfe, if not to goe with you; whose loue, and company, I esteeme aboue all mens, or any fortune.

My loue, said Ollorandus shall waite vpon yours, equall it, I dare not say, my selfe being so much inferiour to you in all perfections, as all parts of me must yeeld to you; but to my ability, mine shall approue it selfe, and euer be faithfull; but let me say this to you, that these reasons are nothing to hin∣der me, your commands hath more force, and euer shall bee of power, to alter and rule my courses. For Steriamus, I loue him next to you, and aboue mine owne Kingdome, which else is most to me; if alone, that call'd vpon me, I would stay: but I am summon'd by my Father, duty herein obligeth me, nor is there such present neede of my going into Albania; it will bee a moneth, you say, before the Army be ioynd, it may bee two, well then, How long will they be martching? Besides, you haue no certaine••y which way you must passe: through Epirus, you shall not without fighting, the braue and faire Queene of that Countrey hath alreadie refused it, Where∣fore I say, by that time euery thing be ready, and the Army neere Albania, we may meet it, and come time enough to serue Steriamus. You said, an∣swered Amphilanthus, I had one reason more then I alleadged to you, but I will sweare you want not another cause to inuite you that way; must not I be fauourd by you to see your Melysinda, this is the kingdome you prouide for, and this is the true ende of your obedience. If you haue gessed right, I cannot blame you, said Ollorandus, hauing a sense of parting in you. Well, let my going be for her sake, and your stay for the other, heere wee must part then? Not so, said Amphilanthus, I will goe with you, especially if you entend to goe into Hungaria. I intend that, said he, if I liue; then must I break all appointments, and attend you: they embraced, and so parted, resoluing with all speed to take their voyage. Ollorandus promising himselfe much good in it, Amphilanthus heartily mourning; but the graue Melissea had

coniur'd them not to part, and therefore he must obey. When Supper was done, Amphilanthus and Selarinus, (according to their custome) brought the Queene of Pamphilia to her Chamber, with whom Vrania lay by her intrea∣ty, and Selarina in the next roome, being then likewise there. When they were thither come, Amphilanthus countenance changed from the wonted manner of mirth, and excellent discourse turn'd into silence, and sighes: It made the Ladies sadd to see it, and desirous•• to know the ca••se, Vrania therefore began to aske the reason of this alteration. Hee casting his eyes with true sadnes where his heart was prisoner, (Selarina standing iust before him) onely said, that till that time he was neuer so afflicted. Whereby my Lord, said Pamphilia, if I may aske the reason why, being with desire to serue you, if my seruice may auayle you? Alas Madam, said he, it is in you to make me happy. Then can you neuer misse happinesse, said she.

With that Vrania and Selarinus, and his Sister, left them together sitting on the bed, they walking to the window, and finding their discourse long, went into the next roome, which was a Cabinet of the Queenes, where her bookes and papers lay; so taking some of them, they passed a while in reading of them, and longer they would haue done so, but that they heard excellent mu∣sick, which cald them to hearken to it. It did consiste of Lutes and Voyces, and continued till the end of the discourse betweene the matchlesse Princes; which being finished, they came to them, and Amphilanthus told them, hee was now at liberty to goe: To goe, whi••her (said Vrania)? a tedious, and vn∣willing voyage (said hee), but Destiny will haue it so; yet shall I goe better contented then I feard I should haue done, and yet with that more perplex'd, because I goe. Some other speeches passed, Vrania extreamely bewailing his going, and more grieuing, when she knew the resolution taken by Pamphilia also to depart. These sorrowes tooke away their attention from the song, and now being late, Amphilanthus and Selarinus tooke their leaues for that night, going downe a back-way through a Garden where this musick was; being to passe by them, and vnwilling to be seene, they threw their cloakes ouer their faces, and so purposed to passe. But the Master of that company hating any man that receiued fauor from his Lady, when he wanted it (not imagining Amphilanthus had been one) rudely pull'd the cloake of Selarinus downe. Amphilanthus instantly drew his sword, and strake him on the head, the other likewise struck, but they were parted quickly, and making no more noise, the offence giuer knowing Selarinus retird, they passing on without more hinderance into their chambers. Amphilanthus come to his, indured the night with much impatiency, the day being as he thought spiteful to him, and therfore would not appeare; when she did, he kindly forgaue her stay, & instantly made himself ready to attend her. Into the Garden walks hee went, knowing the Ladies would not be long from thence; but wandring vp and downe, as his thoughts were restlesse, he came to the Willow tree, where An∣tissia found Pamphilia: vnder that he lay, where not being long, he heard the voices of men, on that other side of the riuer, & hearkning a little, vnderstood what they said, & by their voices who they were. He marueld infinitly at the discourse, whē he found it was Leandrus whō he had struck, & was as sory for it, as if he had willingly hurt his brother: but remēbring the maner, he knew he was not to be blamd, for the man who puld his friends cloake downe, had

drawne his owne hat so low ouer his eyes, as although hee was able vnder it to see him, yet it hindred the discouery of himselfe. Well Leandrus (said he) thanke thy selfe for this; and though thou didst offer the iniury, I am sorry for thee, and glad I did no more harme to thee. But the other pursuing their discourse, he heard it resolu'd, that if Pamphilia did refuse him, he would vse all meanes possible to win her by her friends, the last meanes hee would vse, should be by Amphilanthus, who hee would intreate to be a mediator for him, if he denied, he might take vnkindnes to him for it, if Selarinus married her, he might haue a iust quarrell to him for seeking her, when he was a pro∣fest suiter to her.

These things troubled the Prince, and most to see such ill nature in Lean∣drus, for the other he knew he should haue time enough to bee reuenged of him at his pleasure. Hauing heard thus much (and soone is enough found, when ill is discernd where goodnesse should be seene) he went back into the Woods, and there met Pamphilia, Vrania, Rosindi, Steriamus, and Selarinus, comming together, and saying, they had sent Philarchos to seeke him. Here∣ply'd, those Woods and walkes could giue the onely account of him since day. Pleasantly they passed a while together, when Parselius and his Delinea also came vnto them, and passing downe towards the riuer, Amphilanthus turnd them backe, they wondring at it, but hee intreating them, they obayd. Surely (said Rosindy) it is because he will not see the place where hee had so great an iniury done him, as to haue me taken for him. Amphila••thus neuer hauing heard of that before, would not be denied, till hee had all the story, which the brother and sister deliuer'd to him.

And haue you sufferd (said he) thus much for me? alas that I might liue and be worthy to deserue it. They then turnd againe towards the company, but the place being deuided into many seuerall walkes, the troope had deui∣ded it selfe, euery couple hauing taken a different walke: which Rosindy see∣ing, and besides perceiuing Orilena comming alone; I will not sure (said hee) be out of fashion, wherefore I will leaue you two together, and take yonder Lady to walke with me; then were they wel placed; for Steriamus had Vrania, Parselius his Dalinea, Rosindy his sister, and Selarinus was before gone in, to ••all forth Selarina.

Thus they passed the morning, and then returnd to dinner, where they found Leandrus full of discontent, but this company made him dissemble it. After dinner the King call'd his daughter Pamphilia to him, telling her what an earnest suiter Leandrus was to him for his consent to haue her in mar∣riage, which he liked very well of, considering his worth, and the fitnesse of his estate, alleaging all the reasons that a wise and carefull father could make vnto himselfe, or perswade with, to a beloued daughter. To which she hum∣bly made this answere; That all those things his Maiesty had said, she confes∣sed to be true, and that he was worthy of the greatest fortune the world had in a wife: but his Maiestie had once married her before, which was to the Kingdome of Pamphilia, from which Husband shee could not bee diuorced, nor euer would haue other, if it might please him to giue her leaue to enioy that happinesse; and besides, besought his permis∣sion, for my Lord (said shee) my people looke for me, and I must needs be with them.

Why, said the King, that is but as if it were a portion giuen you to your mar∣riage? Not to Leandrus my Lord (said shee) I beseech you, for I cannot loue him; nor can I belieue he loues in me ought besides my kingdome, and my honour in being your daughter; Antissia better fitteth him, who was ap∣pointed for him. The King knew she had reason for what she said, and so assu∣ring her, that he would not force her to any thing against her mind, though he should be glad of the match, if it could content her, they fell into other dis∣course, and then the King going in, the young Princes euery one discours'd where they liked best. Amphilanthus was gone forth with Ollorandus, the rest altogether; Selarinus comming to Pamphilia, and telling her what an acci∣dent happened to him the night before, when (said he) I was likely to haue been well knockt (but for Amphilanthus) for being honourd in your pre∣sence so late. The Queene who bore dislike enough before to Leandrus, was euen inraged now against him, yet her discretion told her, the lesse that were spoken of, the much better it would bee, wherefore she said little of it, but discoursed with Selarinus, as she vs'd to doe finely and plainely, being the man she only trusted as a friend, and who indeed euer proou'd so vnto her, as in many actions she had triall of. Now was Selarinus in loue desperately with Philistella, the second daughter to the King of Morea, a young princesse so ex∣celling in fairenes, as snow & roses could but equall the white, and red in her face: neuer was seene so excellent a beauty for whitenesse, for though Pam∣philia had the fame for the onely Princesse liuing, yet was she not so white in the face as Philistella; her beauty being in sweetenesse and louelinesse, most excelling, and in the richnesse of her mind, which beautified her person, and yet the purenesse of her skinne (for as much as was seene as necke and hands) did farre surpasse her sister, which yet was thought to bee, but because the younger Ladies face, was without all comparison so pure and faire, as made her other skinne (though excellent) shew duller by it: her haire was whi∣ter then the Queenes, but hers was brighter, hauing a glasse vpon it, match∣lesse for rarenesse of colour, and shining. This Philistella had conquered the hearts of many, but Selarinus was the man, that sought her with most hope, the others either not daring, or knowing they were not fit for her, con∣tented themselues with beholding her, and knowing they fruitlesly did lan∣guish in that loue.

Now had Selarinus broken this secret to Pamphilia, who at this time tooke occasion to speake againe of it, which was such content to him, as nothing could be more; and moou'd that passion in him, as his face and eyes spake for his heart, that it was vpon the rack of hope and feare. Leandrus seeing this, belieued it had been for Pamphilia, which mooued him to greater ha∣tred against him, verily thinking it to be this Prince whom she affected, see∣ing how willingly shee did embrace his company. Amphilanthus then came in, whom Leandrus straight went vnto, desiring him, that he would giue him one thing that he would demand of him. Aske (said hee) any thing of mee whereto I am not engaged, and I will grant it you. I know not how I may secure my selfe in that (said hee) for if you haue a mind to refuse vnder this, you may deny me all.

Nay (said he) mistrust not me causelesly, nor touch me with such basenesse, for neuer yet dealt I but truly with all men. Pardon me my Lord (said hee)

and I will take your word, if you will first except some number of things whereto you are ingaged. Only two (said he), and on my world I wil grant any other.

Then said Leandrus; My suite to you is, that since I haue been a long, ear∣nest, and passionate suiter to your faire (but cruell) Cosin, & now hauing got the consent of her father, her mother, her brothers, and most of her friends, that you will likewise ioyne with them, and speake vnto Pamphilia for mee; I know she respects you much, and will be as soone directed by you, as by any friend she hath: wherefore I beseech you grant me this fauour, and by it tie me perpetually to your seruice.

The King replied, that it was true, they had all seene his affection to her; they confessed his worth and deserts to bee equall with any Prince, and to merit any wife, whose answering loue might meete his: but for his Cosin, she was of her selfe, and as farre as he could vnderstand by her, she purposed not to marry: if he had gaind the consent of her parents and brothers, hee had purchased the surest to preuaile with her: but for himselfe, although he confessed in that his happinesse, that shee did so much esteeme of him, and fouud that she would heare him as soone as any other; yet it was his misfor∣tune in this, that he could not doe him that seruice he desired to doe, to make manifest his loue vnto him, for he had now lighted on one of the excepted things, since but this last night (said he) speaking of marriage, shee said, shee was already bestowed vpon her people, and had married her selfe to them. I vrging her youth, and the pitie it would bee she should die, without leauing some pictures of her self, so excellent a piece. She said, her friends (she hop'd) would keepe her memory, and that should be enough for her. But I striuing further to perswade her to the altering of that determination; My Lord (said she) it is settled, and as you will euer make mee see you loue mee, and would haue me confident of your well-wishings to me, let mee begge this of you, that you will neuer speake to me of any husband. I swore it, and seal'd my vowes on her faire hand. Wherefore my Lord Leandrus, you see how I am bound, otherwise belieue it, I would not deny your noble request, but speake for you (I protest truly) as soone, or sooner then for any other liuing. The Prince Leandrus was contented with this answere, belieuing him, as iustly he might doe, for he had said but onely truth to him.

Then parted they, Leandrus giuing him many thankes for his noble free∣dome, going to Philistella, who with Selarina was passing the time, Pamphilia bringing Selarinus to them, and so pretily did discourse, while Steriamus ear∣nestly did pursue his affection to Vrania; which although she willingly enter∣tain'd, yet she meant to be as wary as she could (hauing been once deceiued), wherefore with much modesty and mildnesse, she denied; and yet with her sweetnesse in denying, gaue him hope and heart to proceed, which at that time they being together, he gaue witnesse of, hauing gaind the fauour of her standing alone with him in a window, protesting all the true and zealous af∣fection, that a man could beare vnto a woman. She told him, that these protestations hee had so often before vsed to Pamphilia, as hee was per∣fect in them; for (said shee, my brother hath told mee, and many other, what a power her loue had ouer you, though shee neuer receiued it, or did more, if so much as pitie you.

It is most true (said hee) that your brother found me a miserable piece of mankind, made anew by loue, to be lesse then any of my sex, and yet his grea∣test slaue: shee reiected mee; I now thanke Heauens for it, since I was kept for this happinesse, shee for a greater then my selfe, which I wish ••hee may enioy, and I bee blessed with your fauour; which as my onely bles∣sing I doe wish for, and aske as my onely blisse. But what let can my former loue bee to your receiuing mee? I am not the first that hath lost my Loue? What blame then can that bee to mee, my choice being so good? did not (I pray you) Parselius your Cosin, loue before he married Dalin••a? and Vrania (I thinke) liked, before shee was throwne from the Rock. Cast away then all former faults, and burie them in the Deepes, where those loues were cured, and take a perfect one, new borne vnto you, and with you.

Shee blushed, and told him, hee grew bitterer then louers vse to be. He smild, and told her, none that had a spot should find fault with anothers, vnlesse theirs were cleane washed away, and the other remaining. But I feare (said shee) you will not now bee true.

Nothing (said hee) but that water could haue cleansed my heart from that ranckling wound, nor now shall any thing al••er my truth to you. Another charme may cure you, said she? Neuer (said hee) nor helpe if not your loue. It grieues mee (said shee) that I cannot then present you with my first affection; yet truly may I in a kind; for I liked you before I loued the other. Giue mee this second (said hee), which as the first I will esteeme, and cherish it; for a new created one it is, and so shall liue in me, neuer more blessed then now, neuer truer shall any loue be to one: nor more iust then mine, said she.

Thus they giuing these prety assurances of eithers affections, he presented her with a Bracelet of Diamonds. She the next day requiting it with a much more pretious one to his thoughts, being a brede of her haire. No day passed that some sweet delightfull passages passed not betweene them. The Court now fild with loue, Parselius perceiued their loues, and was as well contented with it, as Vrania had been with his, and as freely did they before him shew it. Amphilanthus infinitely glad of it, and seeking all meanes for the conti∣nuance of it, so as each day Pamphilia's chamber swarmd with louers: Steria∣mus and Vrania, Selarinus and Philistella, Parselius and his wife, Philarchos and his Orilena, the Queene her selfe beholding them, while her heart was as true a patient, as any of theirs, but must not shew it. Leandrus with the rest had leaue to visit her, but to see his passions, to one that were sure neuer to be in such a snare, it were sport, else a terrible feare to fall into such a Laborinth. The Queen gratiously respected him, but when he spake of loue, she then was deafe, & euer found occasion to discourse of somthing els, or to some others. Amphilanthus graced Selarina most with his discourse, which made the whole Court iudge his affection was placed there, & in truth she did deserue it, for she was an excellent fine Princesse; but frō al these amorous delights the braue Prince must go, & betake himself to the field, and aduenture with Ollorandus; the next day was the time for their depart, and also for Pamphilia's going, who ouer night took her leaue of the court, not willing (as she said) to be seene so much a woman, as to weepe for parting. Yet Vrania was witnes of it, both

getting vp earely, and Amphilanthus, with Ollorandus comming to them be∣fore they were ready, stayed with them till they went downe, Vrania bring∣ing her to her Coach, with the other two Princes, when with teares they parted on some sides: Vrania wept to part with her deare brother, and cou∣sen. Pamphilia's heart was pierced with like sorrow, or greater, but stop'd her teares, as hauing a stronger spirit, till beholding the water in Amphi∣lanthus eyes ready to fall, and waite vpon the least summons her eyes would giue; she then let some few slide, and drop, and so saluted him, loue smi∣ling in their teares, to see so kind, and affectionate parting, glorying in his owne worke, as proud in such a conquest. Part they did, taking their leaue without saying, farewell, which their hearts and eyes did for them, making them then, and as long as they could, attend and behold each other, which was not long, for the waies being contrary, the sight was soone lost.

Pamphilia went alone, saue for her owne Traine of Knights, which were come out of Pamphilia, to attend her thither, and quickly, with the haste she made, arriu'd at the Sea, where shee shipped, and so passed to her King∣dome, where with infinite ioy, and troopes of people, shee was receiued, and conducted to her chiefe City of Perga; where shee remain'd in plenty of all things, but the delicate conuersation she vsed to haue in Morea, which want, made her for a while melancholly: but afterwards shee comforting her selfe, with hope, and resolution, shee came abroad, and followed those delights shee was wont to affect, which was, Hunting and Hawking, and such like.

The two braue Companions holding on their way, hating the land, chose the Sea, and tooke Shpp at Sornesse, and so passing by Zants, and Setalonia, went vp the Gulfe of Venice, and landed in Triale, from whence without any one aduenture, worthy the rehearsing, they came into the confines of Bohe∣mia, when they met two knights, of whom they demanded the newes of that place; they resolu'd them, that the King was dead, and that they (as many more) were going in search of their Prince, and Lord Ollorandus. Then did he discouer himselfe vnto them, which they infinitly reioyced at; so passing on, they came vnto a Castle, where they would (as they said) lodge that night, but the two Knights tolde them, that by no meanes they should doe so, for their dwelt the cruelest man that was in all those parts, his name Seuerus, and was next of the bloud to Ollorandus, wherefore by no meanes they would aduise him, (none being left but himselfe of the Stocke) to ad∣uenture into his doores.

The new King imagining this a disgrace vnto him, to let any such thing passe for feare, would not be perswaded, saying, Hee was assured that hee durst not attempt any thing vpon his person; but Amphilanthus disswaded what he could, yet all in vaine, for hee was resolu'd. When nothing could preuaile against staying him, yet they obtain'd of him, that he would hold himselfe vnknowne, hee repli'd they neede not call him Ollorandus, but he would neuer leaue that happy name of the Knight of the Forrest, with which he had pass'd through so many aduentures; thus rashly would he runn into danger, and which was worst, hazad the brauest Prince. To the Gate they came, and presently were bid welcome, with many seruants who atten∣ded on them, and tooke their Horses, some of them conducting them into

the Hall, where the old Duke Seuerus sat in a Chaire, with a little staffe in his hand, his thumbe on his staffe, and his mouth on his thumbe, which euer was his fashion, when his minde was set vpon any plots; Their comming in call'd his minde a little to him, and looking on them, seeing such rarenesse in their persons, and louelinesse in their countenances, imagined them to be of great quality, especially Amphilanthus, to whom he went, and welcom'd him with the rest, desiring to know who they were, that thus courteously had honour'd his house. Amphilanthus told him that he was an Italian, and hearing of his bounty, by some of the Country, made him take the boldnes to visit him, hoping by him, also to vnderstand the manners of that place, to which as yet, he was a meere stranger. The olde Duke told him, ••hat he had done him an especiall fauour in it, and that (wherein he could doe him cour∣tesies) he should finde him most ready, in requitall of this honour. Then he demanded who the others were, and their names.

Amphilanthus reply'd, that his friend, and himselfe, vpon a certaine vow to their Mistresses, till they saw them againe, were not to disclose their names, but were only known by the titles, of the Knight of Loue, which was him∣s••lfe; and the other, the Knight of the Forrest, and thus they had passed most parts of the world.

Whence came you last, I beseech you, said he? From Morea, said the Knight of Loue. And what newes there, I pray you, said the olde Duke? haue you not heard of Ollorandus our Prince, and now our King, by his fa∣thers, and brothers death? I heard of him, said Amphilanthus, for no eares can (vnlesse deafe) but haue notice of his valour, and excellent goodnesse, and much haue I desired to be honoured with his sight, accounting it one of my misfortunes, that I am not knowne to so famous a Prince. Hath his Acts (replied the Duke) made his name so well knowne? I am heartily glad of it, for now shall this Kingdome againe flourish, when it shall be gouerned by so braue a King. But what is become of him, I pray, that you hauing such a desire to see him, could not compasse it? Truely (said the Knight of Loue) I was going to finde him, but an accident vnlooked for, call'd me from Morea, and so much against my heart, as neuer any thing was more, when I could neither goe, into Albania, where they say, he must be shortly, nor stay where I most desired. With that ••ee sigh'd indeed, and so passionatly, as they all pittied him. Then the Duke deman∣ded who the others were. He answered, strangers they encountred vpon the way, but it seem'd good Knights; So the Duke tooke the Knight of Loue on his right hand, and the Forrest Knight on his left, desiring the o∣thers likewise to sit: so sitting downe altogether, Amphilanthus besought him to let him know in what estate the Country stood, for (said he) I desire to goe to the Court, and see it; but hearing the King is dead, I would most willingly be ordered by you, what I should doe. Truely (said he) Sir, I can direct you no better way, then to stay heere, till such time as we heare of our King, nothing to be seene, nor safety much in this Countrey; for an Ar∣my is prouiding, men raysing, and much businesse toward. By whom, I pray Sir, said the Knight of the Forrest, are these men rays'd? The chiefe yet, repli'd he, hath not declared himselfe, but there are foure Great men, that call these Troops together, yet none of them hauing right or claime:

it is thought they haue some other, who yet will not discouer himselfe. Who is the next in bloud, said he? Marry that am I, said he, being the last Kings Vnkle, Brother to his Father. Will not you Sir then be pleas'd, said hee to withstand these forces in the Kings right? Alas Sir, said he, you see I am old, no•• euer was I a Souldier, borne deformed as you see, not for Armes, but Carpets; these shoulders crooked, and mishapen, were not ordaind, but to be kept from eyes, which would rather bring contempt, then respect: my Stature low, my body weake, all fram'd to be a Chamber-keeper, rather then a Knight at Armes: but I haue a Son, who I hope, wil be worthy of his bloud. Where is he, I pray, said he? Truely, now I am not certaine, but I thinke he will be here this night, answered the Duke. These things netled Ollorandus, yet he couer'd his rage as well as he could; and thus they pass'd the time till Supper, when the old Duke desir••d them to goe to their lodge∣ings, and vnarme themselues, which they did, and returning, sate to meate. The Duke all Supper time, curiously beholding the Knights, especially Ollo∣randus, who, he imagined by his complexion, and the fauour of his face, to be the King, though it was long since he had seene him; but the ground he had in malice made him discerne that, which otherwise had laine hid∣den (enuy hauing sharpn••sse in discouering.) Thus the night grew on, and Supper ended, the Knights were brought to their seuerall lodgings.

