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 THIRD BOOKE. (Book 3)

AMphilanthus being now to be spoken of, after he had left Pamphilia, past along the sea, purposing to goe to Mo∣rea, and so to Albania; but one in the Ship aduised him rather to take a nearer course, and vndertooke to be his guide, so he resolued, knowing him to be of Macedon, and one who knew all those parts perfectly wel, besides, a seruant to his Cosin, the King and Queene thereof, gaue credit and trust vnto him, and so they sailed, direc∣ted by him: yet Amphilanthus remembring the aduenture in Cyprus, called to mind his acquaintance and friend Polarchos, wherfore he would needs put into Rodes to visit him, and take him along (if he could) with him. This was a happy thought for that poore Prince, who all this while continued in the Iron Cage weather-beaten, and almost starued by the crueltie and ingrati∣tude, of his once best, and only beloued. When the King landed, he deman∣ded of one that hee met, where Polarchos was; he being of a good nature (though a Rodian) answered, Alas Sir (said hee) where hee hath been euer since his returne from Greece, in an Iron tower prisoner. The King admired at that, neuer hauing heard one touch of it, so as desiring to bee resolu'd, hee particularly demanded the causes and reasons; hee as freely answered, so as the truth and manner being knowne, the King altred his purpose of going like himselfe, and a Visitor, changing it to goe as a Knight of Ciprus, and one of purpose come (hearing of his imprisonment) to release him vpon any con∣dition. Then changed he his Armor, taking one of Azure colour, his Plume Crimson, and one fall of Blew in it; the furniture to his horse being of those colours, and his Deuice onely a Cipher, which was of all the letters of his Mistrisses name, delicately composed within the compasse of one, and so was called, the Knight of the Cipher. Being arriued at the Court, and his com∣ming made knowne to the Princesse, she gaue him hearing, and after some words deliuered with neglect enough, she told him, that he should haue the honor to encounter a Knight of her appointing, whom if he could ouercome Polarchos should be deliuerd him free out of prison; if not, hee should yeeld himselfe, if vanquished to her power, and that I rather belieue (said she) will

happen, and that my Knight will make you as little, and of as little account, as your Deuise and name signifieth. He made her answere, that although a Ci∣pher were nothing in it selfe, yet ioyned to the figures of her worth, whose name was therein, it was made aboue the valew of her selfe or Country. She was mad to heare him so bold with her, yet hauing giuen licence before to his demand, shee could not by the lawes of that Country, doe him any affront: so as shee was forced to content her selfe with hope of his o∣uerthrow, and vow of the cruellest reuenge, that might bee inflicted on any (who had so much offended a vaine woman). The day come, which was the next that followed, the night she had passed with so many frets, and distempers against the stranger, as she thought him, who had been once so neare of her acquaintance, as shee confessed onely from him to haue receiued her content, and happinesse, when he gaind her fathers liking to Po∣larchos, now her enemy, then her friend. She came forth in all the magnifi∣cence that Country could afford to serue her foolish pride with all; the Court as glorious, as if going to a wedding, not a funerall, as that was likely to prooue. Poore Polarchos was led forth in his chaines, and by them fastned to a Pillar, not hauing so much fauour allowed him, as to be permitted to sit or lie, to ease himselfe, griefe onely shewed in his face to be predominate. Amphilanthus beholding him; Alas braue Prince, said he, must those excel∣lent armes and hands be bound to her cruell ingratitude, and inhumane vn∣kindnesse? must thy worth bee chained by her vnworthinesse? and thy excelling selfe, a prisoner to her pride? Then hasted he the combat, where∣in he encountred a valiant and strong Gentleman, being one fit to defend an ill cause, by reason that strength is most required, when weakenesse gouern'd by Iustice will be strong enough; but his strength, though Iustice had been ioyned, would haue faild against this King, who had so soone ended the bu∣sinesse, as it appeared rather a thought of a combate, then the executing of one. The Princesse in infinite furie flung from the window, commanding that the strangers with their gaine, quickly left her Country, least they obtai∣ned Polarchos Cage. The King was offended with her arrogancy, yet being slightly attended to oppose a whole Country, went quickly thence, glad of his happy aduenture to haue his friend with him, and in that manner redee∣med by his hand from such a bondage. On they passe towards Greece, deter∣mining to hold that name, the Princesse had been so bold with all, hauing had so great fortune with it in the beginning, and so to goe vnknowne to∣wards the Army, where with some prety fine aduentures, they arriued, one being this. Not farre from Athos where they landed by a delicate Woods side, they saw a Forrest Nimph lie on the ground, and hard by her a youth, who as he beheld her (with as much amorosnesse as his young yeares could entertaine, or loue be pleased to inrich him with all) sang this Song.