Amphilanthus desired to lye with his friend, but the Duke, out of com∣plement, (as de••iring-they should see their welcome, by the respect done them) would not permit them to lodge, but alone: the other two were carried to an other Towre farre from them; they being in their Chambers, Ollorandus safe, as he thought from discouery, went to bedd taking his rest very soundly, his Dwarfe lying in the next roome to him. Amphilanthus, had not so much liberty, or freedome by rest granted to him, wherefore he went not to bedd, but walked vp and downe his Camber in his old posture, armes acrosse, and breathing in sighes, wishing his eyes might be once more blessed with seeing, what his soule euer beheld with feruent loue, that neuer deuiding it selfe no more then heate from fire: Passion growne such a commander ouer him, as he was an Imag•• of Loues torments, curiously carued to the life of passionate distresse. Measure some of his thoughts hee did, and delicately expresse his paine in Verse, but so dainty was he, as few, saue himselfe, (which was his Mistris) euer saw them, especially those which were for his parting, and those hee made that night. But his Muse had no more then finished that conceit, when she, and hee, were call'd to attendance, summon'd by a fearefull and terrible noise, mixt with voyces and armour, at last hee heard his friend say, O traytors, thus betraying a stranger, and Villaine to doe it in thine owne house; farewell deare friend, let misfortune wholly be, and end in me.

Those words, and the knowledge of the speaker, quickly make the King prepare for rescue, wherefore arming himselfe, he ran towards the Cham∣ber where Ollorandus lay, but by the way he saw him fetter'd, and leading to a Gate, where it might appeare, a Prison was. He quickely came to him, crying to those, who led him, to stay; they refused, but he, who fear'd not many more t••e•• they were, set vpon them; they deuided themselues, and some of them held him play, while the rest went away with the King, taking

the aduantage of his busie fighting: but his hands were not so imployd but his eyes also vsed their office: and so well did he consider the traitors, as he neuer let them be, but in his eyes, which made him soone perceiue this vil∣lany, and as readily preuent it; for they thinking to steale him away, were staied, and made in streames of bloud to deliuer their confession, and liues to his victory. The Dwarfe in this time had so roared about the Castle, as the o∣ther two Knights awaked, and came to the rescue (Amphilanthus throwing a Sword and Sheild of one of the vanquished to Ollorandus), and in time they came, for hee was then readie to bee slaine; the old Duke and his sonne comming together, and incouraging their seruants by promises, and commanded by threatnings to kill him; but those Armes protected him, and then furiouslie did he flie among them, the old monster reui∣ling his people for letting them escape death, till Amphilanthus got to him, and as he was opening his mouth to speake hatefully to them, he thrust his Sword into it, hindring those villanous words which hee had else de∣liuered. The other two also came, and saued the braue Prince from kil∣ling such a worme, dispatching that ill naturd man out of the way, of molesting any more good creatures. But his sonne reuenged his fathers death, killing the elder of those brothers, whose death Amphilanthus quick∣ly pay'd, with the young mans end, striking off his arme, whereof he died; then getting close to Ollorandus, they set backe to backe, and so fought, till they gaind the stepps which went vp to the Hall, and getting euen into it, they pressed to that doore; but some who continued fight with them, kept so neare, as they got betweene Ollorandus and the doore, so as Am∣philanthus hoping in the croud, his friend was come in, locked the doore, but shut Ollorandus out, where he was ingirdled with his enemies, and past hope; but the neuer daunted King espying his error, soone amended it, yet was he forced to leape out at the window, which was but low, to aide him, the dore opening outward, was held so close by the enemy, but when he was got a∣mong them againe, he was like a thunder-bolt, piercing and killing all resisted him, who but like poore feeble dogges, that snarld for their best defence could not bi••e him. Once more he rescued his friend from apparent death, and thus performed the prophecy Mellissea had made, with double ioy to saue him, and thus soone to be at liberty to returne to his heart, for he found that now he might be priuiledged to part. This businesse done, the old, and young Dukes kild, the two honest brothers slaine, hauing gaind the fame, to die, and be laid in the bed of honor, allotted such as die in their Kings sight and quar∣rell; they staid a while in the Castle, seeking for any such vnfortunate man, or creature, as had fallen into the cruel power of this man. Many they found, and among them some of their acquaintance, then setting them all at libertie, they departed towards Prage, the chiefe towne of Bohemia, attended by all those released prisoners; Ollorandus then openly discouering himselfe, troops of his subiects came daily in to him, and so within few daies he was crownd, sending some forces against those scatterd troopes were raised by the dead traytor and his confedera••••s to oppose the Kings quiet possession: who now setled, and all solemnities past, he sent his Dwarfe into Hungary with a letter to his loue. The Dwarfe knowing his Lords mind, as wel he might (i•• by no∣thing but that hast gesse it) performd his part, being feareles of al things now

but the Lord of Strombolly as he arriu'd in Hungary, and so by inquiry got to Buda: thence hee was directed to a Castle some ten leagues off in a Forrest, whither the Queene was gone to take her pleasure, the King staying at Buda: the Dwarfe being benighted, was glad to take his lodging in a poore house, and happy so to find one in a wild place, hauing lost his way.

The next morning hee had no sooner taken his horse, and rode halfe a league, but he met some Knights, and others riding with great speed, and ap∣parreld all in greene, demanding of him, if he met not the Stagge: hee told them, he met nothing except themselues, since he tooke horse. They passed on, and still he met more, who made the same inquirie. At last hee saw a La∣dy comming at full speed, attended on by many more, whose riding, and hor∣ses shewed, they could more willingly haue heard of the Staggs fall, then any other tidings. But this Dwarfe, witty, and carefull of his charge, imagining this Lady (by herselfe, more then her attendants, though many, and brauely clad) to be the Queene, hee stay'd, and of one who came within some two or three of her person, desired to know, if that were not Melisinda: hee answe∣red, it was: whereupon hee stay'd, and so iust in her way, as shee must stay too. She offended, began to correct him: but he kissing the letter, deliuerd it vnto her. Soone she knew the hand, and so commanded him to stay, and attend her answer.

Loue, now expresse thy selfe; is the hunting pleasing, the sport she most delighteth in, is it not now tedious and wearisome? was it feared but now the Stagge would fall too soone? Is it not now required, and wished for? Rude Beast (would shee say to her selfe) that knowes nothing but bruitish∣nesse, canst not thou finish thy dayes with my best wishes to thee, for fauo∣ring me? Faine she would see what was in it, and sometimes a little slacke her speede: but then fearing the company would know why her stay was, guiltinesse ouer-ruld her, and she went on, sometimes meaning to mend her seate, and so counterfeit cause of stay; then not liking that, againe in furie a∣gainst the beast, pursuing him.

Thus she rid, and traueld her thoughts irresolutely, till iust before her, as if to claime a pardon for the former offence, hee fell, yeelding himselfe, and life into her power. Quickly shee alighted, and performing those Rights required by the Huntsmen, in honour of Victorie and Funerall, shee walked into a little Groaue, while her horse was stirring vp and downe, being hot and sore ridden.

When shee was there, shee kissed the letter, then opened it; but ha∣uing read it, kissed it often. O deare Paper (said shee), welcome as hea∣uenly blessings to mee: thou bringest mee word my Ollorandus liues; and more that hee thinkes of his poore Melysinda: liue still dearest loue, and let honour glorie in honouring thee. Happie newes to heare my Deere is a King, but most happie that hee crownes himselfe with con∣stancy, the perfect lawrell for louers. Doest thou (most loued) re∣member wretched mee? Nay, make mee see thy mindfulnesse by wri∣ting to mee, and such sweete lines, where expressions rather want then loue; and yet such louing expressions, testifying nothing but absence makes the want. Blessed bee my Destenie, that brought me thus to hunt,

mine eyes thrice happy that haue seene these words written by the best of men, and yet sigh'd she, when al is done the fire must consume you, that is the cabinet must hold your truths, and you most loued, must to my belo∣ued and mee, prooue a sweet sacrifice for our safeties. O iealousie that spreads it selfe so farre, as onely memory can bee safe, but no reliques saue ashes remaine safe in keeping; thy ashes yet shalbe preseru'd, and as most sa∣cred, still continued. Then came shee forth, and so returnd vnto the Castle, many examining the Dwarfe from whence he came, what hee would haue, and to whom he came, or whether he would goe. Hee had his errant well, and told them he was a wandering youth, once seruant to a knight, who now imprisond, he was free, but from ioy bard for the losse of him he lou'd. Ma∣ny desired to haue him, but he refused all, saying, he would now returne into his owne Countrie, and there end his daies, if so his Master could not bee set free.

Thus hee put them all off, till a day past he was dispatched by the Queene, whose letter was no sooner ended, but with teares with the same light shee sealed hers, she also gaue the death to the other, or rather the safer life, sacri∣ficing it vnto their loues, carefully putting the ashes vp in a daintie Cabinet, and inclosing them within; these Verses she then made, witnessing the sorrow for the burning, and the vowes she made to them burned.

YOu pure and hol•• fire Which kindly now will not aspire To hot performance of your Nature, turne Crosse to your selfe and neuer burne These Reliques of a blessed hand, Ioynd with mutuall holy band Of loue and deare desire.

Blame me not dearest lines, That with loues flames your blacknesse twines, My heart more mourning doth for you expresse, But grief•• for sorrow is no lesse. Deepest groanes can couer, not change woe, Hearts the tombe, keepes in ••••e showe, Whic•• worth from ill refines.

Alas yet as you burne, My pitie smarts, and groanes to turne Your paines away, and yet you must consume Content in me, must beare no plume, Dust-like Dispaire may with me liue, Yet shall your memory out-driue These paines wherein I mourne.

You reliques of pure loue To sacred keepe with me remooue, Purg'd by this fire from harme, and iealous feare, To liue with me both chast and cleare: The true preserueresse of pure truths, Who to your graue giues a youth In faith to liue and mooue.

Famous body's still in flames, Did anciently preserue their names, Vnto this funerall nobly you are come, Honour giuing you this tombe. Teares and my loue performe your rights, To which constancie beares lights To burne, and keepe from blame.

This did not satisfie her, grieuing for the losse of those kind lines, but each day did shee say the Letter to her selfe, which so much shee loued, as shee had learned by heart; then looking on the Ashes, wept, and kissing them, put them vp againe; and thus continued shee, till Ol∣lorandus himselfe came, to whom these daylie offerings were made; for hee, after hee had settled his Kingdome, longing as much to see her, as shee desired his presence, put the Gouernment to the charge of a pre∣sident, and his Counsell, assuring them, that nothing should haue so soone parted him from them, but that hee must now performe his part of friendship to Amphilanthus, which was required of him, who had so louingly, and brauely accomplished his.

None were against that, all honouring and louing him so much, as hee had much adoe, but with kind quarrels to leaue the Countrie, with∣out some of them to attend him; yet by his milde perswasions, and the new Kings commanding power, they two tooke their iourney, the Dwarfe againe returning the very day before they left Prage.

Towards Hungarie they then haste, passing through Morauia, where they met a strange encounter, and a sad spectacle, which was a compa∣ny of men all on foote, being apparrel'd in long mourning Gownes; and after them a Chariot, beeing drawne by sixe Horses, they beeing couered with blacke; and in the Chariot was a bodie, beeing couer'd with a blacke Veluet couering; and at the feet of this Body sate a La∣die, her face beeing towards it, and most pitifullie weeping; many more in mourning likewise walking by the Chariot, round about it, and be∣hind it.

This lamentable and dolefull spectacle mooued the hearts of the Knightes, who beeing verie passionate, quickly felt pitie, and riding pre∣sently to one of the followers, desiring to bee resolu'd of this matter;

the Gentleman courteously answered, that the businesse was of so long a times discourse, as would demaund more leysure, then hee thought their businesse would well allow them; therefore hee besought to bee excu∣sed, vnlesse they meant to succour that distressed Lady, who most iustly might claime assistance, and reuenge, for a murdered Knight, vniustlie, and treacherouslie slaine for loue. Loue their Master commanded their seruice, so as they said, they would willingly doe their best, to redresse such an iniurie.

Then the Gentleman going to the Lady, told her what the Knights said; she casting vp her eyes, which before she held on the Coarse, the body and soule of her affections.

Alas Sirs (said shee) what misfortune hath brought you to ingage your selues to true misery, as in ioyning with me you must do, for a more wretch∣ed neuer liued to die so.

Our fortunes (said Ollorandus, speaking in her owne language) is the best we could couet, if they may prooue auaileable to you, nor doe we desire any more, then to know how we may serue you.

Then Sir (said shee) let mee bee so bold, as to demaund first, who you are, that I may discouer my estate the more freely, and willingly to you.

My name (said hee) is Ollorandus, King of Bohemia; and this is Amphilanthus, King of the Romans.

Happinesse beyond all hope (cry'd shee). Alas my Lord, this is the King that of all the World I haue desired to meete, and now trauell to seeke in Italy: then kneeled shee vnto him, beseeching him to graunt her, what hee had of himselfe so nobly promised.

Hee vowed to performe any thing whatsoeuer that lay in his power to doe: then comming forth of the Chariot, and they lighting, they re∣tired into a little tuft of Thornes by the way side, shee beginning her storie thus.

Most braue and renowned of Kings, and you great King, bee plea∣sed to giue eare to the saddest storie, that euer loue, and louers end hath produced.

I am that miserable vnfortunate woman Sydelia, passionately louing, and being beloued of the excellent and ve••tuous Antonarus; long wee loued, but a hate betweene my brother, called Terichillus, and my loue growne in their youth, hindred our enioyings; my brother so curiouslie watching mee, himselfe, or others, neuer or seldome from mee, as I was able onely to see my afflictions and wants, but not the Sunne of my content: for my Brother being the Heire of Morauia, and the other the Prince of Silesia, that kept him from venturing into his Countrie, knowing the infinite malice hee bare vnto him, alas, no way deseruing it.

But at last, my brother was to marry Orguelea daughter to the Duke of Ba∣uaria, and going thither to performe it, left mee guarded by his seruants, whom in his absence so well I wrought with, as I compassed the sight of my Deare, who in the habit of a Hunts-man came vnto me; we married priuatly, and so enioyed the time till my brothers returne with his new Ladie, as

full of spite, and ill nature, as a Spider with poyson: to her he had disclosed this matter, with his hate to Antonarus, and to her gaue the charge of mee, my Father hauing before giuen ouer the world, and was retyred into a reli∣gious house, hauing left me, and all his estate to my brother, yet during his life, my brother would not take the title vpon him, but the authority of the County of Morauia. Now was my Hunts man to returne, small safetie being where such hatefull spies inhabited, no more surety then a poore hare hath in the hands of the hounds, who haue long hunted to prey vpon it: so did they seeke to ruine vs, the extreame hate my brother bare to Antonarus, rising from this cause.

When they were youthes, and both in the Emperous Court, there liu'd at that time, a young Lady of the house of Austria, ••xcellently faire, and as fairely condition'd, whose vertues were such, as most prizing worth, for Ver∣tues sake, she made choice wholy of worthin••sse in conuersation, choice of companions, and the whole course of her life ranne that way, which made her chooce Antonarus, and so much to affect him, as nothing but death, could be ender of her affection, and yet I know not how I can say so, since dying, shee express'd her affection to him she loued, and no question but his goodnesse requited it in his wishes to serue her; but friendship wrought so in him, as he would not seeme to receiue it, my brother being so passi∣onately in loue with her, as Antonarus saw, if he accepted her loue, he must with that, kill his friend, rather then to doe so foule an act, hee would seeme cruel, and wrong, and harme himselfe, sooner then hurt him: yet oft hath he told me, that he hath from his soule, wish'd my brother had neuer disco∣uer'd his affection to him, for then ignorantly hee might haue made him∣selfe happy in her, whose happinesse onely consisted in him, and yet was de∣nied, b••cause he loued his companion. O friendship, excellent vertue to be embraced, and cheerished, yet herein would such friendship had not beene. Still did Terichillus tell Antonarus how he lou'd, and how he saw she sligh∣ted him, and yet cri'd he, she loues; would I were the Dogge she so kind∣ly treats, and playes with all, or that little bird, which she still kisses, and car∣ries in her breast, or any thing saue wretched me my selfe, so loath'd, and ha∣ted by her. Then did he comfort him, telling him, patience and constancy might solicit for him, and his still presenting himselfe in her eyes, might win, if any thing could preuaile by loue. At last my brother plainely discerned the loue she bare to Antonarus, then he grew furious, and for all these former passages mistrusted this firme friend; hee finding it, and no way to kill this Cancor, tooke leaue of the Court, and my brother, at his parting telling him, that whatsoeuer he imagined of him, he should finde him true to him. To the Lady he went not, but priuately in the morning he stole away, and pass'd many Countries with much honor, but now comes the wofull part of this Story.

She seeing him gone, and Terichillus stay, quickly guess'd the matter: then grew rage in her, and whereas, before she would vse him ciuilly, for Antonarus sake, now she plainely shew'd the hate, she bare him, who she be∣leeud to be the cause of his going; that beliefe told her she must not suffer such an iniury, that iniury being aboue all, where loue was by it barr'd: his sight grew odious to her, when she remembred that with him Antona∣rus

vs'd to come, now she saw nothing but the foule Coppy of an excellent worke, his presence, made her see the absence of her sole content, as the bare shelfes do of the ebbed Tyde: and as bare without liking did he seeme: yet could she not beware of the flowing ill, which followed by his spite, nor did shee striue to shunne any thing but his presence, he infinitly louing; she terribly hating, let her passion grow to such violence, as it grew infecti∣ous, and he that but now sought, still continued in search, but of what? Not of loue, but meanes to be•• reuenged of her, whose loue he could not com∣passe, but whose ouerthrowe he meant to gaine. Eyes which lately seru'd to bring his comfort to him, in seeing her, are employd to be curious spies ouer her affections: howres spent wholly in examining her worth, and vertues, chang'd to plott her ruine; admiration of her goodnesse, to ad∣miring, why hee could affect such a body of disdaine; alteration so be∣yond expectation, as vnderstanding when this happened, was to seeke, yet did he dissemble still, and made loue (the honour of noble hearts) the co∣lour for his wickednesse, making his malice spring and ouergrow his loue, as Nettles doe Violets, or Hemlock Pincks: yet did his counterfeit affection grow with it.

At last, he wrought so cunningly, as hee intercepted a Letter which shee sent to Antonarus, which hauing opened, and read, he made the answer, counterfeiting his hand so well, as none could discouer it, or know it to bee other then his; the messenger he made safe for telling tales, making bloud accompany his Treason. Thus he continued, heaping more ills vpon his soule, then shels in number are vpon the Sea-shore; alas that he were not my brother, since I must thus speake of him, or rather I would his last act, had not made me the vnwilling, and vnfit relater of his ill. The poore Lady, still louing him, writ, and with all the zealous affection shee could, perswaded his returne, with whom she would goe and bring him to the famous Duke her father, where all honour should be done him. He still answerd with de••layes, at last, (or indeed, his vnappointed Secratatary) made this answere, that good manners had made him thus long answer respectiuely, but since he found, that nothing but his company, and marriage would satisfie her, shee must be contented to be plainly told, that he despised her forwardnesse, and as much her selfe, his heart being set already on one, farre more deseruing then her selfe, who deserued nothing of him, to alter his former affection, nor could merit any thing of the world, if not by marrying Terichillus, who affectionatly loued her, and thus she might honor her self in requiting him, and that if she desired to haue so much as a good thought from him, shee must performe this, or else to bee assured of a mortall hater of her selfe, and house.

She (alas) whose heart loue had made tender, and tendernesse, pitifull; could not but so much pitie it selfe, as to breake with this vnkindnesse; yet died shee not speedily, but which was worst (yet in a kind, happy for her) her woman wrought such meanes, as a brother of hers found Antonarus, to whom he discouered the pitifull estate of the Lady, and what complaints she indured the absence, and cruelty of him, who sought to murder her, for faith∣fully louing him. This discourse made him resolue to see her, and if it might be, to saue her, dying, or shame of it working more in him, then liuing loue

could purchase; so as he went to the Court, where he found her ready to de∣part, yet not past sense, but that shee knew him; or rather hauing only sense of loue, tooke quick apprehension, so as she looked vp, and spake chearefully to him, desiring all else to auoid the chamber, when that was done, she took him by the hand, and weeping, thus spake.

Antonarus what fault haue I committed, that hath brought this cruelty from thee? If extreame, and loyall affection can offend, then haue I infi∣nitely offended? But alas, blame your selfe, your vertues made me choose you, your winning eies, made me your subiect; your worth, commanded my fidelity; you onely I loud, and you onely murder me with vnkindnesse; yet pardon me that I speake thus boldly, since I feare my former boldnesse made you despise me. Chide Loue, alas, it was he offended, and I did but by directions, write those Letters so reiected, and despised by you. He hearing her speake thus, and touch vpon Letters, desired to be resolu'd of that; she admiring at his seeming ignorant of that, yet loath, euen at the last to seeme harsh to him, told him of his curst answere, and to satisfie him, shew'd him the Letters themselues, with the Copies of hers, which (said shee) I had burnt, had you not come as you did. When he saw them, no man could ma∣nifest more furious sorrow, for he could not speake, but wept, and sob'd, toare his haire, and remained like a distracted creature, till she vrging him, and he desiring to satisfie her, swore they were none of his, nor that euer he receiued any from her; O miserable man said he, thus to be betrayd, what haue I done to be thus plagued, and insufferably afflicted? Alas, my deerest, I neuer heard from thee, neuer writ to thee, but if I had, sweetnes, and loue, should haue beene the subiect, and not this.

False Terichillus, this I feare, comes from thee, for this is thy hand, I know it is the same in iest, that thou wert wont to counterfeit, and hast thou practisd it for this? vnkind, and cruell man. Shee seeing his sorrow and his clearenesse, receiued much comfort, and taking him againe by the hand, happy am I, my Lord, (said shee) that shall now ende contented, blessed in your loue, and cleare from the end, I fear'd, you had sent me; be happy my onely deare, and liue with all content, let that Lady, whosoeuer you shall choose, loue you no lesse then I doe; let her be as iust, and loyall, but so much more fortunate, for your sake, as to liue to enioy you longer. Had you beene cruell, as you were accused falsely, my loue had pardoned it, and welcommer had my death beene to me (sent by you) then life, if in dislike of you. My soule lou'd you, and loues you, nor euer suffer'd it shewe of dislike against you, I had cleerly passed into the other world without blame∣ing you: yet am I happy to see you, and your truth before I part. I must leaue you, my onely loue I must goe, and yet this I will beseech you to keep of me the memory of your truest loue, and let that memory bee put with loue, and not moou'd with rage to reuenge these wrongs; he hath done you a fauour it may be, in keeping you for a worthyer, but neuer can you haue a truer. He weeping told her, he tooke that last ill, that shee would say, hee could haue a worthier. O no, said he, that cannot be, thy worth cannot be equal'd, no more then my wrongs reueng'd sufficiently. They both wept, then spake a little, and so tooke their leaues, shee seeing his sorrow, was af∣flicted for it, he finding it, sought to couer it, so he kissed her, and went out

of the chāber, with as dying a heart as she had almost, no sooner was he gone, but she calling her womā to her, willed her to burne those papers, thē taking •• ring from off her finger (which was a pointed Diamōd she euer wore, & had vowed to doe so, till she died or married) charged her to giue it Antonarus, then turning her to the other side, tell him (said she) I bequeath this my truest loue, and last loue to him, & so I coniure him to keepe these. She went to per∣forme her command, he instantly with the rest of the company came in, but there they found her dead. It was (alas) too late to recouer her, but not to giue a more happy end: how hee tooke it, onely such a loue can expresse, which began but when she was dying, and enioyed but in death. He instant∣ly left the Court and hearing Terichillus, had stollen away vpon his comming, guiltinesse condemning him, he went in search of him, putting on an armour, as blacke as his sorrowes: & so he trauelled, cloathed in sorrow, accompanied with remembrance of her chast and loyall loue, her death, the treason that caused it, the iniury done him, yet her spotlesse affection. All these were motiues, the more he ran from one to the other still the first held him, and wrapt him fast in all.

Thus he went, caught in himselfe, till hee met Terichillus in a plaine be∣tweene two hills to whom he sent his Squire, who was all his company, not to discourse with him, but to call him to answere the wrongs done to him and his loue; when the Squire came to him, hee made no answer but this, he had cause to call him to account, and he would satisfie him, so he prepared himselfe, and they met, where they fought a cruell fight; but Antonarus ha∣uing iustice on his side, got so much the better; as hee had Terichillus vnder him, and at his mercy, which when he had confest, asked pardon of him for his fault, he tooke him vp with these words; Rise Terichillus, thy shame and conscience are sufficient reuengers, I will not shed thy bloud, which cannot cleanse so foule a fault, or satisfie for losse of her so chaste and immaculate; make it more cleare, and purer if thou canst with true repentance, while mine eyes, and heart drops, fulfill and serue for her funerall.

Then leap'd he vpon his horse leauing my brother hurt, and wounded, more with scorne, and hate of himselfe so to be saued, then kindly thank∣ing him that had done it. Away Antonarus posted, and came into Morauia, to visit me, who indeed was onely his seruant, Infant Loue on my side haue∣ing made me so; he stayd not long but told me all this story, for which I lou'd him better then before, gratefulnesse hauing large command ouer my hart. Hee neuer by my words had knowledge of my loue to him, till two yeares after passing by that way, and priuately desiring to see me, (vnfortu∣nately for vs both) I did confesse it, hee embraced it, and so wee lou'd, my brother still continuing his hate, but in my Fathers time of life, did make no publique shew of it.

Vpon the death of him he tooke the title, and first began with open pro∣clamations of his hate, and the first forbidding me his company, yet where were these proclaimd, but in his house, and to his priuate friends? yet I went further, and did warne my loue of him; this was the cause hee came not in his sight, nor to his knowledge: and in hunts-mans habit was the last time I did see him; for my brother returned with his wife, the watches were made new, and stronger ouer me, yet loue made them fruitles,

for on a time appointed we met, and meant to keepe together; then boldly I writ to my brother, telling him what I had done, and that I hoped he would excuse me, since I had taken him for my husband, whom loue and youth had chosen for mee, and now was gone with him, whom most I loued to liue with, and whom I now was happily to obay. My brother grew infinitely in∣raged with this, and straight sent out many horses to stay, and interrupt our passage; but in vaine, for we were passed, and had laid such spies for them, as kept vs free. Into Selesia we came, finding, and bringing with me all content, in hauing my owne hearts desire with me. Antonarus welcommed me with gift of all his estate; I returned that to him againe, taking a farre greater (as I esteemd it) which was himselfe and his true loue, my best and only fortune. Terichillus this while imagined himself highly iniured, wherefore he sent An∣tonarus word, that so ill he tooke this affront, as he would with armes regaine his honour touched. He replied, that he had rather in his opinion, done him honor to match with him, nor did he do it for other cause then his affection, which begun in our youths, had growne to this perfection; therefore he in∣treated him rather with loue, then Armes to end the businesse; if not, hee would prepare to attend his comming, as hee pleased. Within some few moneths, Terichillus with an army entred Selesia, but onely enterd it, when an army led by Polisander brother to Antonarus, met him, giuing him bat••aile, and life also, for he in an encounter might haue killed him, but mercy more then iudgement gouernd him, so as he spared him, on condition the warres should cease, which he promised, and a firme league should be made between vs, which Polisander should haue the glory of.

Thus agreed, hee came with him where wee were; Armes dismist, and swords laid downe, he was nobly entertaind, and receiued by Antonarus, who ment truth; and after some dayes were passed, an oath of friendship was taken of both sides. Then Terichillus returnd into his Country of Morauia, Polisander bringing him to the confines thereof, there committing him to his owne safetie. Antonarus was glad of this conclusion, because it ioyed me, and I for his quiet did reioyce. One whole yeare this lasted, in which time we had a sonne, after whose birth, and my recouery againe, Terichillus inui∣ted vs vnto his Court with all loue (or better to say, show of it) we belieuing, went thither, trusting, as not meaning to bee false. Into Polisanders hands my Lord put the gouernment of the State, and also to him gaue the charge of his sonne; and well might he doe it, for a more noble honest man liues not, then he is. Into Morauia we went, met we were in the confines by noble men and Ladies, and still by more, and greater, till wee arriued at the Court, where at the gate my brother and his wife met vs; no state, nor welcome wanted, which outward testimony could expresse, nor doubted we; but like the silly birds, who hearing the sweet singing of other birds set for stales, thinking by that mirth they had no imprisonment, fall by innocent beliefe into the nets: so did we, seeing smiles, and hearing nothing but welcome and ioy speake, grew confident and bold vpon our harmes. Some daies wee staid there, Feasts, Tiltings, and all brauerie that the Court could yeeld, shewed it selfe vnto vs.

After those sports were past, Terichillus would haue vs goe a hunting, which we did, for two daies hauing excellent good, & great variety of sport;

the third day we also were to goe and conclude our delights, which indeede wee did: for in a great Wood (and the same where my Antonarus was accustomed, when hee was a Huntsman to bide in, and from whence I heard his Horne, which was the signe of his being there, and of call for me to him) this vnnaturall man Terichillus (for longer I cannot call him brother) had laid traytors in ambush, with command to execute his will, he in the meane time telling vs, that a mighty Stagge was within, harbored of purpose for vs. Then carried he vs into the thickest of it, placing the traine on the out-side, farre enough from helpe or hinderance; with him wee went to rouse the Deere, and so we did the too costly beasts that murdered my content, for then they shewd themselues, suddenly rushing on Antonarus, who had onely a little hunting sword by his side, with which he killed one, but they many soone possest themselues of his sword and him. Then Terichillus reuiled, and scoffed at him and me, telling vs, that here was a youth, had wont to walke those Woods, and call a Nimph vnto him by his Horne: but Satyrs found their wantonnesse, and so had vowed reuenge, and thus doe we said he. Then those men, who were disguised in that shape (and the fittest for so sauage an act) murdered him, making mee behold the cruelty for the greater torture. When all was done (which ended with his life) they went away, lifting the body only vp vpon a horse, and setting me vpon mine owne againe, gaue me the bridle of the other to leade with me, as the substance and demonstration of my miserie. Out of the Wood I went with this pitifull, and yet my belo∣ued companion; excessiue sorrow had so shut vp my senses, as I wept not at the instant, nor till I was to tell the Tragedy, which was presently after my comming into the Plaine, meeting some of the Selesians, who accompanied me in mourning, little else we could doe, for in the County, where the mur∣derer ruled (and alas our company a handfull, in comparison of his people), what could we doe but weepe and wish? Then got we our small troope to∣gether, and with as much hafte, as our heauinesse could allow vs, wee gained the Country of Selesia; to Polisander we related this villany, whose sorrow and sadnesse was such, as hee was not able to giue or take counsell, sometimes hee did purpose to r••uenge this treachery himselfe, cursing himselfe for sparing the murderer, when he might haue killed him, blaming his Fortune that let him liue to slay his brother: lamenting the time he made the reconsiliation, accusing himselfe as much as Terichillus, for hauing been the vnfortunate in∣strument of this mischiefe. Alas (said de) how happy had Selesia been, if I had been slaine in the battaile, and how more blessed I, that had not liued to see this day: deare Antonarus, hath thy brother, beloued so much of thee, been cause of thy losse? accursed creature that I am, yet pardon mee deare brother, I lament thy death as much as heart can doe: Selesia, yours is the losse vnrecouerable in loosing such a Prince, punish me then, I am ready: and dearest Sister (cry'd he) take this life from mee, how can you see mee, who brought your worthy Lord into this misfortune? O Antonarus my soule dies for thee.

His infinite griefe was such, as most were forced to watch him, lest he made himselfe away; yet such was, and is his vertue, as I hope will protect him from vsing violence on himselfe. Much adoe we had to perswade him from going into Morauia, to reuenge his brother: but at last I gained thus

much of him, to leaue the reueng to me••, whose lo••se was greatest, and cause demaunds most pitty, to gaine some braue Prince to right me; vpon coun∣sell, and my petition he granted it, whereupon I put on these robes, he pro∣uiding this Chariot, and all other things necessary for our iourney, appoynt∣ing the mourning in this kind. The same day that I tooke my iourney, hee proclaimed my sonne, heire and Prince of Selesia, himselfe protector, and so haue I traueled now two months, Terichillus giuing me leaue to passe through this part of his Country, to goe to finde a Knight, whose vallour, and pitty will assist me. To find you most braue and excellent King, I tooke my way, with hope to beg such a fauor of you, whose compassion and worth all toungs speake of, and harts admire; none but magnifying Amphilanthus, for true noblenesse, excellent goodnes, perfect vertue, and matchlesse valour; Wherfore I beseech you, as you may be, or are a louer, in that regard, aide me, as a King, asist me against a murderer of a Prince, and as the best of Knights, against such treachery. The cause is strange, and the businesse, it may be, will to some seeme nice, since a sister vrgeth reuenge of a brother; but weigh with all, that my loue, and husband is murder'd, and by my bro∣ther's owne hands, that will wipe away all doubts, and cleere me to implore your aid. The King, and Amphilanthus much pittied, and admired the Lady, who had related this story, with as much passion, and fine expres∣sion of witty sorrow as could be; Amphilanthus moued so much with it, as he presently consented, and gaue his promise to asist her: so they pass'd to the Court in the same manner as she before had trauel'd, for she had vowed, neuer to leaue the body, nor to bury it, till she had his death reueng'd. When they came where Terichillus was, she sent vnto him, to let him know shee had brought a Knight to defend her wrong, and to call him to account for his Treason, hee made his wonted slight answers: but the Lift, and all things were prepared; then entred the Lady with the body, and the two Knights accompanied with the mourners; the Princesse of Morauia, because her husband was one, would not be present, the other Ladyes were plac'd to see the fight. Then was it proclaymed, that if the Knight were ouercome, hee should loose his head, and the Lady should be at Terichillus disposing, if the Knight ouercame, then the Prince, if vanquished and aliue, should be dispo∣sed of by the Lady, and the Knights, with all the troope, should haue safe passage, without stay, or disturbance in returne.

Thus all agreed on, the Trumpets sounded; Terichillus furious, and ambi∣tious of victory and peace, encountred Amphilanthus with such strength, as he made him bow backwards on his horse, but the King strooke him flat on his backe vpon the ground, hauing meanes by this, to aske pardon from hea∣uen for his offence: but he least thinking of so good a matter, quickly got vp, and with his Sword in his hand, did attend Amphilanthus, whose noble cur∣te••ie was such, as not to take aduantage of him, lighted also to fight on foote. Terichillus was valiant, strong, and now to fight for life, and honour, so as hee held Amphilanthus longer play, then many had done; yet at last he acknow∣ledged with all others, the King to be fittest to be yeelded vnto, and so per∣ceiuing his life at an end, curstly set his sword on the ground, and brake it, de∣sirous as it seemd to die vnarmd, rather then disarmd by Amphilanthus; which was to no purpose, he making him openly make confession of his fault; ask par∣don,

direct, that al should obay his sister as their Lady and Princesse; weep and lament his fortune without compulsion, and according to his ill life, hee fro∣wardly and peeuishly concluded his daies, leauing behind him this certain∣tie, that such treasons are neuer any more left vnpunished, then Countries without Princes: for straight was his Sister proclaimed, and he as soone for∣got, as she speedily receiued.

The King of Bohemia, and the King of the Romans were carried into rich chambers, but they since the last busines in the Castle, would neuer lie alone, so as they were lodged together, and as soone as Amphilanthus was recouerd of some slight wounds, he receiued in this combat, they took their leaues, fol∣lowing on their iourney for Hungary. But as they were euen ready to leaue Morauia (hard by a Wood, which grew from the bottom of a hill to the top, the hill steepy, craggy, and ful of rocks, and places where stones had been cut for building of a stately Abby, which was among meadowes, not farre from the foote of this hill, betweene two dainty riuers, but then decaied by warre) they met a Lady running, her haire loose, couering her face, her cries loud and fearefull, her cloathes halfe on, and halfe off, a strange disorder in her words, she spake as if danger pursued, and helpe requisitly demanded; a little from her were some men, who hastily followed her, one especially from whom it seemd, she sought to be deliuered. Amphilanthus willing to aide, and she seeming to beseech it, rid to her, to demand the cause; she fled, he pursued till they came to the bottom of a great quarry, there in some thicknesse she of∣ferd to couer her self; but he lighting, desired to know the cause of her flight and danger. She, as if her enemy had been at hand, amazedly, and frightfully answered; Alas Sir? what meane you? what iniury haue I done you, that you should thus follow me? I neuer wrongd you, why seeke you my dishonour? He reply'd, that she was deceiu'd, and therefore intreated her to looke vp a∣gaine vpon him, & she would see her error. Then beholding him wishly, as if she had been till then in the wrong; Pardon me my Lord (said she) for I mis∣tooke you, my misery being such, as hath quite destracted me, I am a poore Lady dwelling here, not farre hence, in yonder old Abbey, Lady thereof by the death of my Husband, since which time a young Lord hath been an ear∣nest suter to me; but my loue and fortune dying with my husband, or but li∣uing to his memory, I refused him, as many other that haue sought me, wher∣upon he vowed to haue me by force, since no other meanes would preuaile, and this day to performe his vow; he came, found me but slightly guarded, and newly out of my bed, tooke me out of my house, bound my seruants, and thus farre on the way hath brought me: but when I saw this thicke Wood, and being acquainted with the hidnest parts of it, I slipt from behind his ser∣uant that carried mee, and with all speed possible ran (as I thinke you must needs see me) towards this wildernes, here I hope I am secure, and shall as∣sure my selfe of it, if it might please you, to take me into your protection. He curteous beyond expression, promised to defend her. I pray Sir (said she) let me yet ask some things more of you, which are, what your name is, and how long you haue been in this Country? My name (said he) is Amphilanthus, my being here, hath bin some time, being brought hither by the Princesse Syde∣lia. Let me be so bold, I beseech you, to demand one fauour more, which is, Whether you were one of those two that came with her, to reuenge he•• quarrell? I am indeed (said hee), and the same who fought with Terichillus.

Then am I blessed, said she, for I may assure my selfe of the valiantest man aliue.

While they were thus discoursing, an other Lady, with as fearfull cries, & shricks passed by, running from the Wood-ward, with such haste, as her feare had made her so light, as shee left no print, so much as pressing the grasse whereon she ranne, the impression it seem'd being in her, and no weight but switnesse allowed her feet. Ollorandus followed her, shee fledd still, till shee had lead him a good distance from his freind. Oh Ollorandus, what misfor∣tune now befalleth thee? What Witchcraft made thee forget thy vowe, and Melissea's command? Thy friend was carefuller of thee, and with more constancy accomplish'd thy desire, how hast thou abandon'd him in greatest neede? For he sitting by the Lady, as she had done speaking, out of the deepe part of the Quarry came many armed men, and all set vpon the King. He thinking they had beene her enemies, defended himselfe, and willed her to take heede, take that counsell thy selfe, cride shee, thou hate∣full murderer of my Husband, and dye for killing Terichillus. Then he found he was betrai'd, wherefore taking the best courage he could, (and that was the best of the world) he resolutely withstood their fury; but at last their company still increasing, and his wounds, and weakenesse growing with them, the place besides ill to fight in, being vneuen, full of bushes, and all disaduantages that might be to him, he was brought into infinite danger, and so much, as giuing himselfe lost, he recommended his last loue, and best wi∣shes to his deere selfe, and so resolu'd, brauely meant to end.

But what did Ollorandus all this while? He was held with discourse by a like deceiuer, as his friend had mett, till he heard the noyse of the Dwarfes, who calld him to that place with fearefull, and lamentable cries; where he found Amphilanthus, now ready to fall among the bodies of those he had slaine, as if he had kild them, to lye the hansommer on their bodies, in that ill fauored place, and to haue an easier bed in death. When he saw this sadd sight, how did he curse himselfe? Then remembred he what he had been warn'd to doe, then sawe he the fault committed in beleefe, and their trea∣cherie; all these togeather made such a full consent of fury, as hee flew a∣mongst them with blowes, like shame for villany, heauy, and thicke, and such good did he, as what with his valour, and the new courage his pre∣sence brought Amphilanthus, his weake lin••s, they gaue a little respite to him, who sate downe within the clift of the Quarry; but then an other mischiefe followed, for that diuellish causer of all this, beholding him, and hauing the power as she thought to hurt him, shee rolled a stone (which was loose, of great weight, and bignesse, staying but vpon the edge of a clift) downe vp∣on him, which gaue him (though falling not directly, vpon him, but a little part vpon his shoulder) such a cruell stroak, especially to his weakenesse; as he fell with it on his face. Ollorandus seeing it, verily thought hee had beene dead, whereupon he cried out; damn'd Countrey, that must be the death of that, which all the world enuied Italy for, the blessing of nursing braue Am∣philanthus, farewell, and farewell all worth with thee. Then did his fury encrease, and to that height, as but two being left of all the number, the Ne∣apolitan Prince hauing brought them from many, to almost none, yet fewe; too many then for him sore wounded, he dispatched the rest, one onely sur∣uiuing

who much molested him, & soarely handled him, going as he thought to take vp that vnmatched King, he saw him stirre, and rise: With greater ioy he then ranne to him, who embraced him, and welcomd him as the sauer of his life; but the other craued pardon of him euen vpon his knees, acknow∣ledging his vnpardonable fault. Amphilanthus quickly forgaue him, and seeing the one suruiuing man againe, set on them, finish'd that noble dayes worke, and kill'd him with his owne hand.

Then did Ollorandus looke about, and with wonder admire that exploit, wondring that such a multitude set vpon the King, and that his strength and courage had withstood, and ouerthrowne so many; this indeed being one of the greatest victories, and without comparison, the most hazardous and dangerous that euer he fell into. As they were thus beholding the slaughter and thinking how to goe thence to cure their wounds, they heard one speake these words; Accursed fortune, that still hath crost my desires, now will I not be more crossed in this wicked world; farewell cruell men, all mischiefs attend you both, and curst be your best wishes. With that shee threw her selfe from the topp of that huge Quarry, into the place where Amphi∣lanthus sate, when she (for this was the Princesse) threwe the stone vpon him, and against the same stone, stid she breake her necke. Then did they striue to bring some of them that lay on the ground to life, if but to tell the plot, but in vaine for they were all dead, yet for their better fortuue, the same woman who had lead Ollorandus away, they saw againe, wherefore he ridd vnto her, and not purposing to be any more abused by her, brought her to Amphilanthus, then did she confesse all the villany, but yet not till she saw her Lady dead; the Treason was when the Princesse saw her Hus∣band dead, kild by Amphilanthus, she one of the wickedest liuing, set some to enquire what course these Knights would take, and so gaining notice that they were to goe into Hungary, shee appointed one of her seruants, (a fit creature for such a mistresse) to offer his seruice to them. They not knowing the way, were very glad of such a conueniency, and so enter∣tain'd him, who brought them to this place, where they mett this terrible encounter, the Princesse her selfe contented to act a part, for the getting of her deuillish purpose, and as a perfect actor did performe the last act best of her Tragedy. Then did she warne them of passing on that way, for (said shee) an other ambush is layd for you, but if you will credit me, though (I confesse) I may be ashamed to expect it, hauing beene already one that de∣ceiud you, yet as I haue any faith, I tell you now but truth, and will aduise you to the best, goe not this plaine way, for by yonder Abbey, is as dange∣rous a troupe layd for you, but crosse this Hill, which though rough and vn∣easie, yet is the way secure and safe. They thanked her, and for her punish∣ment onely appointed her to goe to the new Princesse, and to her discourse all this businesse, and then if shee could turne good from so much ill, as she had been bred in, they•• should be glad, and so they parted; the false and treacherous Princesse hauing no other Tombe then the Quarrey, nor rights but her owne actions, nor monument but the carkasse of her wicked ser∣uants.

The Knights following the Gentlewomans directions, passed with much difficulty the hill, and craggy rocks, getting on the other side, which was a

fine and pleasant Country, to a graue Knights house, where they continued, till they were cured of their wounds. The Gentlewoman performing their command, arriued at the Court, where she related the whole treason, danger and successe of it, telling withall, how that was the onely punishment allotted her.

The kind Sedelia grieued in her soule for this mischance, yet was comfor∣ted when she was assured of their safeties; then sent shee some to visit them, but they could not meet them, though they found the noble memories of them in the slaughter, but heard by a Pastor that they were wel, & gon from the old Knights house perfectly whole, and recouerd. At their returne, the Princesse reioyced, and in rememberance of Amphilanthus, and his friend, set vp a piller in that place, of excellent richnesse, and bignes, in which was curiously engrauen that famous victory: the Abby being daintely seated, & hauing al delights of pleasure, either solitary or otherwise, she built anew, & much more glorious then before, wherin she made the tombe for Antonarus, laying his body there, leauing a place for her selfe, and as soone as her Son came to yeares, fit for gouernment, she put the whole rule into his hands, retyring her selfe to this place, where with loyall loue, and sincere faith, she ended her dayes, beeing after buried with him, from whom liuing, shee would not be parted, nor dead, seuered.

The noble companions beeing recouered, tooke leaue of their kinde host, who would not be contented, till Amphilanthus entertained his onely Son for his Squire, which he did, and so they pass'd towards Hungary; ryding by a faire and pleasant riuers side, which Ollorandus knew, and welcomd each drop which passed by him, knowing, the place where his Mistris most com∣monly liued at, was seated on this streame, his thoughts were busied on her, and Amphilanthus as passionately contemplated his loue: thus they rid to∣gether, yet their thoughts so farre asunder, as might haue made them stran∣gers. As thus they passed among some Osiers, which grew by the side of that Riuer, some of them within it, or the water in loue with their rootes, chastly embraced them, making pretty fine ponds betweene each other, the armes, and bodyes of the trees, lying so kindly to each other, as with much ease, and fine coolenesse, one might passe from one to the other. A dainty Maide among the trees, had taken vp her abiding, hauing made a kind of bed among them, vpon their boughs, which twind within one ano∣thers armes made the lodging secure. She had an Angle in her hand, and lay as if fishing, but her mind plac'd on a higher pleasure; she little regarded the byting of the fish, beeing her selfe deceiued with a cunninger baite, the hooke of loue hauing caught her so fast, as nothing could release her, and as she sate, she would make pretty, and neate comparisons, betweene her be∣traying the poore silly fish, and her owne being betrayed by the craft of loue, which some times she commended; and yet againe would condemne. At this time she was in a reasonable good conceit of loue, & fauorable enough to him, as appeard by this song she sung, the voyce beeing the cause of their seeking any body in that place.