LOue among the clouds did houer Seeking where to spie a louer: In the Court he none could find, Townes too meane were in that kind, At last as he was ripe to crying, In Forrest woods he found one lying

Vnder-neath a tree fast sleeping, Sprit of Loue her body keeping, Where the soule of Cupid lay Though he higher then did stay, When he himselfe in her discrying, He hasted more then with his flying.

And his tender hand soft laying On her breast his fires were playing, Wak'd her with his baby game, She who knew loue was no shame With his new sport; smild as delighted, And homeward went by Cupid lighted.

See the shady Woods bestowing That, which none can aske as owing But in Courts where plenties flow, Loue doth seldome pay, but owe, Then still giue me this Country pleasure, Where sweet loue chastly keepes his treasure.

She was faire, and he louely, being apparreld in greene made so neately, and fit to him, as if he had been a Courtier, or one of those finer people had had his cloathes, might haue been calld curious; his legges straight, and of the curiousest shape, were in white stockins, Garters he had none, his Hose being fastned aboue his knee; vnder his Girdle stuck his Arrowes, his Bow he held in his left hand; in stead of a Scarfe he had the line and coller, where with he was to leade his hound baudrick-wise athwart his slender body, the Dog lay at his feete, waiting on him, it appear'd willingly he attended, for he needed no bands to tie him to his seruice; his haire was thick, somthing long and curld, the Sunne had made it something yellower, then it naturally was, as if he would haue it nearer his owne beames, so much hee loued the Lad, & vsed to hold him neare, for he had kist his cheekes too hard, leauing the re∣membrance of his heate, which yet did well with him, manifesting the bet∣ter his manner of life, and the practice of hunting, wearing that liuerie. Such quicknesse he had in his eyes, which were full, and blacke, as they looked like sparks of Diamonds set in Iet; his lipps red, his teeth white, and such an one, as might truly bee called a louely youth. She euery way meriting such an one, being as delicate, as he hansom; she was partly in Greene too, as her vp∣per garment, white Buskins she had, the short sleeues, which she woare vpon her armes, and came in sight from her shoulders were also white, and of a glistering stuffe, a little ruffe she had about her neck, from which came stripps which were fastned to the edges of her gowne, cut downe equally for length, and breadth to make it square; the strips were of lace, so as the skinne came stealinglie through, as if desirous, but afraid to bee seene, know∣ing that little ioy would mooue desire to haue more, and so shee might bee wooed to show her necke more bare. Shee was as curiouslie pro∣portioned, as all the Artists could set downe to make excellent.

Her haire was not so white or yellow as others, but of a dainty, and loue-like browne, shining like gold, vpon blacke, her eye browes thick, and of so braue a compasse, threatning, that the arrowes which those bowes would shoote, were not to be resisted, but yeelded to, as a Deere, shot to the hart, falls downe, and dyes: so they must ouerthrow, and conquer; her eyes gray, and shi••ing like the morning, in each of which a Venus Starr did rise, and dwell; her lipps as delicate, and redd, as if they were angry at him, and would haue no other satisfaction but by meeting, for shee did loue as much as hee. So fine a couple these were, as Loue did glory in them, and they ioy in him, happines beyond all others, louing, and blessedly being beloued a∣gaine. When he had finished his song, she smild vpon him, asking him how he came to be acquainted so perfecty with loues wants, or gaines; My heart saith he hath so long serued him, as that tels me what my Master doth, when he conquers, when he failes, as not being able to subdue your breast, he cryes for want of power, but martyrs me in fierce reuenge of his vnwinning force. Yeeld then dee••e Nimph, if but in pitty, and that pitty will proceede to loue. Loue then did speake so liuely in his eyes, and made it selfe come forth of such deere lipps, as she, (poore she) could not, though armd with womans greatest strength resist so good a charme; she look'd, and blush'd, and was a∣bout to speake•• then cast her eyes vpon the ground, but straight look'd vp a∣gaine, and faine would say, I must requite your loue, but loath shee was to speake it, and yet kind pitty mooued, and so at last with pitty, loue, and Mayden blushing modesty, shee said. If you proue iust, I will yeeld to your loue; but bee so, since I leaue this habit, and the cha••test life to liue with you, and in a forrest sta••e. Those eyes that first had won her, hee cast vp to heauen, before which he did vow truth, and pure loue then brought them to his blisse, beholding her as timerous, as louing, not knowing what she had done, innocent and passionate, was betweene those two, a delicate vn∣knowing creature. Nature taught her to be carefull, and yet kind; thus she beheld him now with loue, and such respect, as she must beare him, whom she had made her Lord (for Lord the husband is in all estates from Shep∣heards vnto Kings). Then did the pleasing difference begin, each striuing how to shew the most respect, she to maintaine what she had gaind, he to re∣quite what shee had giuen. Amphilanthus and Polarchos admiring them as much, as either had in former times themselues, when first in loue, calling their passions round about them, wrapping themselues in them, as in their mantles, but closer did they sit to them; Amphilanthus being so much loue it selfe, as he might be compar'd to be it selfe, as neere as a round glasse made of the clearest temper, and fild full of the clearest water; turne it any way, you see thorow it, yet both seeme one colour, and clearenesse in agreeing; so did the clearenesse of his loue shew through him, or was it selfe onely loue, and purely cleare, no vacant place, least turning of the glasse might make a bub∣ble to appeare a change; no, he was round and true.