LOue peruse me, seeke, and finde How each corner of my minde is a twine wouen to shine. Not a Webb ill made, foule fram'd, Bastard not by Father nam'd, such in me cannot bee. Deare behold me, you shall see Faith the Hiue, and loue the Bee, which doe bring, gaine and string. Pray desist me, sinewes daines Holds, and loues life in those gaines; lying bare to despaire, When you thus annottomise All my body, my heart prise; being true iust to you. Close the Truncke, embalme the Chest, Where your power still shall rest, ioy entombe, Ioues iust doome.

The Song ended, they went towards her, desiring to discourse with her, she curteous and excellently witty, gaue them entertainement, her apparrell was such, as said for her, she was of the best sort of women: her Gowne was of greene Satten, with long sleeues to the ground; they, and her gowne but∣toned to the bottom, with buttons of Diamonds, so were her wearing sleeues; but by reason the weather was warme, they were left open in spaces, through which her cut worke Smock appeared, and here and there; her delicate skin was seene; shee held her angle as neglectiuely, as loue the ill causer of her paine held her, when the poore little fish did plaie with the baite, or offer to swallow it, too big for them, yet made the corke stirre: so (would she say) doth Loue with me, play with me, shew mee pleasures, but lets me enioy no∣thing but the touch of them, and the smart of the hooke that hurts me with∣out gaine, and only giues as light a good to me, as the hope this floting corck did giue me of the fishes prison. But these imaginations were laid aside by the two Princes comming, to whom she presently rose vp, and with fit and excellent respect she saluted them, throwing downe het rod, wherewith she had thretned, but executed little hurt, & passing ouer her transparant bridge, went vnto them, whom she vsed according to their merits, when shee vnder∣stood who they were, conducting thē along that riuer to a most curious gar∣den, and so into another, and then into as rare a place for building, as they in all their trauels had euerseene, being a house of white Marble. Varietie of all delights were there, and shee desirous that they should enioy them, gi∣uing all the free and noble welcome that could be afforded.

After they had been a while in the house, shee desired them to be pleased to vnarme themselues, which they did, being brought into a rich chamber, wherein there were two maruellous faire beds, they hauing before intreated to lodge together.

Then did she leaue them till supper time, comming then againe to attend them; but when she beheld them, she could not but extreamely admire the louelinesse of Amphilanthus, for no woman, were shee neuer so passionately in loue with any, but confessed him fittest to bee beloued, though such were his worth, as few had the honour of his affection, and most of them grateful∣nesse woed more for, then his owne choice. Thus they went together to the roome where they were to eate, the King of Bohemia vsing all respect vnto the Lady, who he thought did much resemble his Mistris: but as a true louer thought shee came farre short of her perfections. At supper there were ma∣ny Knights more that came to visit this Lady, she being much honoured, and beloued of all: her husband was likewise there, but such a man to bee her mate, as if hee were made for a punishment to her, for being so excellently perfect aboue the common rate of her sexe, her fashion such, as no stranger could but commend to be full of modesty, and iudgement towards him; but as it was discreet and obseruing, so was it to be discernd distant enough from affection, yet as farre from neglect as fondnesse, his likewise to her, as if shee gouernd both parts of loue. He entertaind these Princes with much kindnes keeping them company, and shewing them al the rare delights he had about his house, which were many: but the greatest rarenesse they saw, was the Lady, who so much Amphilanthus marked, as he discouerd her to be one of their fellow prisoners in the Castle of loue; wherefore desirous to heare that discourse, especially louing to heare loue desc••ibed, and related by a woman, out of whose lipps those sweet passions more sweetely proceeded, hee gaue occasion for it, as they walked along a dainty pleasant brooke, the bankes whereof were of such sweetnesse, as the plenty of the most delicate smelling flowers could yeeld vnto them, being shadowed from the Sunnes parching by Mirtle, and that Mirtle preserued by high, and braue trees, whose breadth and large boughs spread to giue content to those, who vnder them would submit to solitarinesse. This place (said Amphilanthus) were fitter much for louers, then such free Princes as liue here. Is there any free from that passi∣on my Lord, said she? Only such (said hee) as you are, whose sence of loue doth rather from you command harts to your seruice, then presume to bring you into the fetters, being rather his commandres, then subiect. An vntoward gouernment (answered she) assuredly I haue yet had, I neuer hauing enioyed quiet minut, since I knew this state, but that rebellious passions haue euer tor∣mented me. Can that be, cry'd Amphilanthus?? I am sensible of them, said she. Alas, said Amphilanthus, that I might be so fortunat to merit so great a happi∣nes, as to vnderstād the way, that bold loue takes to cōquer such perfection.

That may soone be gaind (said shee) for requite me with your story, and I will truly discourse my fortunes to you. Neuer let mee bee rewarded for my paine (said hee) if I refuse this noble offer. Begin you Sir (said shee). I will obay in that also (said he): and then did he tell her the whole story of his affection, onely keeping her name secret, because Ollorandus knew her, and had mistrust of it, but no assurance; after which she began thus.

My Lord, so ill it seemes loue hath carried himselfe, as it is a kind of fault in a woman to confesse any such matter; yet I knowing my selfe innocent of ill, and now ingaged by your freedome to make a requitall, I will venture to speak of this Lord, Loue. My father had a sister married to one of the noblest and greatest Princes of this Countrie, as rich in possessions as any, yet posses∣sed he not so much treasures, as hee did vertues, being richer in them, then any other of this land, true noblenesse and noble hospitalitie abounding in him. He had to inherit his estate, two Sonnes and one Daughter, children fit for such a father, truly and lawfully being heires to both his estates of riches, and vertuous qualities.

Many yeares this good Lord liued, but age claiming the due belonging to time, and a sore disease taking him, hee dyed, leauing his honours, vertues and chiefe estate to his eldest sonne, called Laurimello, who had been much in my fathers house, his father putting that trust in his brother in Law, as to leaue his dearest part of comfort with him: besides, my Fathers estate lay neare to the Citie of Buda, which was a conueniency, by reason of the Courts lying there, for his seeing, and frequenting that: by reason whereof, after his fathers death he brought his sister likewise thither, betweene whom and my selfe, there grew an entire friendship. She being great, and her brother beloued, and honoured aboue any other Prince, many sought her for wife: but shee knowing her perfections and greatnesse, was nice in accepting any, nor indeed had shee much mind to marry, louing her liberty more then ma∣riages bondage.

Among others that offered their seruice to her, there was one called Cha∣rimellus, who by his friends and parents, was sent to sue for her fauour; thi∣ther hee came; but I comming with her into the roome where her suiter was, and her brother, with many more, hee cast his eyes on mee, which brought him that misfortune, as to bee so suddenly surprised, as he knew not scarce how to salute her, which made her scorne him, laughing at his bashful∣nesse, which caused so much blushing and trembling in him. I regarded not his traunces, beginning so much as to thinke from whence it proceeded, but out of good nature was sorry for the man, who in troth deserued much pi∣tie, and merited great respect: but my heart elsewhere placed, held mine eies in their set way, not marking any thing but mine own fortunes, no more then one starre troubles it selfe with anothers course: but my cosin, who would not keepe her thoughts from imparting them to her friends liberally vsed her wit on him, whose part I tooke, ignorant of the cause I had, till some dayes being passed, in which she gaue him refusall; he discouered his loue to me, and withall, protesting how he was surprised at my first sight. I told him, I could not belieue one fight on such an instant could worke such an altera∣tion; nor if it were true, that I would so soone accept of a refused suiter, since my fortunes I trusted would not be such, as to bind me to take my cosins lea∣uings.

This answer grieu'd him, yet did it no way allay his affection, but rather like snow, which plaid with all, doth make ones hands burne: so did the cold de∣spaire of my words make his hart hot, & glow in loue towards me, my friends liked and lou'd him, he being of a sweet and mild disposition, valiant, and accompanied with many braue, and noble conditions; and such a one, as

none, I thinke, could haue disliked, that had been ordaind to marry with iudgement onely, or had not their heart before settled as mine was. Long he pursued his loue, at last he gained my fathers consent, my mothers, and most of my friends, the estate, and antiquitie of his house, besides his person, me∣riting any subiect for wife. When I saw this, and the danger I was in to bee bestowed; I then wholly employd my time, in studying how I might gaine mine owne desires, and finely put this off. While this was in my mind, a third businesse came in, which was another match offerd my father for me, whose estate was greater, and neerer to our dwelling: to which my father (being more then ordinarily affectionate to me) quickly harkned, and willingly em∣braced. Then was I in more danger then before, my heart so perplexed, as I knew not what I did. Poore Charimellus came vnto me, wept to me, presen∣ted his affection to my memory and eies: I pittied him, and truly had as much compassion vpon him, as I, or any other (whose soule was in anothers keeping) could haue of him; and so much fauour I did grant him, as to pro∣mise to speake with my Father, and directly to refuse the new proffered match.

This contented him, hoping my refusall had been onely for his good: I performed my promise, and spake with my father, telling him, how much he was afflicted, how passionately he loued me, what reasons I had rather to accept of him then any other, how the world had taken such notice alreadie of his two yeares suite, as it would be a disgrace to him, and a touch to me, to take this new one; nor did I find that I could affect him, therefore I besought him to graunt me that blessing, that I might not be thus yeelded to euery great match, but that the businesse might be carried more to my honour and content. My father I confesse was vext with these words; yet being as kind as any man, he moderated his furie something, more then I might expect, bringing forth at last these words. The confidence I haue had in you, I hope may still continue in that strength, since I cannot thinke, you dare for good∣nesse sake commit so great a fault, as to deceiue, especially your father; ther∣fore I doubt not, but your freedome is as euer sure; yet I must needs say, the suite of Charimellus continued thus long, hath giuen occasion of discourse, I dislike not your care of that, nor be you afraid more, then reason wills of the worlds reports, which are like the discharging of pieces of Ordinance, where fire, smoke, and noise, are the companions, but one bullet hurts but in one place, and often times misses: so may harme by loud talking people misse hurting you, although the bruite flie; yet doe I not condemne, but prise your care, honour being as necessary to a womans happy life, as good Lungs to a healthfull body: but yet I trust you are not ingaged by promise. I assured him I was not, though I could not deny, but my affection was setled. My fa∣ther imagined hee knew the place, thereupon proceeded in the former match; then was I to worke my end, hauing no meanes, saue mine owne in∣dustrie, and strength of mind busied like a Spider, which being to crosse from one beame to another, must worke by-waies, and goe farre about, making more webs to catch her selfe into her owne purpose, then if she were to goe an ordinary straight course: and so did I, out of my wit weaue a web to de∣ceiue all, but mine owne desires.

The last plot I had, was to make Charimellus intreate my Cosin, to bee his

meanes to me for him, which he (good man) fulfilled; the discreet and braue Laurimello speaking to me as earnestly, and affectionately, as if for himselfe: I receiued his words, and accepted his counsell, as a patient doth the aduise of his Phisition: and so wrought it in me, for he was able to cure me•• and only he, yet not weighing what, and whereto my answers were directed, hee let them passe, my accounted seruant remaining secure, as it was imagined in my opinion and loue, but contrary it proued; for soone after he seeking to haue assurance from me of my grant to be his wife, I refused it, telling him I had priuately vowed vnto my selfe, neuer to be betrothed, nor assured, vntill the time I married. He was troubled with my refusall, yet so ciuilly I vsed him, as he was reasonably contented there withall; neuer were Bees so busie in a Swarme, as my thoughts were how to set my mind, and ends aright•• some∣times I resolu'd to speake, but bashfulnes with-held mee, casting before mine eyes the staine, that iustly might be laid on me, a maid, and of so tender yeeres to wooe a man: then how often I had heard him say, that hee hated forward woman, and could loue none but such an one, who he must win by suite and loue, and who would loue him so, as though most earnestly, yet pretily to make him thinke, neglect did gouerne her, which would be like Cordials to his heart, or a diet to increase the stomack of his loue. These hindred me, and I continued like a branch placed to the wall of faithfull affection, while the blasts of desire did moue the leaues to speake, or shew so much, as might be called loue. While these doubts rul'd, Charimellus fell sicke, being then many miles distant from me. for his estate lay in Austria. I hearing of it, sent to visit him, but so late, as my messenger could onely deliuer, as to his last senses my message, and he for his last words returne me thanks, and so he died, sending me a token, which he tooke from about his arme; with that, and the newes, my seruant came, in troth I was sorry for him, and found that I could weepe for him, and did so too; yet was there no roome left for any, but my first chose loue to inhabit. After his death, the second came againe, and with his friends, and all apparent meanes, did set his rest to win me; but I freed, meant so to hold my self, nor could there be lest color for thē so soone to moue me; hope began then to flatter me, & I saw (or that deceitful thing did see for me) that no bar now did lie between my ioies, & the obtaining, saue a little nice, & childish modesty, which would a vertue proue in shewing modest loue. But so long did I feed my selfe with baby fancy, till the truth was lost, for he not once imagining my end, married another Lady, rich, and therefore worthy.

This misfortune past repaire, and falne on mee, I priuately lamented, moan'd my state, grieu'd and still quarrel'd with my self, and then when all was lost, and hope of ioy quite dead, I yeelded to my second suiters mind, with the consent of all my friends, and publique feasts, I marryed him, with whom I now (thanked be Heauen) happily haue liu'd these many yeares. But doe you not some times said Amphilanthus, see your best chosen friend? Oft times said she, and in that am I bless'd, for heere wee haue all pleasures we can wish, content, and loue, and happines in that.

No happinesse can bee compar'd to that, said Ollorandus, where loue meets, and mutually is blessed with one, and the selfe kinde. But how doth the good-man like of this? so wel said she, as if he made the choyce, being se∣cure in my chastity, yet this I needs must say, I liu'd an ill, & froward life with

him, for some two yeares, while ignorance held me, and willfulnes liued in him; but when wee came to know, or better, to bee cleane deceiued, wee grew good friends, and like kinde mates, haue liued these last three yeares. Humors hee had of iealosie, which I could not blame him for, my fashion beeing free, and such as hauing still beene bred in Court, I carryed with me, but since he discerned, that more innocency lyes vnder a fayre Canope, then in a close chest, which lock't, the inward part may be what it will. Hee ac∣cused himselfe, and is now growne so free, as I doe rather doubt my selfe then him, and in truth I needs must say, I am so much a seruant vnto loue, as I discouer more in outward shew, then graue discretion can permit me with, yet alwayes haue I, and still will rule my affection by vertue.

By this they were arriued at the wall of the garden, hauing still followed that pleasant brooke, which was an arme of the large and braue Danubia; being enter'd the Garden, they met her Husband, and with him the sweete enioyer of her free giuen ioyes, none neede to tell the Princes who hee was, for who but hee could hold her eyes so fast? so eagerly did they behold each other, as if they fear'd one part of sight had fail'd to make a full conclu∣sion of their blisse, or as if they through them would looke into their hearts, to see the setled dwelling of each others faith: there was affection discouered at the height, and as true loue would wish, freely giuen and taken. Most blessed paire said Amphilanthus, sighing in him selfe; alas, may I not liue to see such good? may not my deere behold me with such lookes, such smiles, such louing blushes? may not her vertue freely grant this to me? yes I haue seene such, but accu••sed man must not enioy, but what curst Desteny wil al∣low my wants.

Then made he some excellent verses, the subiect being desire, and absence, and so much was he transported, as he stood not like a beholder, but as an Actor of loues parts: Ollorandus talking this time with the husband, retur∣ning all into the house, Amphilanthus passing in his accustomed manner, the braue Laurimello leading his beloued Lady by the hand, after supper they walked abroad againe, and so till bed time, pass'd those houres in pleasant sweete discourse, the Lady making her owne words true, for neuer did any woman make such free, yet modest shew of loue as she did, yet exprest with such fine iudgement, & sweet chastity, as that loue, was in her deem'd a ver∣tue, and his wanton faults commended by the witt, and dainty manner of her earnest loue. The next day the two Princes tooke there leaues, and so for Buda tooke their iourney, Ollorandus contenting himselfe, with the hop'd for ioyes he should receiue in the conuersation of Melisinda, and Amphi∣lanthus thinking how to returne vnto his deerer selfe, blaming, and condemn∣ing himselfe, for being so long absent, and accusing fortune for such cru∣elty, as not onely to make him loose the comfort others had, but also to make him witnesse of their gaine, & by that to behold his perpetuall harme, and vnbearable want. To Buda at last they came, where they were enter∣tained. Amphilanthus as his merit, and dignity required; Ollarandus with such affection, as all the schoole of loue, could instruct Melysinda with: Rodo∣lindus with triumph, and feast, giuing them testimony of their welcome. Many dayes the feasts continued, and still increased the banquet of loue, be∣tweene the King and his Mistris, when Amphilanthus was intreated to shew

is skill in armes, which he did in a iust, wherein he encountered the King ••••dolindus then vnknowne for the manifesting of his vallour, would disgui∣••••d meete the incomparable Prince, who not vnderstanding any reason why 〈◊〉〈◊〉 spare him, but to adde to his honor, gaue him such vnkind greetings, that ••••though hee were as valiant, and strong as any in Hungary, yet at the fift ••••urse, he was throwne to the ground much brused: which hurt he neuer ••ecouer'd, but within some few months after deceased, leauing his delicate ••ife, as pefect and excellent a widdow.

These iusts being done, Amphilanthus desired liberty of Ollorandus to re∣••••rne, who, though infinitely grieu'd to yeeld vnto it, yet iudging by him∣••elfe the causes that mou'd him, he consented, telling him he would also ac∣••ompany him, but by no means would he consent to that, no more louing 〈◊〉〈◊〉 part, then to be parted from his loue. Alone he resolu'd to goe, but for ••is dwarfe, who attended him, sending his new Squire vnto his Mistris, to ••duertise her of his safty, and of his speedy repayring to her. The first dayes ••ourney, the Queene, with the two Kings accompanied him, then parting, Amphilanthus tooke towards Stiria, and so, that way to goe into Italy, in ••hich Country, hee mette a very fine, and strange encounter, in a delicate ••••adow, (being newly entered Stiria) there was a fountaine, about ••hich were many Ladyes sitting, all apparrel'd after that Country manner, ••ut in one colour, which was willow colour, imbrodered with gold, neate∣••y, but not extraordinarily rich; they were, (as hee perceiued being neere ••hem) some singing, some playing with the water, others discoursing one to ••nother, all busied; and yet none busie, but in play. They hearing his horse, ••ook'd vp, hee saluted them, and alighting came to them, with whom he had many pretty passages of witt; at last he disired to know who they were? they ••nswer'd seruants, as their liuery might testifie, and Ladyes of honor to the Princesse of Stiria, who was absolute Lady of that Country, being subiect to none, and yet not free. Where is that Princesse said Amphilanthus? not farr hence, answered one of them, being walked into yonder wood, where she is the sadest, and most discontented of any Princes liuing. May the cause be knowne said he? To such an one as will offer his helpe, said the first of them. I will doe my best said he, else shall I forsweare armes, when I am so vnwor∣thy a man, as not to serue braue Ladyes. Then Sir, answered she, I will tell you the matter as well as I can, but not so passionately, as my Lady her selfe would doe, if she were to relate it. Emilina (for so is the Princesse cal'd) hauing beene sought of most of these Princes, which are neighbours to this Country, and many more neighbours to loue, refus'd them all, some of them so louing, as loue might haue pleaded, and won for them, others haue con∣quer'd by their valour, some haue gaind pitty by their afflicted passions, but all were as one thing, a louer reiected: she hauing wholy resolu'd within her selfe, to giue her possessions, her heart, and all to the renowned Prince of Naples, and lately King of the Romans, Amphilanthus, whose fame had won more in her, though in person then to her neuer seene, then all they with their continuall petition. At last this Prince came, whose name had so so∣uereignis'd, as she stood not to behold, or examine what causes might in him mooue her affection, but as Amphilanthus she lou'd him. He subtill aboue all men, and as any, faulse, flatter'd her, and so much wrought with her, as

he gain'd what he desir'd, and what he most esteem'd: for had she giuen him les, she had, as she beleeued, wronged her feruent loue: hee seem'd as passi∣onate as she, and surely was so, but vnconstant creature, he did change, and so will all you doe.

While he lou'd, none loued more earnestly, more fondly, none more carefully, but how can loyalty be where varyety pleaseth? scarse cold hee indure any to looke vpon her, much lesse, suffer or permit her to vse any but himselfe familiarly; which hee need not finde fault withall, for so did shee loue, as she neuer look'd on other, with the eyes of more then ciuill curtesie. Some while this continued, the marryage was expected, hee gaind her pro∣mise, to haue onely him; she neuer doubting, prest not for his vowes, more crediting his word, which she assured her loue of, then seeking by desire of stricter vowes, to make him thinke she did mistrust, least action of his, gaue her steddy trust, and so shee trusted, till shee was deceiued, for after hee had gain'd her firmest loue, and so by vowes obtained what he sought, most vild∣ly he beganne to change, and fell inamour'd of a Princes maide, who being neere allied vnto my Lady, often came to visite her at Court; this Gentle∣woman truly was most faire, and I thinke good till then, if not then too; we sawe it, and were vex'd with it, yet knowing that no curster cor'siue can bee to a louer, then to be dispised, especially by him that once did loue; at last she found it, (miserable knowledge,) how then was she grieued? if I should offer to discouer, I must say I am a louer, and forsaken to, otherwise can none, or ought any to presume to tell a farlorne creatur's woe. First, in silence she did beare her paine, and with attendance, and continuall kindnes, striue to win him back, or rather, that he might not thinke she did mistrust, she stroue to hold his loue, But that vngratefull man, (which name is more then her gentle affection will yet permitt her to giue him,) discerning her respect and loue, would seeme to see neither, yet faild he not in all outward shewes, to manifest his change. She writ vnto him, she wept before him, she complay∣ned, she bewailed others that were forsaken; he heard, and not regarded, he answer'd but slighted, he ioyned in pittying them, but neglected her that most wanted; she lost her beauty with sorrow, with weeping whole nights, and sobbing, that I haue my selfe come in, vncalled but by those sorrowes to her, the greatnesse of her heart, though able in the day to couer them, yet was forced at night, to borrow assistance of breathing out what her spleene was ouer charg'd withall, and what, saue teares, sobs, and silence would shee trust for her associates? Forgetfull man that so abused her, who wrong'd her selfe alone in trusting him, nay wrong himselfe in such a base vnworthy change. I aduentured to aduise, when I saw all misery ouer take her; shee tooke my counsell, which was, to vrge the marriage. He slighted her, and told her she was growne old, and her beawty alter'd, willed her to recouer that, and when he return'd from a iourney that he had in hand, he would be as he was.

Alas, what torment was this to her, who was only his? she tooke it to the heart, though hee smilingly deliuered it, as if in iest, till all considered it aprooued true; then faign'd he an excuse, that the King his father sent for him, and that at his returne he would not misse to performe what hee had promised, so he found her as he expected. His leaue he tooke of her, which

went as neere her heart, as marrow to the bones, yet staid he afterwards with the other wench som certaine daies. We vsed al meanes to hold her ignorant of that, and many more his passages: but what more cleare and perfect sigh∣ted, then true loue? She knew all, and yet knew her faith so cleare to him, as she would blind her sight, rather then touch his truth. O faithles Amphi∣lanthus, accursed man, that brought this hard insufferable wrong and harme vnto the faithfullest and the worthiest louer, that euer loue did wound. But to proceed, he went and left my Lady quite forsaken and forlorne, who since (vnhappy woman) liues in groanes, and daily sorrowings. But where now is the Prince, said Amphilanthus? Truly Sir (said she) where the falsest, ficklest, waueringst, and vnworthiest man doth liue, and there is hee, and else where know I not. No such vnworthinesse liues in that Prince, I know him well said he, and lately saw him, but I will not say 'tis the same you speake of, for it may be, some such creature hath abused his name, and for these ends giuen out to be the man. Know you the Prince then, said she? if you doe, hee is a faire false man, a treacherous well shap'd man, not tall, though high in mis∣chieuous ill nature, slender, but full in wickednes, curld haire, and thicke; yet bauld in vertue, and this is Amphilanthus, as he cald himselfe. The Prince knew straight it was another man she meant, yet grieued to heare his name so much abused, and that a Princesse should beare wrong for him. This, besides his owne interest in the matter, made him vow reuenge, wherefore hee desi∣red to see the Princesse, the first Lady told him, that if hee would attend her comming forth of the Wood, hee should be admitted to her sight, he would not further vrge, and so with them sat downe, while one of them sung this Song, telling him it was made by her Lady, who was as perfect in all noble qualities, as subiect to loue, and so to bee for too much faith de∣ceiued.

FRom victory in loue I now am come Like a commander kild at the last blow: In stead of Lawrell, to obtaine a tombe With triumph that a steely faith I show. Here must my graue be, which I thus will frame Made of my stony heart to other name, Then what I honor, scorne brings me my tombe, Disdaine the Priest to bury me, I come.

Cloath'd in the reliques of a spotlesse loue, Embrace me you that let true louers in; Pure fires of truth doe light me when I mooue, Which lamp-like last, as if they did begin. On you the sacred tombe of loue, I lay My life, neglect sends to the hellish way, As offering of the chastest soule that knew Loue, and his blessing, till a change both slew.

Here doe I sacrifice worlds time of truth, Which onely death can let me part with all, Though in my dying, haue perpetuall youth Buried alone in you, whereby I fall. Open the graues where louers Saints haue laine, See if they will not fill themselues with paine Of my affliction, or striue for my place, Who with a constant honour gaine this grace.

Burne not my body yet, vnlesse an Vrne Be fram'd of equall vertue with my loue To hold the ashes, which though pale, will burne In true loues embers, where he still will moue; And by no meanes, let my dust fall to earth, Lest men doe enuy this my second birth, Or learne by it to find a better state Then I could doe for loue immaculate.

Thus here, O here's my resting place ordain'd, Fate made it e're I was; I not complaine, Since had I kept, I had but blisse obtain'd, And such for loyalty I sure shall gaine. Famebeares the torches for my last farewell To life, but not to loue, for there I dwell, But to that place, neglect appoints for tombe Of all my hopes; thus Death I come, I come.

Did Emilina (said the Prince) write this, sure Amphilanthus could neuer be false to such a creature. He was, and is (said she), and truly doth hee make good his name, that signifieth the louer of two. That name (said he) was gi∣uen him, e're he knew what loue was, or himselfe. The latter sure he knowes not yet, said shee. You will I doubt not shortly haue a better opinion of this Prince. Neither of him, nor those that be his companions, said she, vnlesse I grow so vnfortunate, as to be a louer of all variety, and so for that, I may like changing men, or delight in Camelions. With this the Princesse came, a Lady not of highest stature, nor low; so hansome, as one well might see, there had bin excellent beauty, but decay'd, as loue was withered to her, who now re∣sembled the ruines of a faire building; her countenance graue, but curteous, shewing rather retirednes, then much giuen to conuersation; her pace, slow, and her apparrell careles: her clothes were of Tawny, cut with Willow co∣lor, and embroidered with Willow garlands of that color, and gold to shew the forsaken part was noble. She came towards them, and with a modest ge∣sture saluted the Prince, who with his helmet off, presented the true Amphi∣lanthus to her eyes; she desired to know of whence he was, and what aduen∣ture brought him thither. He told her, he was of Italy, and that his blessed fortune had brought him, where he might repaire an iniury done to a wron∣ged Prince, and serue her in the busines. Alas, said she, what seruice can I haue in that, since none liues wrongd so much as I? nor can one of that countrie,

or all that Nation, right the iniurie receiued by one, and yet deare one ••o me. That one that wronged you (answered he) shall right you, or my life shall pay for it; tell me where you thinke he is. If I did know (said she) and with all vnderstood a danger to him by reuealing him, for all the ha••me I haue receiued, I would conceale him, and thus haplesse liue, rather then be a meanes to harme his person, which still I hold deare. How happy is that Prince (said he)•• and yet vnfortunate to be so iniured, as to be defamed by a suborner, and a traiterous man, falsely assuming thus a Princes name. Wrong him not with that taxe (said she), for sure I could not loue a meaner man, not any but that Prince, and so the brauest Amphilanthus. But you it seemes, haue heard of his light loue, his change and falshood. Alas heare, with that; what man, nay, euen your selfe hath lou'd and neuer changed? may not then Amphilanthus doe the like? What a perplexitie this was to him, iudge brauest louers: but she did proceed; What shame then is it to him? and to whom can harme insue, saue to vs wretched trusting women. Madam (said hee) I seeke to cleare the Prince, and to let you discerne the wrong he beares, that one so base and so persidious, hath taken his name on him. She was speaking, when a Knight, who newly there arriu'd, kneeled to him, telling him he was most glad to find him so neare home, but sorry for the newes hee brought, which was, he must repaire with all the speede hee could into his Country, for otherwise he could not enioy the blessing of his aged fathers sight, who then was ready to yeeld vnto death; withall hee gaue him letters from the Lords, and from his brother. While hee thus discoursed, the Prince tooke them, and then the Lady askt of the stranger, who this Prince was, to whom he had vsed such reuerence. He answered; Amphilanthus of Naples, Prince, and now he thought, the King. She then turning to him; My Lord (said she) I must needes blame your name, that hath brought me my discontent, yet ho∣nor your person, though the loue to that, was the sweet betrayer of my blisse. Then did she freely confesse, what the Lady before had related, which being heard by the young Prince of Venice (for it was he that came vnto him with the newes), he assured Amphilanthus, that hee had met the Knight, and by him had been ouerthrowne; so as truly Sir (said he) he is valiant, and as strong as a man need bee, to maintaine so bold a charge, as to counterfeit your strength; he hath also now got a companion, who calls himselfe Ollorandus; and thus they passe, your fame makes few, except strangers, meddle with them. But I seeing his face, and with that his falshood, ventured to fight with him, hauing iustice on my ••ide, which I hoped would bring me victory; but I see, that a good arme must hold the ballance, else sometimes truth may fal (as I did) to the ground. Amphilanthus confident of the truth of the deceit, took his leaue of the Lady, who earnestly desired his presence to her house, but he taking the occasion of the Venetians comming, would excuse himselfe, and keepe him free from temptations, till hee saw the perfect commandresse of his dearest loue. The Lady was troubled, yet at last, like other crosses, shee did beare with that, but in the night she thus lamented. Wretched woman, aboue all accursed, must my affection first be placed on worth, & that worths name abuse me and my trust? which were I better hope of, that I was betraid and cousned by a false and treacherous man, then by the Prince? No sure I was deceiued, for none but he that did betray me, spake of him; here one cals

him away vnto his country. O I was deceiu'd, and am, and shall be, haplesse Emilina, borne to ill, nursed to misfortune, and must die by change. Alas Am∣philanthus, I did loue thee most, best, and my youngest loue, and most innocent was giuen to thee. I knew not loue, when I did find, that I loued thee; my heart was thine, before I knew it was mine owne to giue: thou tookest it, I thought did prize it too; thou calledst it thine, thine owne be••t heart, didst cherish it, and kindly made of it; said, I did arme the God of loue himselfe, gi∣uing him sight and power; and when in Verse I once did waile a little ab∣sence, which I was to suffer by thy going for one weeke from mee, in that small space thou didst repay my lines, calling me sweet more kind; & telling me, if I did harme mine eyes, I should disarme loue, and vndoe the throne of him and his; and yet all this is falfe, and thou (O thou) vntrue. Deceiued I am; yet why didst thou plot for my ruine? If to gaine by me, why didst thou not make all the Country thine, as well as me? No, I doe see thy conquest was but me, and I was only for a prey to ••atisfie thy will; variety of loues, not faire possessions, are thy aimd at-games. Yet Amphilanthus true or false, I must still loue thee best, and though thou wrong me, I must loue thee still. What torments haue I alas for thee indurd? How haue I searched my heart, and found thy Image, as if lim'd in each small corner of it; but all ioyn'd in that seruice, made it round, and yours, yet are you false; O me that I must liue and say, Amphilanthus is proued false, and vnto me; yet this braue Stranger saies, hee is abused; well, bee it so, I loued him as that Prince, and so my crosses came.

Is it not possible, O cruel man, Prince, or whatsoeuer els, that thou wilt back returne? Come home againe, and be thy first sweete selfe, kind, louing; and if not a Prince, I'le make thee one; and rather would I wish thou wert not one, but with that title throw thy fault away, and bee a louer, iust and excel∣lent; thou maist be so, for where doth lodge more abilitie of good, of valor, vertue, and all else, but constancy, which I wil pardon: come vnto me, I forget that euer I was left, that thou wert false, vnkind, and will remember onely our first ioyes, thinke all this other time was absence, or a dreame, which happines likely contrary to what appeares. O let this be so, my deare, and (only deare) I doe forgiue thee: I inuite thee, come accept my state, a gift laid at thy fee••, my selfe thy vassall, these are worthy thanks, and these I will performe. Leaue those inticing beauties, and great wits, that snare-like catch, & hold for meere aduantage to them, and their ends; ticing thee by fine Brades of vowed locks, and plaited haire, a dainty shew; nor didst vse with me, my haire vnworthie of the honor to be worne by thee: thou thinkst I know not this; yes, and do grieue for it, yet will be silent to thee. I am a woman free, and freely offer, I not begge, but giue, and aske but loue for principality, and rule of me: many I know doe seeke thee, and thy gentle disposition (apt to bee deceiued, as I was when I loued) will be abused. Beware, cast those deare eyes that wonne my freedome on my faith and zeale, and then discouer what a difference there is betwixt feruent loue, whose ends are loue; & such, where only vse & gaine attends desier. But if thou wilt continue thus, be yet still safe, let their loues to thee, bee as firme as mine; let dangers flie from thee, safetie bee neere, and all ill shun thee, blessings prosper with thee, and bee thou blessed with them.

Then turnd she fighingly within her bed; al night she thus did passe those houres, with such distracted passions: and so full her mind was stor'd with memorie of him, as shee did call all actions into mind, and as new done, did liuely make presentment to her eyes, and so of all past happinesse shee knew. Then mixt she them with her new discontents, and so comparing them, make her poore selfe the stage, where ioy and sorrow acted diuers parts, her heart the sad sceane where the storie lay; oft did shee call him false, then loue inraged, made her recall that, and complaine of spite, conclu∣ding still, I cannot yet but loue, though thus forsaken, and forelorne I liue.

Amphilanthus gone, he fell into discourse with the young Venetian, who related vnto him what he had heard of the counterfet Prince, then did hee proceed, how hee vnderstood, hee had taken his way by sea into Greece, and thence for Asia, and there no question (said he) the dainty Pamphilia will be; the kingdome he'le first visit, and good welcome surely (said Amphilan∣thus) he'le find there.

Thus they rid on, the King contemplating his Mistrisse, beholding her as present, as if by; and the Venetian plotting how to gaine the louing Emelina to his wife, but that was difficulter to bee gaind, then their arriuall without more aduentures into Italy; so as being thither come, the King was met with many, who were going, some to seeke, and some from seeking him, were return'd.

At last he came to Naples, where he found his father sicke, and past recoue∣ry, yet so much comforted to see his sonne, as life in the last power did ex∣presse it both with face and smile: but that as ioyfull newes crost by the next vnlucky messenger, is as a greater crosse, then if at first time knowne: so did his death more heauily incounter the good hope his sonne did then re∣ceiue.

He dead, the Lords and Commons all with one consent (and that consent accompanied with gladnesse in their good) receiued Amphilanthus for their King. A maruelous braue funerall was then prepared, within which time the Princes neere and farre, as fast as notice came, sent their Embassadors to condole and congratulate his happy beginning. The funerall once passed, straight followed the Coronation, where the Embassadours did assist of Mo∣rea, France, great Brittany, Bohemia, Romania, and the sweet, and deli∣cate Pamphilia; all being done, the Embassadours tooke their leaues, the King presenting them with presents rich, and fit for him to giue, and them to take: then the next businesse was, to settle all his estate in good or quiet gouernment, to which end he did appoint the Prince his bro∣ther to be Regent, and setled such a graue and honest Counecll, as he was se∣cure (though absent) of his Kingdomes good.

Then went hee with some forces hee had raised, which were in number twentie thousand Foote, and fiue thousand Horse to the place ap∣pointed, to ship them for Epirus, directing them the time of putting forth, which way he resolued, the rest would passe into Albania: the Princes of Florence, Milan, Ferrara, Naples, Modina, Apulia, and many more officers of this Field in this braue army went: but he trusting the army with these com∣manders, himselfe accompanied onely with the Prince of Venice, landed in

Morea, from thence being able easily to meet his men, and time enough, for any seruice. Being landed, hee heard nothing but Drums, and Trum∣pets, and such warlike musique, which well pleas'd his eares; much hast hee made, till he came to the Court, where he found great sadnes for an vnhap∣py accident befalne Selarinus, which was this, going (as hee thought safe e∣nough because disguis'd) into Epirus, the proud Queene of that Country, who had denyed passage for the Armie, got notice of him, and that notice gaue dainger of his life; for her Mother beeing Daughter to one of the Kings, or Lords of Albania, treachery, and falshood, hauing deuided it into fiue parts, he and the other Townes, had made a combination, neuer to suf∣fer eyther to be harm'd, but contrariwise to harme any should molest the o∣ther, and to seeke all meanes to ruine the two brothers, whose fame had, though with honor, vnluckely come to their eares, vertue in them, hauing brought the worlds companion, malice, with her.

This was not only agreed of among this wicked confederacy, but also taught as a necessary lesson to their Children; this Daughter, hauing mar∣ryed her selfe to the like vow, else a maide, and faire, but proud, insolent, and as those creatures, are commonly ignorant enough. She first to giue oc∣casion of offence, denyed passage for the Armies, hauing so much foolish pride about her, as she was blinded from knowledge, that th••se forces could passe with her losse of her Realme, if they pleased; but she, who saw but as through a prospectiue glasse, brought all things neerer or farther, as shee pleas'd to turne the ends to her sight: so she drew danger to her, and put as∣surance with iudgment, and goodnes from her, laying waite through all her Country for either of those Knights, or any other who belonged to the vni∣ted kings, that by chance, or hope of disguises, surely might offer to passe that way. It was Selarinus his mishape, first, and onely at that time to aduen∣ture, and hauing rid two dayes iourney without let, or any kind of hazard, the third day, he vnfortunatly hapned into a house belonging to a Keeper, and standing in a great Forrest: this Keeper, had in his youth beene an Es∣quire to an Epirian Knight, slaine at Mantinia, at a great iust there held, after whose death he return'd, and putting himselfe vnto the Queene, hee gain'd the keeping of this Forrest: this man fell into discourse, being crafty, and so fitt for so ill an imployment, as he was vsed in; by discourse hee gain'd know∣ledge, that this was one, belonging either in place, or affection to the More∣an Court; then hauing enough to worke vpon, as if he had eaten much poy∣son, hee must breake, so brake he into the open way of destroying Selarinus; for sending his boy to the Court, which was then but ten miles off, by the next morning he had forty Knights to secure him, and conduct the Prince, trecherously made a prisoner, to the Queene, who mistrusting no Treason vnder greene clothes, nor falshood, where so faire language and welcome dwelt, at night being weary, vnarm'd himselfe, and went to bed, where hee slept, till hee was awaked with the paine, which hard cords cast about his armes brought him, he did after confesse he heard some noise, but thought it had only beene his Squire puting vp his Armour, or making it ready, and fitt against the morning; but when he saw how he was deceiu'd, and heard his poore seruant cry also out against them, he only with Princely patience said this; suffer imprisonment with mee, poore boy, said he, as well as thou

hast enioyed freedome, and content, witnessing that Fidelius can serue Infor∣tunius in all estates faithfully. By that the youth knew his Lord, would not be knowne by other name then Infortunius, wherefore hee resolu'd to dye, rather then betray him. Till morning hee was thus held, then deliuered to to the Knights, who straight carryed him to their Queene; shee hating all that had but seene Morea, or any of those Countryes belonging to them, she cal'd enemies, went into her Hall, and with all magnificent state sate to behold, & so to scorne the vnfortunate Knight, who was brought in chaind; the Queene sitting with a setled resolution, to manifest hate, scorne and con∣tempt, but seeing his sweetnesse, and louelynesse, his tender youth, his mo∣dest countenance, tryumphing as it were ouer his misery: with noble pati∣ence, only shewing stoutnesse in bold suffering, and giuing way to Fortune, as subiect in that tyranny, yet inwardly his estate molested him, & shame to see those braue armes fetterd, and bound, brought some blood into his face, which though shewed vpon such occasion, yet it prouoked an other con∣clusion, for he being naturally some what pale, this made his beauty appeare more delicate, as if of purpose to purchase his libertie; thus was hee forced to be beholding to that womanish part, to restore his manly power to liber∣ty, that working for him, which his worth held least worthy in him, for the Queene (though most ambitiously, raised in conceit of her selfe) now found there was a greater Prince, and a higher authority, which might, and would command. She gazed on him, shee blam'd the small respect their rudnesse had shewed to a Knight, to bring him like a theife, chain'd, shee caused his bands to be taken off, and strictly corrected them, (who expected thanks) telling them the disarming had beene an honor, but their taking him naked was a shame vnto them, and to all braue spirits. Then called shee the Prince to her, desiring to know his name, and Country, kindly smiling on him, holding him by the hand, the softnesse, and fairenesse, of which she grieued should handle a sword, or be vsed in fights, fitter to bee held by her like-louing selfe; withall she assured him, his imprisonment should be no other then content, if he would but yeeld to her desires. Hee answered, his name was Infortunius, nephew to the Lord of Serigo, who was killed at the King of Morea's Court, in his presence and many more, hauing thither brought a faire Lady, whose loue he was to winn by fight, but he was slaine by Selarinus, younger brother to Steriamus, for whom the great preparations were now made to winn Albania. Are you of their party said she? Truely Madam said he, I wish good to all iust causes, otherwise, I being but one, am little able to asist any, therfore dare I not venture to say I am of any side, but I did intend to see the warrs. If you did but intend that, you may said she still continue that purpose, nor will I hinder you, yet I must enioyne you to some things for my sake. Hee answered her, his life was in her hands to command. Not but to saue, and cherish it, replied she: therefore goe with this Gentleman, who shall direct you, and conuey you to a chamber fitt for you; then did one of her cheife officers conduct him to a maruellous rich roome, which she had appointed him to carry him vnto, where hee had all things necessary, and braue, saue his armes, then did he leaue him there, and his owne Squire to attend him, with many more, whose respects, and officiousnesse was such, as mou'd trouble, and proued such liberty, a true

imprisonment, yet at night he had freedome, for by the Queen's appoint∣ment they were not to lye in his Chamber, but in an other roome, where for his safety, & no way to trouble him, they might conueniently remaine. Supper was serud vnto him, with all seruicable duty, infinite rich, and sump∣tuous fare, glorious plate, and nothing wanting, that so proud a woman could to satisfie that humour, thinke of; to gloryfie her selfe, and obleige him. He fed, and after supper went to bed, the doores were shut, and hee layd downe to rest, but what quiet could he enioy? fearing all these faire be∣ginnings would turne to his greater harme, for no end could he see, but dis∣honour to him, as himselfe, and certaine danger, as Infortunius abuse; and what was most as Philistella's seruant, shame, and iust reproach if hee falsified her trust, or his affection. Tormented thus, he did remaine til towards mid∣night, when a doore opened at his beds head, out of which came sixe La∣dyes, each carrying two white wax candles, which they set downe vpon a cupbord, placed of purpose before the bed; then they returned, when the Queene, as rich and glorious as Iuno, came in, her mantle was Carnation sattine embroder'd with gold, and round pearle, fastned with a faire Ruby; her wastcoate of the most curious worke could bee made with needle, her petty coat suitable to her mantle, her head dressed with a dressing fram'd of the same worke with her wastcoate, through which, her haire was delicate∣ly drawne in many places; daintely she was apparrel'd, able to winne any, but such a spirit as Selarinus: for neuer did curious carelesnesse better adorne creature, then it did this Queene, who with care sought to bee neglectiue in her apparrell; To the bed side she came, and sitting downe vpon it, so as the light might serue to shew her beauty, she thus spake.

Your name, and comming into my power, so nearely agreeing, canno•• giue you other hope, then to follow them, who haue before runne into this danger of breaking my commands, which are not without death to be satis∣fied, especially, if you, like those wilfull men, will not obey me: yet this fauor you haue to lead you to happinesse, that I neuer honourd any before with thus much kindnes, which in an other (if not so great a Queene) might be called loue. But I, that scorne subiection, cannot allow such a power, on∣ly confesse my liking you, hath made me pitty you, and pitty, brought mee to offer you an vnusuall honor, for till this time, did neuer any thought wher∣in ill might lurke inhabit, nor euer was I mou'd to thus much shew of immo∣desty; yet flatter not your selfe with thought, of ouer much gaine, since my attendants witnesse my truth, and such boldnes, as durst not bee matched with loosenes. But indeed, I must say, I did like you, when I saw you first, and so well, as I then resolu'd to be courteous to you, that hath made mee willing to speake with you, and to be truely resolu'd of you; the night time I chose by reason my spirit hauing hitherto euer commanded, and not in the least, yeelded to any authority, I should now be ashamed to giue occasion of the contrary conceit, either by my countenance, or fashon, which I doub∣ted would be so much more alter'd, as my desires to faor you, might purchase mee; yet hope not more then your duty, and respect to me, may lawfully challeng, least you fall into as great a hazard, as a Larke doth, who to shun the Hobby lyes downe, till the nett be laid ouer her, and so is caught by her owne folly, or base yeelding. But if you yeeld to me, it shall bee noble, if

you refuse death: honour will not permit mee to demand ought but noble things, honour likewise ties you to obedience, you a Knight, I a Queene, able to crowne you with the title of a King, as it may bee with the honour of my loue; feare not, noblenesse dares aduenture any thing that's noble. I come not to you with threatning Armes or weapons to indanger you, only with loue arm'd fully, and so I would conquer. What needs Armes (replied the distressed Prince), where such vnmatched power raignes? weapons where beautie dwells: or can refusall liue, where such perfections authorise yeel∣ding? Command mee great Queene, I am your seruant, your prisoner; what vse of words when the heart submits? or speech, when I am in your ••oyall hands a Vassall at command? She was pleased, and well liked this an∣••were, her pride and power satisfied, yet out of pride ordering her actions, so as calling her maides, she went away, assuring her selfe, that his loue must bee ••nswerable to her ambitious coueting it, and seruile to her will: but her maids ••omming to her, they brought a marueilous louely banket of seuerall sorts of ••ruites, both preserues, and other as that time afforded, and the delicatest ••ines Greece did know. Then tooke she him by the hand, with a countenance of maiesty and loue mix'd, neither too high in state, nor with shew of sub∣••isse affection. She was no sooner gone, but Selarinus shut the doore, grieued ••o the hart, that he should be so tempted to iniure Philistella, whose loue was ••o ingrauen by truth in his breast, as he vowed to die, rather then consent to ••ny greater kindnes, then that night he had yeelded vnto. The rest of which ••ime hee spent in thinking of his loue, and weeping out compassion on his woes, that were remediles; yet such were his teares, as they made prints in ••is soule, for euery one shed seem'd like a drop throwne on fire, that makes 〈◊〉〈◊〉 blacke, but quencheth it not: so did those spots of falshood (as hee tearmd ••hem) disgrace, not disanull his vowed faith. Deare Starre (said he), which ••nely giues me light, how maiest thou darken thy selfe from fauouring me? ••nd how iustly may I condemn'd demand no pardon? My dearer life, hadst ••hou heard my words, or seene my manner, mightst not thou too iustly cen∣••ure me? I am vnworthy of thy smallest grace, and vnable to excuse my er∣••or; yet this consider, I must get liberty to serue thee, and how but by deceit? ••f each one may vse deceit, it will be surely permitted, if not allowed, to enioy ••heir loues; then for that purpose beare with me, but let me deceiue her, to ••ee true to thee, and to be with thee. Pardon then this ill, and giue leaue to vse Art to be more plaine with thee; my bodies liberty lies in her to graunt, my heart••s in thine to kil or saue, sweet now be like thy like, gentle, and sweet, ••nd be assurd, I will not liue to be vntrue vnto thy loued selfe. Then turnd he ••n his bed, sigh'd, and wept, and so continued till the day appeared, then rose, and drest himselfe, his Page, and the attendants first appointed by the Queene waiting vpon him. When he was ready, he walk'd about the roome, at last he ••ooked out at the window, not to see, but to be vnseene to lament, breathing his priuate sighs into the aire; the chiefe of his attendants, thinking hee had ••tood admiring those sweet fine delights, told him, if it pleased him, hee might goe into that Garden, for such leaue he had. Hee willing to haue any signe of freedome, quicklie gaue consent, so little a place as a Gar∣den being like fresh-water, comfortable to stenched fish: so this to a pri∣••oner.

Downe they went, the walkes were extreame high, and no way to bee climb'd, gaue them certaine assurance of his safety, wherefore they left him. When he was alone, he threw himselfe vpon the ground, beate his breast, and still cried out; O me wretched of all men, why am I thus punished for ambi∣tions choice? Loue, thou didst choose, or say I did, why Loue, I doe the more deserue thy fauour, when choice and loue are honourd in the choice. Where he had cast himselfe, it was vnder a faire shade of Oranges, a purling brooke whispering close by him, which still he ••hought, said; Philistella see, see; I see my wrong, cry'd he, but better consider my true loue to thee; auoid temptations poore distressed Selarinus, and proud lasciuious Queen, forbeare thy shame, and mine. Then came she in, for from her cabinet, she might be∣hold that garden plainely, and perceiuing him, she said within her selfe, my loue is there, my loue commands, my loue inuites, the time allowes, and all things with my longings now agree. As she was thus resolud, she left her Ca∣binet, and hasted towards the Garden, to win, assure, and so enioy him, whom she found enioying as much griefe, as absence, and imprisonment could bring a loyall louer. He saw her not, till she threw her selfe downe by him, he star∣ted vp, and with humilitie demanded pardon for his boldnesse, in not rising to her Maiestie, which fault might be excused, by not perceiuing her, till shee downe was laied.

Your fault is greater (said she) in rising, since that witnesseth your desire of leauing me, no ill proceeding from kind loue and stay. He then kneeled down, and so they did discourse, she making loue, he coldly answering it, yet couering still his backwardnesse with feare, and his respect vnto her greatnes not daring to haue an aspiring thought to rise so high, till almost shee was for∣ced plainely to wooe, which hardly he did vnderstand, wherefore ignorance, and duty begge his pardon: which so liked her, being assured to hold him, till she had what shee desired, and then might dispose of him according to her mind and will. She brauely wooed, he humbly entertained, and thus that day passed.

Night againe was come, when he afraid of such a louing visitant, lay mu∣sing, and beseeching loue it selfe to keepe her from him. This his prayer was heard, for shee came not, but in the morning sent to speake with him, who was conducted to her chamber by many Gentlemen th••ough braue Galle∣ries, and stately roomes. When he was arriued at the place where shee was to giue audience.

I sent (said shee) for you about a businesse, which may bring good to you, and which is more, liberty if you performe it. My life Madam (said hee) is in your power, command, I will obay. There is (said shee) •• proud vaine man, so ouer-esteeming himselfe, as he dares thinke himselfe a match for mee, a subiect, and what more, is my Vassale: this arro∣gant creature hath often sued to mee, now threatneth (if I refuse) the winning mee by force, how hee will bring the Army that is going to Alba∣nia through my Country, which I haue gain••said, and sent refusa••l to the ad••mired brothers, who••e part hee boasts that hee will take, and by their helpe 〈◊〉〈◊〉 shalbe made his wife. These, though only threatnings, yet are much vnfit fo•• me to suffer; wherefore I desire that you will vndertake the quarrell fo•• mee, and defend my state against the insolent subiect. Selarinus wa••

loath to fight with one, who he found by her relation was his friend; yet li∣berty, the comfort of ones soule, went beyond all other considerations, so as he vndertooke the businesse. She comforted with that, answered the letter he had sent, which was this.

TErenius of the Castle, to Olixia, Queene of Epirus, sends this world, that if my affection bee thus still slighted, and forgetfulnesse rule, where fondnesse once remaind, I will no longer endure wrong'd, but by force obtain•• right. I haue lou'd you, proud Queene, these many yeares; you lou'd mee like∣wise, or told me so, expressions some I had, as my chamber and yours can wit∣nesse. I honour you too much yet to defame you, if faire meanes may preuaile, happinesse may succeed to both, if not, expect sudden shame, and cruell force.

OLixia of Epirus, to Terenius. Presumptius Vassall, abu••e not my cha••ti∣tie with thy soule reports, which cannot be hid vnder the few touches you giue me, o•• your chamber and mine, where God can witnesse, no thought of my sid•• tended, or looked towards ill; the only offence I haue committed, being the good vsage I gaue to so a base a deseruing creature. Your threatnings I feare not, and scorne your v••worthy selfe so much, as I almost hate my selfe for an∣swering you, which honour you neuer should receiue, were it not to let you know, that I will haue men ready, to bring you, and your rebellious company captiue to me, as soone as I heate you dare moo••e in armes: or if your pride will let you defend your honor alone without an army, I haue a Knight here shall defend me from you, and make you confesse you were insolent, but by his might, and my iustice, againe my vassall.

This letter was sent, whereupon Terenius conceiued such disdaine, as gi∣uing order for his raised men to attend Steriamus (what euer became of him) he went to the Court, where hee found the Queene like her letter towards him, telling him, that were it not for the honor she bore to Armes, he should haue bolts, and a hard prison, rather then liberty of combat, for his presump∣tion; but comming vpon her summons to defend his vniust cause, he should haue leisure to fight. Then was Selarinus preparing for the busines, his armor being brought him, likewise his good sword, whereof he was infinitely glad: b••t comming downe into the lists, as soone as he saw Terenius, he knew him, hauing seene him doe very brauely in Morea, in a Iust there held for the arri∣uall of Amphilanthus, and his friends after the enchantment. This, and besides the loue he heard he bore his brother, and himselfe, troubled him to fight a∣gainst him, yet no remedy there was as he could yet perceiue, which afflict∣ed him, ••ill Terenius saying, that he for many yeares had not fought with any, b••t he spake some few words with him, vpon a vow made after encountring his owne father; he desired therefore to see the Knights face, and to say som∣thing to him. The Iudges gaue leaue, so comming together, Terenius knew him, then wept he for griefe, and vnkindnes, that hee should forget him, and fight for her, who hated him, and true worth, especially against his friend and seruant. Selarinus told him, hee was there a prisoner, not knowne, but would faine get liberty, for if he were once d••scouerd, nothing could saue him from death. Be ••uld by me (said he) in the fight I will make shew to run away, fol∣low

mee close, and I will leade you out of the lists, being content to be held a coward for your seruice and good, what then shall hinder vs, till wee come to my men, which are but sixe leagues hence, armd, and armd for you. Hee consented to it, but then speaking aloud; Villaine, said he, dost thou thinke to make me betray my Queene, and Mistris? With that the Queene smild, thinking her selfe secure, and assur'd of her seruant. They met with the sound of trumpets, but both missed breaking their staues, though so fairely they ran, as had it not been meant to be in earnest, they might haue giuen content with great shew of fury: they threw away their Speares, and drew their swords, fighting most eagerly to show, but the blowes falling fl••t-long, did no harme, like clouds threatning stormes, but in pitie breakes vp againe to clearenes. Then did Terenius retire a little, and Selarinus presse much on him, and so much, as being neere ouer-comming (as the people iudged, and all laughing at Terenius) he turnd his back to the Princes, and fled, who with all speed, and loud cries will'd him to stay; but he heard not, the other still followed. The company attended the returne of the Victor, till he staying longer then the custome was, a certaine place being limited for one that fought on such tearmes, to returne with honour from slauery, some ran after him, to let him know the fashion, and the acknowledgement of the victorie, with intreaty to come, and receiue thanks from the Queene, for the honor he had done her: but all this needed not, for they that went, might see the two late seeming enemies appeased, their swords put vp, & riding together, as fast as their horses could carry them towards Terenius Castle. The messengers re∣turnd with this ill newes, the Queene stormd, tore her haire for meere anger and vexation, men were presenty raised to raze his Castle to the ground, and summes of mony offerd by proclamation to any could bring in Terenius, or Infortunius his head. Thus, was Selarinus deliuerd, by the vertue of worth, from inticement, and by loue from danger to be tempted, to wrong a con∣stanter louer of him. Philistella, how art thou ingaged to praise Terenius, and his fortune, to bring freedome to thy loue? but how much more to honour that chast affection in him? which could not be wrought to wrong thee, nor to giue consent so much as to it. Thus he free, the Queene in her rage and fury sent for the Youth his Squire, who she threatned to execute, if hee did not vow, and performe it, to deliuer Infortunius into her hands againe, dead or a∣liue; or if she had his head, it would be sufficient satisfaction. Hee swore hee would, and so tooke his leaue, following his Lord, till hee gaind the Castle, where he remaind some dayes to consult vpon the affaires of Albania, where it was concluded, that the army should passe that way, and ioyne with them, and if they had resistance to begin there. Thus they concluded, by which time infinite numbers of men came vnto them. The Squire to performe his promise, got a head made to the life for Selarinus, which so iustly resembled him, as none at first could thinke it was other then his fleshly, pale, death-like was the complexion, the eyes settled, the mouth a little opener then vsually, the haire of the same colour, but so much wanting the cleare brightnesse, as a dead mans haire will want of a liuing mans, the bloud as trickling downe out of the vaines, some spinning, and so naturally was all done to the life, as cunning could not performe more. When this was ready, and the army mar∣ching to the confines of that kingdom, to welcome the Moreans, the Squire tooke this head, and wept to see it, being so like, though he knew the contra∣ry,

and saw his Lord by. Into a coffer of Ciprus, of purpose made, he shut it vp, with some lines written by his Lords directions; then gaue he charge for the deliuering of it, to a yong desperate fellow, who cared not for his life, or had so much wit, as to know how to saue himselfe, withall, some mony hee gaue him, gold blinding all sight of danger from him. This mad man went to the Court, when he arriu'd there, and demanded for the Queene, answere was made, she could not be seene. Shee must be seene by me, cry'd he, and so tell her, for I haue brought her a token she wil ioy to see. This being told her, she rosse, and sending for the man to her, he deliuerd the present, naild and sealed as it was giuen him. She demanded what it was? The head you desird, said he, sent by the Squire; then claimd he his reward, she granted it, and hauing discharg'd him, he departed, glad of his good fortunes, & so hasted away for ••eare of recall. She straight cald the Court together, and being al assembled in the hal, she came in, two of her greatest Lords carrying the coffer before her; then made she a solemne speech, telling them what wrong ••he had sustaind by the cosenage of the stranger, and yet that none of them would (to right her) take so much paines, as a meere stranger had done for her, faithfully dischar∣ging his word vnto her, for here (said she) is Infortunius his head, the head of that traitor, who betrayd my loue and content. Then was the coffer opened, one of the Ladies (who attended her that night of her louing visit) holding a bason of pure gold to receiue it in, framd of purpose to hold it for euer, shee determining to keepe it, as a testimony of falshood, to be shewed to all men, and the cruell example for it. All at the first sight imagined it his, but hand∣ling it, found the deceit, which she did not so soone as others (yet durst none be the discouerers, but her owne eies which proceeded in cosening her) for shee was busily reading some lines, which were laid vpon the face of him, which were to this purpose.

To witnes faith is eternal, I performe this part, in part of your commands, the head of Infortunius I send you, which may be cald so, since he is dead, and that braue body liues to the honour of the earth, and Albania's goood, famous Selarinus. The first name as counterfeit, so is this head, the other true, will let you and Epirus know, the wrong he suffered by imprisonment.

How now (cryd she) nothing but treason and deceit? Infortunius turnd to be Selarinus, and my shame for rashly louing discouerd to mine enemy? then ••lung she away into her chamber, vowed to make no shew of reuenge, since said she, nothing can come to me but misfortune. Vext & angry she remaind, fed on her owne curstnes and scorne, hated food, as being too meane a helpe for her to receiue after such an affront; in sum, she pind with meere ill nature and disposition of body & mind, so as she fel into a feuer, and willfully would not be ruld, who she said, was borne to rule, and so brought her selfe to the last act: then beholding deaths vglines, she would not die, nor could she han∣somly, for she would haue liued, if possibly; but 'twas too late; & so too soone by her owne desire, and yet vnwillingly she ended her daies, iust as the armies met; but Selarinus had in the meane time assur'd Philistella of his safety, which was so welcome to her, as the other was contrary to Olixia. Now had Epirus anciently belonged to the Kings of Albania, being annexed vnto that Crowne by a match, which the good and honest Terenius alleaging, and none standing for the Crowne, nor heire being left of those, who vniustly held it, the Crowne was by Steriamus consent, and the whole Armie, set

vpon Selarinus his head. Then went they to the cheife Citty, and after marched toward Albania, all wishing for Amphilanthus, and none being able to tell what was become of him; most coniecturing, that hee was gone to release Selarinus, but then he must haue beene heard of in those parts; others that hee was calld away vpon some aduentures, because the night before, a strange Squire deliuered him a letter, since which time hee was not heard off.

Steriamus was loath to beginne without him, the rest aduised not to stay, being assured hee would make all hast after them. Then met they with the Italian Army, and so ioyn'd; then likewise came the Romanian Army, led by the King himselfe, who told Parselius, that Antissias was gone to vi∣site Pamphilia, wherof hee was very glad, since his sister might enioy so good company. With him came Dolorindus, for after hee had beheld her picture which Polarchos brought, hee was neuer free from her affection, he being the yellow Knight, that had the ill fortune to receiue the worst in the Court of Morea; yet was that seruice a meanes to bring him to Antissi∣as fauor, for hee taking that occasion to let her know his affection, she en∣tertained him, being assured of her first loues losse, yet vowed she to see him once againe, or write to him, before shee would wedde Dolorindus. Besides, shee had engaged him by oath, to performe one seruice shee would employ him in when sh••e demanded it, and that done shee would marry him. He contented himselfe with that hope, which proued as emp∣ty as it selfe; without gaine, so farr as that prom••se did ingage her, yet hee after enioyed her.

All the famous Princes met, the question was, who should command in cheife ouer all. Parselius had the Moreans, Amphilanthus was to com∣mand his Italians, which without comparison were the brauest, and best order'd, Rosindy the Macedonians, Leandrus the Achaians, Selarinus the Epe∣rians, Antissius his Romanians, Dolo••••••dus those hee brought from his King∣dome of Negropont, wherof hee now raigned King. Other troops there were, wherof the chiefe of their owne Country commanded, but ouer all, as it was then resolu'd, Steriamus, for whom all these were ioyn'd, should haue the power, and name of Generall. Hee was loath to take it vpon him, so many Kings there, and himselfe hauing no army of his owne. All his arguments were turn'd to his honor, and gaine of that place, which he with much respect, and care accepted. Imagine how braue a Prince he now is, and what ioy this would be to his Vrania, to see her Steriamus command fiue Kings, besides innumerable Princes, Dukes, Earles, and valiant Knights. But the first and brauest King her brother, was not yet come, nor could there be iust guesse where he was; yet on the Army marched, newes being brought them that Plamergus had taken a strong passage, to defend, and hin∣der their passing further into the Country.

This Plamergus was one that enioyed a part, and that part of Albania, ha∣uing in times past beene a seruant to the l••st true King: but ingratitude, of all faults the greatest, beeing such as it reacheth to a sinne, he was infected, and possessed with. The braue Steriamus call'd his magnanimious Councell together, where it was resolu'd that he should be fought withall, and that Antissius with the Romanians should haue the honor of the Vantguard,

and so it was agreed vpon. The next daies march brought them within sight of their enemy, but together they could not com, a great Riuer parting them, and he hauing throwne downe the bridge in spight. On the other side the Country was hilly, (if not more properly to say mountaynous) and not one, but many straight wayes, so as iudgment was heere required to equall va∣lor and direct it. Their first resolution therfore was alter'd, & as there were fiue wayes, so they deuided themselues into fiue deuisions. The Italians Ste∣riamus tooke, ioyning Dolorindus with him, and so determined to take the middle way. The King of Macedon was to take the first way on the right hand, and Parselius on the left. Antissius to goe on that side with Parselius; and Selarinus with Leandrus, were put to the last on the side with Rosindy. Much did Leandrus grudge at this, that his riuall (as he deem'd him) should bee matched with him, wherfore he began to repine at it, till the rest told him, that he was ioynd with him, only out of respect that he was one of those two, for whom all this quarrell was. Hardly this could preuaile with him; wherfore Steriamus discerning it, chang'd the order, taking the forces which Selarinus had there of Epirus into his diuision, and sent those of Negropont to Leandrus: but because Dolorindus was a King, his Leiue••enant went with them, and himselfe stayed with the Generall.

The next care was how to passe the Riuer, which might haue beene the first, considering that was like the barr, let downe at Barryers to stay the combat, and such a barr was this, as all their iudgments were called to coun∣cell, how to avoyd the danger, and passe the water, on the other side wher∣of was the desired fruit. At last Steriamus gaue this aduice, that they should cut downe part of a wood, along the side of which they had ma••ched, & lay those trees close together, then fa••ten them with chaines one to another, and so lastly all together, and passe ouer some first in the night, who might both helpe to fasten the trees on that side, and if they were discouered, hold some play with them till the army pass'd. This was well liked, and his aduice ap∣plauded, so was the practise instantly put in hand, and by morning (many making quick worke) the Army passed. At breake of day the Enemie dis∣couered them, which amazed them, for so many they went in front as they couered the trees and so thicke they came, as if they had walked on the wa∣ter; the enemie apprehended feare, which was as terrible to them, as if a wife went out confident to meete her husband, to ioy with him, and incoun∣ters him slaine: so were they wedded to assurance of safety, and vnmarryed by this stratageme.

But Plamergus gathered his spirits together, and so drew his men into the heart of the straights, where he could compell them to fight, and most wrong our men, not being able to goe aboue three in front; besides his hor••e he placed on the side of the hills, most aduantagiously for them, but ha••me∣full to vs, had not fortune fauored, and made Antissius the instrument; for hee something forwarder then the rest, hauing got his Army ouer, and put them in battell, marched on, and comming to the entry of the passage, per∣ceiued the place filled with the plāks, & posts of the bridge, which they had enuiously pull'd downe, those hee tooke vp, and as a certaine foretelling of their successe, made vse of the benefit, commanding his soldiers to carry them to the Riuer, and laying them vpon the tree-made-bridge, made a rea∣sonable

way for the horse to goe on; now was there noe want, horse, and foote being placed. Then were the horse likewise diuided, and the hills giuen them, so as on hills, and in the valleyes, the enemy was answered with forces. But now it is time to leaue these affaires to Mars, and let his Mistris haue her part awhile who alwayes, and at all times hath some share in busi∣nesses, Pamphiliia in her owne Country contented, because as shee thought safe in the happinesse of her loue, though tormented with the burthen of ab∣sence, one day walked into a Parke she had adioyning•• to her Court; when shee was within it, shee commanded her seruants to attend her returne, her selfe taking a path which brought her into a delicate thicke wood, a booke shee had with her, wherin she read a while, the subiect was Loue, and the story she then was reading, the affection of a Lady to a braue Gentleman, who equally loued, but being a man, it was necessary for him to exceede a woman in all things, so much as inconstancie was found fit for him to excell her in, hee left her for a new. Poore loue said the Queene, how doth all sto∣ryes, and euery writer vse thee at their pleasure, apparrelling thee according to their various fancies? canst thou suffer thy selfe to be thus put in cloathes, ••ay raggs instead of vertuous habits? punish such Traytors, and cherrish mee thy loyall subiect who will not so much as keepe thy iniuries neere me; then threw she away the booke, and walked vp and downe, her hand on her heart, to feele if there were but the motion left in the place of that shee had so freely giuen, which she found, and as great, and braue an one in the stead of it, her seruants dwelling there, which more then hers she valued, and deerely held in her best dearest breast, which still sent sweetest thoughts to her imagination, euer seeing his loue, and her's as perfectly, and curiously twined, as Iuye, which growne into the wall it ascends, cannot but by break∣ing, and so killing that part, be seuer'd: not like the small corne that yeelds forth many staulks, and many eares of wheat out of one, making a glorious bunch of diuers parts: this affection was but one in truth, and being as come from one roote, or gaine of matchlesse worth, brought forth but one flower, whose delicacy, and goodnesse was in it selfe. Many flowers shewes as faire as a Rose to the eye, but none so sweete: so were many loues as braue in shew, but none so sweetely chast, and therefore rich in worth; this inhabited, and was incorporat in them both, who as one, and as it were with one soule both did breath and liue.

Sweete wood said she beare record with me, neuer knew I but his loue. Loue, answered the wood being graced with an Echo. Soft said she, shall I turne blabb? no Echo, excuse me, my loue and choyce more precious, and more deere, then thy proud youth must not be named by any but my selfe, none being able to name him else, as none so iust, nor yet hath any eare (ex∣cept his owne) heard me confesse who gouerns me; thy vast, and hollow selfe shall not be first, where fondest hopes must rest of secresie in thee, who to each noise doth yeeld an equall grace. As none but we doe truely loue, so none but our owne hearts shall know we loue. Then went shee a little fur∣ther, and on a stub, which was betweene two trees, she sate downe, letting the one serue as the backe of a chayer to rest vpon: the other to hold her dainty feete against; Her armes she folded on her breast, as embracing his braue heart, or rather wrapping it within her armes. Deere hart said ••hee,

when shall I liue againe, beholding his loued eyes? can I in possibility de∣serue ought? he not here, am I aliue? no, my life is with him, a poore weake shadow of my selfe remaines; but I am other where. Poore people, how are you deceiued, that thinke your Queene is here? alas tis nothing so, shee is farre off, it may be in the field performing famous acts, it may be on the Sea passing to fetch more fame, or indeed speaking with thy selfe, as I discourse to him, his time employd in thoughts of loue like mine, and so he thinking of me, brings vs both together in absence, present when distance is, and absent oft in greatest companies. But dost thou thinke on me deare loue? thy heart doth tell me so, and I belieue it as tis thine and mine. Sweet hope to see him flatter mee, but pay for such an error, and make good the ioy I take in thee; blesse my poore eyes with seeing his, that make mine lowest slaues to his commands, yet greatest Princes since so prised by him; Let these hands once be blessed againe by touching his, and make this Kingdome rich by bringing him, the truth of riches to her; let mee enioy those louing lookes, which in me force content beyond it selfe, smile in those eyes, which sparkle in desire, to make me see, they striue to expresse, what flames the heart doth hold of loue to me. Doe I not answere them? let me then straight be blind, depri∣ued of that ioy of sight, and happinesse of ioy, for that alone in him, and from him can I haue.

And thou most kind and welcome memory, adde to my soule delight, the sweete remembrance of our perfect loues, bring to the passionate eyes of my imaginary sight those pleasures wee haue had, those best spent houres, when we each other held in sweet discourse: what wanted then but length of deare enioying, when his deare breath deliuerd vnto me, the onely blessing I on earth did couet, telling me he was mine, and bid me be assured when he was other, he must not be liuing, death must only alter him from mee, and me from him, for other can I not, or will I be. Sweet memory tis true, hee vowed this, nay tooke mee in his armes, and sware, that he embracing me, had all the earthly riches this world could afford him; so thought I by him•• thus still you see one thought, one loue still gouerns him and me, are wee not most properly one? and one loue betweene vs, make vs truly one?

Further she had proceeded and run on, to infinitenesse of content in these imaginations, but from them she must be taken, to be honord with the pre∣sence of her brauest Cosin, for then came one of her seruants (who knew, that breach of obedience in such a kind would bee pardoned) telling her, that the King of Naples was come to visit her. She quickly rose, nor did shee chide the man, who surely had been sorely shent for troubling her, had any other cause brought him, and so disturbd her amorous thoughts. As shee returned, Amphilanthus met her, their eyes saluted first, then followed all the other ceremonies that do befit so sit a welcome.

To the Palace they came, where nothing wanted to manifest the cer∣taine gouernement that hee held there, hee being the Prince shee most respected; but whom shee loued, shee neuer would to any other once confesse. With delicate discourse they passed the time, shee neuer satisfi∣ed with hearing of his acts, yet neuer vngrieued when she heard of danger, al∣though past, still curious of his good. Some daies they thus remained, when newes was brought, Antissia was arriu'd. My Lord (said shee), are you

not happy now, that in this place you shall behold your loue? The assurance of that happines (said he) did bring me hither from that royall Campe. She was no whit displeased with this reply; the next morning Antissia came to the Court; the King holding the Queene by the hand, met her at the gate. Antissia was so much ioy'd, as she was but that cosening thing it selfe, rauish∣ed with false delight; she triumphed in the blaze, while the true fire burnt more solidly, and in another place. She was conducted to the Palace, Pam∣philia with her left arme embracing her, holding Amphilanthus with the right hand. Into the Hall they came, where choice of musick entertaind them: Antissia neuer more pleased, Pamphilia seldome so well contented, and Am∣philanthus e••ioying too his wish. Antissia gazed on him, and happy was when she could catch one looke cast on her, out of which shee found millions of sweet conceits, coniecturing, that by that looke he told her, she had still the whole command of him, as once she had. Dissembling enemy to perfect rest, vaine hope thou art, why didst thou cousen her, and after thy deludings, let her fall from that height to cruellest despaire? As the variety was great, and pleasing of the musick, so were their thoughts euery one moouing in their owne Spheare. Antissia as her ioy was most excessiue, as more vnruly to bee gouernd, by how much her strength of iudgement was inferior to the other two, she could least keepe silence, but began discourse, and still continued so, as she contented them exceedingly, who while shee talked, discoursed with eyes and hearts, her ouer-esteemd good fortune, taking most of her iudging sences from her. Amphilanthus with gratefull respect carried himselfe to her liking sufficiently, whose beliefe was such of him, as she tooke all to her selfe, and so tooke the iniuries for courresies.

Some dayes this continued, but now the time for the Kings departure drew neere, the day before which hee spake to Pamphilia for some Verses of hers, which he had heard of. She granted them, and going into her Cabinet to fetch them, he would needs accompany her; shee that was the discreetest fashiond woman, would not deny so small a fauour. When they were there, she tooke a deske, wherein her papers lay, and kissing them, deliuered all shee had saued from the fire, being in her owne hand vnto him, yet blushing told him, she was ashamed, so much of her folly should present her selfe vnto his eyes.

He told her, that for any other, they might speake for their excellencies, yet in comparison of her excelling vertues, they were but shadowes to set the others forth withall, and yet the best he had seene made by woman: but one thing (said he) I must find fault with, that you counterfeit louing so well, as if you were a louer, and as we are, yet you are free; pitie it is you suffer not, that can faigne so well. She smild, and blusht, and softly said (fearing that he or her selfe should heare her say so much) Alas my Lord, you are deceiued in this for I doe loue. He caught her in his armes, she chid him not, nor did so much as frowne, which shewed she was betrayd.

In the same boxe also he saw a little tablet lie, which, his vnlooked for dis∣course had so surpressed her, as shee had forgot to lay aside. He tooke it vp•• and looking in it, found her picture curiously drawne by the best hand of that time; her haire was downe, some part curld, some more plaine, as naturally it hung, of great length it seemd to bee, some of it comming vp againe, shee

held in her right hand, which also she held vpon her heart, a wastcoate shee had of needle worke, wrought with those flowers she loued best. He beheld it a good space, at last shutting it vp, told her, he must haue that to carry with him to the field. She said, it was made for her sister. Shee may haue others said he, let me haue this. You may command, my Lord, said she. This done, they came forth againe, and so went to ••ind Antissia, who was gone into the Parke, they followed her, and ouertooke her in the Wood, where they sat downe, euery one discoursing of poore Loue, made poore by such perpetuall vsing his name. Amphilanthus began, but so sparingly he spake, as one would doe, who would rather cleare, then condemne a friend. Pamphilia followed, and much in the same kind. Antissia was the last, and spake enough for them both, b••ginning her story thus.

I was till sixteene yeares of age so troubled, or busied with continuall mis∣fortunes, as I was ingrafted into them; I saw no face that me thought brought not new, or rather continuance of perplexity, how was libertie then priz'd by me? enuy almost creeping into me against such, as felt freedome; for none was so slauish as I deemd my selfe; betraid, sold, stolne, almost dishono∣red, these aduerse fortunes I ranne, but from the last you rescued me, and sa∣ued your seruant Antissia, to liue fit to be commanded by you; yet gaue you not so great a blessing alone, but mixt it, or suffered mixture in it: for no soo∣ner was I safe, but I was as with one breath pardoned, and condemned againe subiect, and in a farre stricter subiection: you braue King deliuerd mee from the hands of Villans, into the power of Loue; whither imagine you, is the greater bondage, the latter the nobler, but without question as full of vexati∣on.

But to leaue these things, loue possessed me, loue tirannized, and doth com∣mand me; many of those passions I felt in Morea, and whereof you most ex∣cellent Queene haue been witnesse, but none so terrible, as absence hath since wrought in me, Romania being to me like the prison, appointed to con∣taine me, and my sorrowes. One day among many other, I went to the sea side through a Walke, which was priuate and delicate, leading from the Court at Constantinople to the sea; there I vsed to walke, and passe much time vpon the sands, beholding ships that came in, and boates that came ashoare, and many times fine passengers in them, with whom I would discourse as an indifferent woman, not acknowledging my greatnes, which brought mee to the knowledge of many pretty aduentures, but one especially, which happe∣ned in this kind,

A ship comming into the Harbor, but being of too great burden to come ashoare, in the long boat the passengers came, and landed on the sands; I be∣held them, among whom was one, whose face promised an excellent wit and spirit, but that beauty she had had, was diminished, so much only left, as to shew she had been beautifull. Her fashion was braue, and confident; her countenance sweet, and graue; her speech mild and discreet; the company with her were some twenty that accompanied her, the number of seruants answerable to their qualities. Thus they came on towards vs; I sent to know who they were, and of what Country (for their habits said, they were not Greekes). The reply was they were of Great Brittany, and that the chiefe Lady was a widdow, and sister to the Embassador that lay Leigeir there for

the King of that Countrey. I had heard much fame of the Ladies of that Kingdome for all excellencies which made mee the more desire to bee ac••quainted with her, yet for that time let it passe, till a fitter opportunity, which was soone offered me, for within few dayes she desired to bee permitted to kisse my hands. I willingly granted it, longing to heare some things of Brit∣tany; when she came, I protest, shee behaued her selfe so excellently finely, as me thought, I enuied that Countrey where such good fashion was. After this, shee desirous of the honour to be with me often, and I embracing her desire, louing her conuersation, we grew so neere in affection, as wee were friends, the neerest degree that may be. Many times we walked together, and downe the same walke where first we met with our eyes; one day wee fell into discourse of the same subiect we now are in, freely speaking as wee might, who so well knew each other, she related the story of her loue thus.

I was (said shee) sought of many, and beloued (as they said) by them, I was apt enough to beleeue them, hauing none of the worst opinions of my selfe, yet not so good an one as aspired to pride; and well enough I was plea∣sed to see their paines, and without pitty to be pleased with them: but then loue saw with iust eyes of iudgement that I deserued punishmēt for so much guilty neglect, wherefore in fury he gaue me that cruell wound with a poy∣soned dart, which yet is vncured in my heart; for being free, and bold in my freedome, I gloried like a Mary gold in the Sun. but long this continued not, my end succeeding, like the cloasing of that flowre with the Sunnes setting. What shal I say, braue Princess? I lou'd, and yet continue it, all the passions which they felt for me, I grew to commiserat, and compare with mine; free I was in discourse with my reiected suiters, but onely because I desired to heare of it, which so much rul'd me, like a Souldier that ioyes in the trumpet which summons him to death. Those houres I had alone, how spent I them? if otherwise then in deare thoughts of loue, I had deserued to haue beene forsaken. Sometimes I studied on my present ioyes, then gloried in my absent: triumphed to thinke how I was sought, how by himselfe inuited, nay implor'd to pitty him, I must confesse not wonne, as most of vs by words, or dainty fashion, rich cloathes, curiositie, in curious∣nes, these wonne me not; but a noble mind, a free disposition, a braue, and manly countenance, excellent discourse, wit beyond compare, all these ioynd with a sweete, and yet Courtier-like dainty Courtshippe, but a respe∣ctiue loue & neglectiue affection conquered me. He shewed enough to make me see he would rather aske then deny, yet did not, scorning refusall as well he might; free gift was what he wished, and welcom'd, daintynes had lost him, for none cold winne or hold him, that came not halfe way at the least to meete his loue, I came much more, and more I lou'd, I still was brought more to confirme his by my obedience. I may boldly, and truly confesse, that what with his liking, and my obseruing, I liued as happy in his loue as euer any did, and bless'd with blessings, as if with fasts, and prayers obtain'd.

This happines set those poore witts I haue to worke, and so to set in some braue manner forth my true-felt blisse, among the cheifest wayes I found ex∣pression in verse, a fine and principall one, that I followed, for he loued verse, and any thing that worthy was or good, or goodnes loued him so much as she dwelt in him, and as from ancient Oracles the people tooke direction, so

gouernd he the rest by his example or precept, & from the continual flowing of his vertues was the Country inriched, as Egypt by the flowing of Nile gaines plenty to her fields: But I a poore weake creature, like the Ant, that though she know how to prouide, yet doth it so, as all discerne her craft: so I, although I sought the meanes to keepe this treasure, and my selfe from steruing, yet so foolishly I behaued my selfe, as indaingerd my losse, and wonne all enuy to mee; I considered not, I might haue kept, and saued, but I would make prouision before such, as might be certaine of my riches. This vndid mee, carrying a burthen, which not weight••er then I might wel beare, was too much seene, an empty trunke is more troblesome then a bag of gold; so did my empty wit lead me to the trouble of discouery, & chang∣ing the golden waight of ioy to the leaden, and heauy dispaire; but that came many yeares after my happines, for seauen yeares I was blest, but then, O me, pardon me great Princesse cryd shee, I must not proceed, for neuer shall these lipps that spake his loue, that kiss'd his loue, discouer what befell me. Speake then said I, of these sweete dayes you knew, & touch not on his fault; mine deere Lady cryed she, it of force must be, hee could not err, I did, hee was and is true worth, I folly, ill desert; he brauenesse mixt with sweetnesse, I ignorance, and weaknesse; hee wisdoms selfe, I follyes Mistris. Why what offence gaue you said I, speake of your owne? I cannot name that, but it must (replid she) bring the other on, for how can I say I saw the clowd, but I must feele the showre, therefore O pardon mee, I will not blame him, I alone did ill, and suffer still, yet thus farre I will satisfie you. Hauing search'd with crurious, and vnpartiall iudgment, what I did, and how I had offended him, I found I was to busie, and did take a course to giue offence, when most I hoped to keepe, I grew to doubt him to, if iustly, yet I did amisse, and rather should haue suffered then disliked. I thought by often letting him behold the paine I did endure for being blessd, tooke away al the blessing, wearying him, when that I hoped should haue indeered him: but that though somtimes is away, yet not alwayes to be practised, too much businesse, and too many ex∣cuses, made me past excuse. I thought, or feard, or foolishly mistrusted, hee had got an other loue; I vnder other mens reports as I did faigne did speake my owne mistrust, whether he found it, or being not so hot in flames of yong affection, (growne now old to me) as once he was, gaue not such satisfaction, as I hoped to haue, but coldly bidde mee be assur'd, hee lou'd mee still, and seem'd to blame me, said I slact my loue, and told mee I was not so fond.

This I did falsly take like a false fier, and did worke on that, so as one night hee comming to my Chamber as hee vsed, after a little talke hee was to goe, and at his going stoop'd and kiss'd, mee. I did answere that so foolishly, (for modestly I cannot call it, since it was a fauour I esteem'd, and nere refus'd to take:) hee apprehended it for scorne, and started back, but from that time, vnfortunate I, liued but little happier then you see me now. Pamphilia smild to heare her come to that; the King was forc'd to co∣uer his conceits, and wish her to proceed. She tooke her selfe, pray God said shee, I doe not play the Brittaine Lady now. They both then did in∣treat to heare the rest; that soone you may said shee, for this was all, only in a finer manner, and with greater passion shee did then conclude.

They found she was not pleas'd, therefore they sought some other way to please, and rising walked into an other wood, and so vnto a pond, which they did fish, and passe the time with all, while poore Antissia thought herselfe each fish, & Amphilanthus stil the nette that caught her, in all shapes, or fashions she could be framed in.

Then came his going, all the night before, his whole discourse, and man∣ner was to purchase still more loue, greedy, as couetous of such gaine; hee wished not any thing that he enioyed not, all was as hee wished. At supper poore Antissias eyes were neuer off from him, she did lament his going, her heart wept; hee looked as glad to see she lou'd him still, (for what man liues, that glories not in multitudes of womens loues?) so he, though now neither fond nor louing to her, yet seem'd to like her loue, if only that his might be the more prized, wonne from so braue and passionate a Lady; and thus she often caught his eyes, which on what condition soeuer, yet being on her, were esteem'd, and gaue content, as debters doe with faire words, to procure their Creditors to st••y a longer time,: so did she, but prolonging the time in her torments to her greater losse. Amphilanthus being to depart, offer'd to take his leaue, but Pamphillia refused it, telling him she would bee ready the next morning before his going, which she was, and with Antissia, brought him a mile or more from the Court into a Forrest, then tooke leaue, hee making all hast to the Campe.

The Ladyes to auoyd idlenesse, the Queene especially to preuent friuo∣lous discourse, called for her hounds, and went to hunt a Stagg; it was a sport shee loued well, and now the better, presenting it selfe so fitly to her seruice. The Rainger told her of a great Deere, which he saw in a wood as hee came to her; she followed him, and so vncoupling the Dogs, put them into the wood. The Stagge came forth with as much scorne, and contempt in his face, and fashion as a Prince, who should rather be attended then pur∣sued, hating that such poore things as hounds should meddle with him, as if hee were rather to be attended then hunted. But quickly he was made to ac∣knowledge that he was Pamphilias subiect, and by yeelding his life as a sa∣crifice for his presumption, shewed if hee had not beene a beast, he had soo∣ner acknowledged it, both in dutie to her, and for his honor, which he could receiue but by letting her delicate hand, cut open his breast, there to see it written. But during the hunting he was yet more vnhappy, for the most excellent Queene after one round, scarce made him happy with pursuing him, taking into a Groue, faigning an excuse, and there lighting, pass'd most part of the time in calling her thoughts into strict examination; which when she had done, she found them so true, as she could see none to accuse the least of them, or the busiest, for being a thoughts time seuer'd from her loue.

When shee found them so iust, Deere companions in my solitarynes, said she, furnish me with your excellency in constancy, and I will serue you with thankfull loyalty. Then tooke she a knife, and in the rine of an Oake inscul∣ped a sypher, which contained the letters, or rather the Anagram of his name shee most and only lou'd. By that time the Stagge came by, grieued at her vnkindnesse, that shee would not honor his death with her presence; which shee by his pittifull countenance perceiuing, tooke her horse againe,

and came in to his death. As shee returned, Antissia told her she was much alter'd, for once she knew her so fond of that sport, as she loued it more then ••ny delight: shee desired her to haue a more noble opinion of her, then to thinke she was subiect to change, which was a thing she so in finitly hated, as she would abhorr her owne soule, when it left louing what it once had loued.

That was not hunting sure said Antissia, for you loue not that so well as first you did. Enter not into my loue sweete Princesse said she. I will neuer offend you answered the other; so home they went each going to her Chamber, Antissia in as great a rage as when she mistrusted Rosindy to bee Amphilanthus, but more discreetly she now carried it, Pamphilia to her lodgings where shee remain'd till they were called to dinner; the Queene with the greatest respect in the world entertaning Antissia, whose heart now fill'd with enuy, receiued it with no more delight, then one would doe a bit∣ter potion, yet was her fashion sweetned with discretion: for the time shee stayed which was not long, taking her way to Romania: whither being ar∣riued, she cald her sad but froward thoughts together, thanking her Fate, that brought her to see Amphilanthus, but cursing her Desteny that gaue her assurance of his change. Oh my heart said she, how canst thou beare these torments, and yet hold, continually furnished with new discontents? accursed eyes that made thee subiect to so excellent falshood, & so pleasing deceit. Pamphilia, I confesse that thou art most excellent, and meriting all, but yet not comparable (were thy selfe only vertue) to make vp the losse, that Amphilanthus hath lost, and broken in his faith, and worth, Faire, and deere gaining eyes, why smile you still in your disguising loue, betrayers of my liberty? why ioyne you hope together with your selues not to be seene, much lesse beheld with freedome? only like the fauning Crocadile to win, and kill? deere lips that seem'd to open but to let the hearts desirs to come vnto mine eares, seuerd you deceitfully your selues to ruine me? that onely excellent, and loued breath, could it be thought it should proue poyson to my choycest blisse? far-well delights, the truest flatterers, and thou dispaire infold me, I am thine. Then writ she certaine verses, they were these.

I Who doe feele the highest part of griefe, shall I be left without reliefe? I who for you, doe cruell torments beare, will you alasse leaue me in feare? Know comfort neuer could more welcome bee, then in this needfull time to mee, One drop of comfort will be higher prized then seas of ioyes, if once despiz'd, Turne not the tortures which for you I try vpon my hart, to make me dye. Haue I offended? 'twas at your desire, when by your vowes you felt loues fire. What I did erre in, was to please your will can you get, and the ofspring kill?

The greatest fault, which I committed haue is you did aske, I freely gaue. Kindly relent, let causlesse curstnes flye, giue but one sigh, I bless'd shall dye. But O you cannot, I haue much displeas'd striuing to gaine, I losse haue seaz'd. My state I see, and you your ends haue gain'd I'me lost since you haue me obtain'd. And since I cannot please your first desire I'le blow, and nourish scorners fire As Salimanders in the fire doe liue: so shall those flames my being giue. And though against your will, I liue and moue, forsaken creatures liue and loue Doe you proceed, and you may well confesse you wrong'd my care, while I care lesse.

With great spleene against him, and affection to her selfe for her braue∣nesse, she read these lines ouer againe; but then whether iudgment of see∣ing them but poore ones, or humble loue telling her she had committed trea∣son to that throne, moued her, I cannot iustly tell, but some thing there was that so much molested her as she leap'd from her stoole, ranne to the fire, threw in the paper, cryd out, pardon me great Queene of loue I am guilty. I plead no other; mercy take on me thy poorest vassall, I loue still, I must loue still, and him, and only him, although I be forsaken. The sweete Riuers she visited and on their banks continually did lye, and weepe, and chid her eyes because they wept no faster, seeing them but drop vnto the streame. My heart said she yeelds more plentifull & deere shed teares then you. Alas Antissia how doe I pitty thee? how doe I still lament thy hap, as if a stranger? for I am not she, but meere disdaine, yet then she stayd, soft fury, cry'd she, I must not permit your harshnesse to creepe into my heart; no I shall neuer hate, I lou'd too much, and doe to alter now. Then tooke she forth a picture hee had giuen her willingly when she did aske it; that she wept on, kiss'd it, wip't it, wept, and wip't, and kiss'd againe. Alas that thou alone said she the shadow should be true, when the true substance is so false; cold Cristall, how well doth thy coldnesse sute his loue to mee, which once was hot, now col∣der then thy selfe; but were it chast like thee I yet were bless'd, for 'tis not losse alone but change that martyrs me. The picture she then shut, and put it where it was, which was vpon her heart, she there continually did cherish it, and that still comfort her, when by it shee did see hee had loued her, and though now quite bereaued of happines in that, yet did that cleere her from the folly, idle loue without reward had else condemned her in. Oft would shee read the papers she had gaind from him in his owne hand, and of his making, though not all to her, yet being in that time she did not feare, shee tooke them so, and so was satisfied. Read them she did euen many millions of times, then lay them vp againe, and (as her greatest priz'd and only bless∣ing left) kept them still neere, apt many times to flatter her poore selfe with

hope he had not cleane left her, who did so kindly let her keepe those things, contrary to his manner with others, as he reported to her self, for from them he tooke at v••rying all they had of his•• as from Lucenia, who hee told, shee could not esteeme of his shadow, so little prizing the substance; but thē as ma∣ny bold assurances told her, she was deceiued. The Meads she much frequen∣ted, walking in their plaines, especially shee did affect one, more then all the rest, a Willow tree growing in the midst, and plentifully spreading branches, witnessing forsakennes round about, so as she might be held in that sad shade from the heat of Sun-hope-ioy. Miserable Antissia (waild she her selfe), in how few yeares hast thou made a shift to see the whole world of misfortune? yet of the worst, and the only worst, is disdaine and losse in loue. Then car∣ued she in the trunke of that tree, till she had imbroiderd it all ouer with cha∣racters of her sorrow: in the crowne of this tree she made a seat big enough for her selfe to sit in•• the armes, and branches incompassing her, as if shee were the hat to weare the Crowne of Willow, or they were but the flowers of it, and her selfe the forsaken compasse, out of which so large and flourishing a crowne of despised loue proceeded, so as take it either way, shee was either crownd, or did crowne that wretched estate of losse, a pitifull honor, and griefefull goue••••ment: but this was the reward for her affection, and which most poore louing women purchase. Melysinda was yet more fortunate, for within some two moneths after Amphilanthus his departure, her husband by a bruise he receiued at the Iusts held there, had an Impostume bred with∣in him, which was not discouerd, till helpe was past, so as he died, leauing her a braue and faire Widdow. Good nature made her sorry for him, but shee tooke it not so heauily (though teares she shed) as to giue cause to the world to lament the marring of so excellent beauty for the losse of a husband, who if he could haue been by sorrow brought againe, there had been reason for it, but otherwise shee must haue run into the danger of being thought vnrea∣sonable too much to sorrow, and as if dislike, what heauenly powers willd: wherefore obediently to them, and discreetly to the world, she grieued suffi∣ciently for him, keeping as strict a course of mourning, as the most curious could not thinke it in any place or manner too little.

She saw no man in two moneths after his death, the first were the Counsell, in which time they had gouernd; then came shee forth to them into a priuate roome, where they onely were, her face couerd below the eyes with a Scarfe throwne carelessely ouer (not a Vaile, for so much finenesse had been much, and too little mourning) another piece of mour∣ning came, and couered her chinne to her lippes, and a little past: her Gowne made with a wide long sle••ue to the ground, was of blacke Cloth, a Mantle ouer it of the same, to which was a Trai••ie, carried by two Ladies of her Bed-chamber likewise in cloth, but their faces bare; the whole Court hung with Cloth; no Roome that mourned not, as if each had a particular losse, no people of the Court, or that came to the Court, but were in that dolefull liuery, Embassadours from all king∣domes to condole.

And thus she liued, till Ollorandus came vnto her six moneths after, which hindred his going to the army in Albania, loue euer hauing, or taking the liber∣ty to cōmand, scorning then but to be obayd, which the faire cosins, Vrania,

and Philistella made experience of, to whom the newes of Selarinus his im∣prisonment came, and presently after the happy deliuery, and Coronation of him to mitigate the ••ury of her sorrow, which was such as tormented Vra∣nia to see, whose heart was perplexed especially for parting and absence, of∣ten bursting into passions like these. Can you tell mee, you poorest eyes where my loyall heart remaines? haue you not perceiued it in his louing, and still answering lookes; from which, and in which truest beauty smiles? did it not there descry the ioy it selfe, striuing to let you knowe the place it happily obtained; playing, and making baby pastimes as it lay closed in that shrine of glory? but much more triumphed it, when you might knowe his breast embraced it, surprising the run-away, as by sweet force made his, while greatest hearts for pitty cries, and wailes neglected•• nay, so dyes. If thus you then be placed, no maruell sure you leaue my poore afflicted body desolate, where nothing but distemper, or loues paines inhabite; yet cast your lookes this way, see my petition for your safe returne, heare mee make vowes that none but you can bring content, your absence mastring mee, your presence bringing blisse; yet absent, your loued Image, and your dearest selfe remaines infigured in my chastest breast, and myrrour-like presents you to my sight, yet coldly, like a Statue made of stone: or as the picture, while loues sweetest race runs to the warmth of sight. If then remembrance, or the perfect memo∣ry of you be but a picture, whereof I am made the liuely case, faithfully kee∣ping that rich portraict, still from change or thought that relique to displace, nourishing, and with it liuing, as oyle, and lampes doe simpathise in life: each looke alluring wishings to our ioyes. Restore that life-peece now and make me bless'd, crowne my soules longing with thy grant, and come to see m••e triumph in thy dearest sight, my onely selfe, my onely loue. These passions was she in when Philistella found her in the walkes, speaking vnto her selfe, and walking with so fast, and vnused a fashion, differing from her graue, and discreet manner, as if loue had lay'd a wager with discretion, yet hee would make her at that time (to fulfill his will) forget her selfe and wholly serue him; he won that, and iudgement made her asham'd, when Philistel∣la came vnto her, and told her shee wonder'd to see her so. Loue, loue faire Philistella (cryed shee) can doe this, and more, but happy you can keepe your paines more secret, and more close; that is not, not e'er yet hath beene my hap (said she) for no eye hath beheld mee, but together sawe my loue.

No sweetest Cousin saide Vrania, wrong not your great wit with tax∣ing it vniustly, haue I not seene how prettily and with an excellent disdaine you did refuse his humble suite in loue? his eyes haue beene euen rea∣dy to burst out in teares, when you haue smiled, and changed your first discourse, as if of purpose to deny his plaints. Alasse, would I thinke happy Philistella, how art thou aboue thy sexe most fortunate? poore me, had I but one such, or the like content, it were for mee eternall happinesse while she reiecteth loue; did Steriamus loue like as his brother doth, were I not of all women blessed? but his affections, are in an other seate enthronised; these thoughts, (while you like Summer florish'd) nipp'd my dayes, yet now I praise my desteny nothing except sad absence grieueth mee, while you, whether not grieu'd, or not so louing I cannot well iudge, feele not, or shew

not that you haue the sence, which absence brings vs louers. Sweetest Vrania answerd she, my soule can tell you I dissemble not, nor did my manner, or my face couer yet my flames, when I did heare my deare and only Lord impri∣soned was, did I not faint, and loose my strength, as hating that, since not suf∣ficient to release my loue? Was not the Court distempred, and my Parents grieued, fearing my comming danger, when the harme was neerer to mee, then they could imagine? Wept I not, when the mastring griefe was passed? sighed I not still, & cryd against proud, and curst treacheries? how did I hide the boyling heate of sorrow I containd? Wau'd I not with each passion vp and downe, as boughs blowne with the wind, some times resolu'd to die, o∣ther times to liue for a reuenge, and still distracted? more I sought to turne, more fast tied still, my heart like leade in fire, melting with the heate of fury call you this discreete, and wise behauiour? could loue no better bee dissem∣bled, or the sparkes no finelier raked vp in discretion? But now I see you smile at me, while you indeed doe better, and more curiously, like cunning workemen best beguile our eyes. Its well sweet, daintiest Princesse, you may flout your friends. But said Vrania, when did you see me one whole day, and not sigh, or weepe, or steale away to do them? I heere vow vnto Loue, which vow I will not break, that neuer creature felt more paine, nor euer any more discouerd it; I doe confesse it as a weaknesse in me, but I cannot helpe it; if I did see him one poore instant space alone, me thought it was my duty to goe to him, if he spake to another, was I not, nor am I not thinke I as worthy, or as fit to talke with, as her selfe. Almost suspition oft-times grew in me, but ab∣solute fondnesse neuer was away, I doe not thinke in houres, while I haue stood at audiences, which the King hath giuen, I haue been one minute alto∣gether ioyned with my eyes held from him, I haue looked off tis true, but like a Deare at feede, start vp for feare, but straight againe returnd vnto the food, which from his eyes I tooke, yet I am secret, and discreet in loue. Neuer credit mee deare Cosin, if I speake not truth, I found not that you did requite his loue, till your owne lippes to honour me deliuered it. I shall the better credit this, and loue my fashion so much more (said Philistella), since you commend me, but in troth I spake as guiltinesse forced mee: but now wee are so free, let me be bold to aske this question; In this heate of loue, did not your former passion neuer come glancing into your eyes? could you behold Parselius with freedome, and Steriamus with affecti∣on?

I will, said Vrania (as to my confessor) tell you the truth; it was mee thought a wonderfull odde change, and passing different affection I did feele, when I did alter: for though I were freed from my first loue, and had a power to choose againe, yet was I not so amply cured from me∣morie, but that I did resemble one newly come out of a vision, distract∣ed, scarce able to tell, whether it were a fixion, or the truth; yet I re∣solued, and so by force of heauenly prouidence lost the first, and liue in second choice, and this deare soueraigne good receiued I from Leu∣cadia.

But when I had thus far proceeded, then did feare accompany my change, lest Steriamus should despise my second loue, not hauing giuen him my first as the best, which in troth in some sort he had obtaind, for I liked

him, before I loued the other. Oft did I study, how I might compasse my blessing, when for my most, and future happinesse, hee was as much engaged vnto me, and so was Melisseas Prophecy performed, for wee from death in shew rose vnto a new loue; he feared likewise, that I would scorne his gift, and after many vehement and affectionate suings, hee presented me with a little booke of Verses, among which were many to excuse himselfe, and to com∣mend a second loue, I remember one Sonnet, being this.

BLame me not dearest, though grieued for your sake, Loue mild to you, on me triumphing sits, Sifting the choysest ashes of my wits, Burnt like a Phaenix, change but such could shake.

And a new heat, giuen by your eyes did make Embers dead cold, call Spirits from the pits Of darke despaire, to fauour new felt fits, And as from death to this new choice to wake.

Loue thus crownes you with power, scorne not the flames, Though not the first, yet which as purely ries As the best light, which sets vnto our eyes, And then againe ascends free from all blames.

Purenesse is not alone in one fix'd place, Who dies to liue, finds change a happy grace.

These I did learne, for these did fit mee best, and from that time conten∣ted was to let him see, I entertaind his sute, which was his kingdome wonne in sweet delight; then was that as an Empire to my gaine, when I first saw him rudely, yet innocently clad, like a Lamb in wool for colour and softnesse to the eye, or touch his face blushing like modesty, after his arme had show∣ed manly power, his delicacie asking pitie, but his commanding absolutenes, disdaining it as much, as the bright Moone, if we should say wee were sorry in a frostie night, to see her face in the water, least she might bee cold: rather might I say, I feard the Sunne would burne him, when hee enamourd of his dainty skinne, did but incloase him with his power from other ha••me, touch∣ing him not to hurt, but to make difference twixt his fauours, shind, and shiel∣ded him, while others he did burne, kinde in embracements, and soft in his force. The language he did speake, was milde, so were his lookes, loue shad∣dowing all himself within his eyes, or in his face, keeping his greatest Court, because most gaining.

Ah sweet Philistella, had you seene the vn-relatable exquisitenesse of hi•• youth, none could haue blam'd me, but euen chid me, for not instantly yeel∣ding my passions wholly to his will; but proud ambition, and gay flatteri•• made me differ, and loue your brother: thus if I changd, twas from sweete Steriamus to Parselius, for his excellency wonne me first; so this can bee no•• change, but as a booke layd by, new lookt on, is more, and with greate•• iudgement vnderstood. You need not (said Philistella) striue to make me se••

your loue, and cause thereof to Steriamus, since (I truely speake) I thinke none worthyer to bee truely loued (except my Lord) then I imagine him, nor can I much, or any way defend my brother, who, (had you still conti∣nued louing,) I should haue blam'd he prouing so vniust, yet this only salue and good excuse is left, Desteny did, and euer still must rule. Now for mee deere Vrania, all I aime is loue, if I discourse, what is it of but loue? if I walke out, what trauell in but loue? if I sit still, what muse I on but loue? if I discoursed be withall, what answere I but loue? so as being made, main∣taind by loue, and in loue shaped, & squared only to his rule, what neede ex∣cuses but plaine truth? and say if I doe speake from purpose, or extrauogant∣ly fly from the matter we were talking of, if cleaue to other ••ubiect ••diuert the proferd speech, say this, and only this, Loue who is Lord of all braue royall minds, hath like the heauens beheld my lowly breast, and in it taken lodging, gracing it with humbling his great Godhead, to embrace a true, and yeelding heart, in comparison of his supreame authority most meane, should I not thus without excuse be freed, nay euen respected when loue is adored? As if hee spake from me, so heare me now, loue dwels in me, hee hath made me his hoste; then if I only doe remaine (as sure I shall) wholly affection, and his humblest slaue, scorne mee not, but still reckon mee a ser∣uant nearest wayting on great Loue. Others like Painters better can set him forth in his coulers; Kings we see haue pictures drawne to be eternised by, but tis them selues for which the picture is drawne, not for the workemans skill: so fauor me for Loue, nor blame me though an ill peece, 'tis the best though by an ill hand drawne; tis to the life, others may smoother bee, and fairer, none more like, nor iust vnto the perfect true resemblance of pure loue; & thus see you before your royall selfe, the humblest vassall Cupid cheri∣sheth.

Vrania in her soule cōmended the pretty confession, faire Philistella made, admiring her sweetnesse of disposition, as much as before she wōdred at the beauty of her person, embracing her, my deere companion in true loue said she, now shall we with more ease, and freedome serue our Master; dayes must not passe without our seruice done to him; nor shall, my deere Vrania said the other, let our most priuate thoughts be to each other plaine and o∣pen, seacrysie to all others held, and only loue, and we, know what we think, thus they did liue and loue, and loue, and liue. Nerana still remaining in Cicely, now growne as humble, as before proud, and ashamed as before scor∣ning, liuing in a Caue alone, and feeding on hearbs, roots, and milke of Goats which fed on those rocks: playing the milke-mayd better then before the Princesse, extremity forcing her, contented with patience, and pati∣ently contented, nothing troubling her but her loue, which was, and is e∣nough to vex the greatest, and best gouernd Spirits, hers being none of those the exactliest ruld. To bring her from her misery, (Loue hauing sufficient∣ly tyrannised) the King Perissus came thither, who in loue to his friends, the braue, and matchles Princes, meant to assist them; iournying towards them, hee happned to that place, where he beheld the sportfull exercise of Fortune, a Princesse without a Country, cloathes, or seruants, a Lady that must tell her selfe to be one, else not to be mistrusted, a miserable woman, and the more so because she felt it, experience, and sufferance making her sen∣cible

of misfortune. She sought to shunne the King at first, but afterwards considering her good might come from him, her hurt likely if kept close to abide with her, she came vnto him, and with much humility made her a∣proach, who beheld her with a gratious, and pittying eye, seeing in her more then ordenary behauiour, and a countenance that might carry greatnes with it, and had it in it, though shadowed vnder pouerty. Perissus tooke her to him, and demanding some things of her, shee answered with these like words.

Said she, this estate may iustly merit contempt, and scorne from you, or so great a Prince as you appeare to be. I am a creature liuing by ill chance able to relate my misery, which if you please to giue an eare vnto I shall tell you. I am cal'd Neraena Princesse of Stalamina, made in myne owne Coun∣try, and in the most perfect time of my rule, subiect to a stranger, both to me, and I feare good nature so far scorning me, as it brought me to this estate you see me in; for after with curst, and scornfull words, he had refusd my loue, and louing petition for pitty, left me, and with his friends as courteous, as he was proud, and kind, as he cruell, the renowned Princes Amphilan∣thus and Ollorandus tooke shippe. I could not but pursue in folly, as in loue, and so tooke a troublesome, and tedious iourney; to Morea I came of purpose to see her who was my vndoer, for hee loued Pamphilia, and shee, would I behold, desiring or so gayning my end, no more contented with hearing it, but like Procris, would seeke it, and gaine it. There I had enter∣tainment, like my search, smiles in scorne, and losse in hope; for in that Prin∣cesse I confesse worth to conquer hearts, and thus I yeeld his choyce most perfect. But this could not hold me from accusing my want of iudgment in going thither to behold her, as if I would wash mine eyes the cleerer to see my ill.

What folly said I, led me to this Rocke of mischeife, to be cast downe, and ruin'd on the ground of scorne? yet did not this hinder my iourney, for me thought I was more deseruing him, then the rare Princesse, so partiall are we to our selues, that I could almost haue belieued she seemed excellent, because mine eyes, like a flattring glasse shewed her so, yet againe thought I, why should I commend her, who vndoes my blisse? My spleene then swell'd against her, and I was sicke with anger, that I as abruptly left Morea, as Steriamus did Stalamina; thence I was by the braue Amphilanthus directed to Saint Maura, but a storme brought me hither, where with a greater tem∣pest I was molested, falling into the hands of a mad••man, who dress'd me as you see, and with diuersity of franticke fits, perplexed me. I haue since liued in these places, and seene Winter in cold despaires, and Sommers heat in flourishing misery: nor saw I any, of whom to demand fauour these many months, first shuning all, till now; wherefore from your hands I implore it, let not my outward meanes hinder your noble mind from pitty, but rather shew it where most want claimes it. I confesse contempt is likelyer to bee my reward, whose pride was such, as that punishment best fitteth me, but I am humbled, and my former fault looks more odious to me, then thought of this fortune would haue done, in my height of greatnes. The King had be∣fore heard of her, and tooke compassion of her, carrying her to the Towne, where that night she was to lye, in his owne Charriot which was led spare,

she rid thither, where he cloathed her according to her dignity. But when she had her greatnes againe in good clothes put about her, she began to grow to her wonted accustomed humours, like a garden, neuer so delicate when well kept vnder, will without keeping grow ruinous: So ouer-running-wee∣dy pride, in an ambitious creature proues troblesome to gouerne, and rude to looke on. Feare to see her poorenes, held her from looking in either the face of a fountaine, or Riuer, but now her eyes tels her, shee is her selfe, which is enough to make her remember, she was, and must bee againe as she was directly.

Shall I said shee, change from lownes to noblenes, and not come to my noble spirit? then were I more vnfortunate to haue such an alteration, then if held in raggs; the mind is aboue all but it selfe, and so must mine bee. O••ght I not to glory in my good, that I am redeemed from a priuate life? nay must I not loue my selfe, who I see Heauen hath such care of, as not to let me be obleiged to other then one of mine owne ranke for the fa∣uour, as esteeming none other worthy to serue me? Steriamus, would thou didst but see this, and thy disdainefull Mistris behold my honor, it might worke good vpon you both, and teach you, how to esteeme of those, (or in∣deed her) who the highest powers obserue, and reuerence. Alas, what a ••oole was I to be molested with my former fortune; had I beene able but to see what now I discerne, I should haue reioyced at it, since without questi∣on, it was done for my greater honor, and of purpose to shew me, how much the highest would expresse affection, nay respect vnto me. Marke but the whole carryage, did not all adore me? the mad-man were his fits other then worshipping me, as Sheephardesse, Nimph, or any thing? did he not hum∣ble himselfe most respectiuely vnto me?

Then bee thy selfe absolutly bless'd Neraena, all creatures made to secure thee, and of all kinds, command then, and shew thou art worthy of such hap∣py authority; Soare like the Hobby, and scorne to stoope to so poore a prey as Steriamus, who now looks before mine eyes, like a Dorr to a Faulcon; my mind preserued for height, goes vpward, none but the best shall haue li∣berty to ioyne with me, none Master me. Ignorant Prince what glory did'st thou shunne, when thou didest dispise the most reuerenced of women, the fauorite of the louing Gods, and Goddesses? Dull man to loue any but Neraena, the most loue-worthy of her sex, and her whom all may glory in for affecting, and that iudgement I discerne in this King, who was euen at first sight rauished with beholding me; true loue that only regards beauty, not apparrell, & to that end did loue cloath me in ragges to conquer a King. Poore Peris••us I pitty thee, that thy constancy must loose the strong power it had till now, and yeeld to my victory, who cannot requite thee; yet faine would he couer his affection, but t••s plainely seene, how doth he steale looks on me? cast vp his eyes, then sigh? these tell me that his heart is my priso∣ner, and the contention is twixt his difficulty to part from so long a fixed affection, and feare of my refusall, which he must finde, if hee pursue in it. Alas, I faine would helpe it if I could, but constancy (though a fruitlesse vertue) gouerns me.

With that the King came to her, whom she vsed after the same manner, as if he had beene in loue (as she imagined) which was nothing so, but made

him coniecture that she had beene with good feeding growne into her fury againe, and fullnesse had renewed her madnesse; he was sorry to see her so, that she accounted passion, which was pitty of her, hee being the worthy∣lest constant, and who would not let one spot come to touch, or blemish that purenes which remayned in him: like the fixed Starrs, shining with ioy, and giuing light of purest content vnto his excellent soule; but at last he found her false imagination grow troublesome, to auoyd which, hee meant to bee rid of her, wherefore at the Port where he was to take Shipping, he appoin∣ted a Barque of purpose for her, to carry her to her owne Country, and some seruants to attend her, besides some of her owne who came vnto her, when her finding was noysed abroad, and vpon submission were receiued. When shee saw her selfe thus slighted, as she term'd it, because the King he•• new seruant as she called him, did not attend her in his owne person; shee froun'd; Hee found she disliked it, and therefore sought to excuse himselfe, the more he proceeded in that, the greater grew her insolency, so as at the last she answered his complements, with vnmannerly replyes, and in the end, flat reuilings.

Hee noble, and courteous, would not be seene to wrangle with her, nor suffer her follies to offend him, wherefore he Ship'd himselfe and his com∣pany, commanding the Mariners to saile for Greece.

When she was with all her greatnes thus left on the Shoare with a trayne of twenty, instead of a King, and fiue hundred Knights, which she flatterd her selfe should haue waighted on her, she storm'd extremly within her selfe, hauing such a tempest of rage, as it could not be told, whether prid, or scorne blew highest in her fury; but time brought a little calme to her, so as cursing Ceicili, Perissus, and all men, but such vassals as were to serue her, and almost her selfe, for hauing need of such vassals, she ship'd with resolutiō to exercise her iust anger vpon her people, where she found a new businesse; for being landed in Lemnos, and going to the Citty where she expected solemne enter∣tainment, bon-fires, and such hot triumphs for her welcome, contrarywise she encounterd the cold face of neglect, and losse of her Country, being possess'd, and gouernd by a younger sister of hers, who she had so contemned in times past, as she disdaind to let her appeare before her presence, but held her inclosed in a strong Tower, many times to molest her, making her pre∣pare her selfe to dye.

This had so temperd her, (who it may be had some sparks of the fire of pride which flamed in Neraena) as she was as humble, and mild, as her sister excelld in the opposite, and so had she wonne the harts of the people, who after Neraena was lost, quickly fetched out the other, and as soone ac∣knowledged her their Princesse.

But now she is return'd, what diuersity of opinions were among them, some out of honest dispositions, and good plaine conscience would haue their true Lady restored; others for feare wished the same, but all ioyning together, and euery one hauing spoken, the chosen resolution was, shee should no more gouerne; pride could not gaine obedience, nor scorne, com∣mand, but what most vrged against her, was the pollitique feare they appre∣hended of her reuenge on them, who had giuen them selues to an other Go∣uernesse in her absence, so as they chose rather to commit a fault vnpar∣donable,

then to venture vnder her pardon, as if one should burne all the furniture of a House, because one Roome was infected with the Plague.

Now Neraena, where is thy greatnesse, but in miserie? where the so often named title of Princesse but in bondage? where all thy glorie but in subiection? and where thy subiection, but in thy braue Stalamina, and vnder thy dispised Sister? punishment iustly allotted for such excessiue ouer-weening: but how shee was imprisoned in the same place she had made her sisters abode, attended on but by one Iaylor, fed neately, an̄d ••oorely to keepe downe her fancy, told still shee was mad, and threatned ••o bee vsed accordingly, if shee raued, accused of fury, and that made ••he cause to satisfie the people, who ignorant enough, had sufficient ••ause to belieue it, seeing her passions, which though naturall to her, yet ••ppeared to their capacities meere lunatick actions; how these things pro∣••eeded and increased, after some time was expired, shall bee related.

The end of the second Booke.

[illustration]