Poore Polarchos, hee stood like a blasted tree, the blossome of his affect••on killed, and withered; yet hee called to minde how hee had loued, and how shee vsed him. No more expression had this daintie Lasse giuen to her forrest Lad, then shee had made to him, but now decayed, and all her fauours dryed, and wrinckled like the last yeares

fruite: poore Prince turnd to the lowest slauery, of Loues meanest cast-a∣wayes, hee wept, while the other smil'd, the Forrester ioyning in present gaine. Amphilanthus feeding on the knowledge of his absent loues affecti∣on: heere did loue play his part in diuers kinds, & made himselfe this mirth, sporting like wantons with the babye, loues of these poore prisoners. Am∣philanthus pulled off his helme, and went vnto them, who with a fashio•• not rude, nor Courtly, but fine, and ciuill receiued him; the like they did vnto Polarchos; Amphila••thus giuing them the welcome salutation of the first wished ioyes, being (as hee did tell them) witnesse of their vowes: they both seemd glad, that such braue witne••ses they had vn••nowne til th••n obtained; the Forester replying thus.

Sir, neuer could a better or a richer gift be giuen me (except her selfe) then this wish, which from you doth bring the ioy we hope to find & keep, and which two yeares affection hath ambitiously desired, now by her grant enioyed; but may it please you to grace vs with this a second honour, wee shall haue iust reason to acknowledge our poore selues your seruants, and our liues your owne to be commanded. 'Tis the manner heere that when a Nimph doth change from that strict life, to be a happy wife, if shee bee such an one, as length of time, or honor hath ingaged, shee must by two braue Knights, be brought vnto the Temple of Diana, where shee must remaine that night alone in prayers, and then cast off her weeds, and offer them: and leaue them with the Priest; the Knights then come vnto the doore, and call her, with whom she comes forth, they then do giue her to her cho∣sen ma••e, and so conduct them to the Temple of Venus, where they are re∣ceiued, and there by Himen's Priest are marryed.

This if wee may obtaine of you, so fitly come to vs, brought by that For∣tune which hath made me bless'd, aptly to giue conclusion to our woes, and faire beginnings to our happinesse, you shall make vs the happiest to pray for your enioyings that euer louers had; and sure you must be one Sir, for loue shines in you. The King made answer hee would doe that kindness••, and any other to so fine a payre; then tooke he the sweete Nimph, who now must change her name, and gaine the best, and blessedst estate. Vnto the Temple they directly went, and there without the gate a••tended, till the time of going in; till she must returne, which at the ringing of a little Bell, did summon them to call her; her they tooke, and Amphilanthus gaue her to her loue, wishing euen from his soule the time were come, to haue the deerest gift hee most did long for, giuen so freely to him.

Then to the other Temple straight they went, which was not farre, but in a dainty wood, this other standing in a plaine, hard by a coole, and christ∣all Riuer, there she was receiued with ioy by Venus Priests, and Hymen•• Priests came, and cloathed her in wiues weeds, and so euen laded with con∣tent they left the Temple, and went to his Lodge, which was in a F••••••est, whereof he had the charge vnder the King, who loued the desarts, and those sports most of any thing, the first, and cheife cause being hi•• affection to a Lady liuing in a Forrest, and wholy affecting that life: euery man seek••ng to please him, tooke the estates of Forresters on them, and so made a delight∣full kind of wildnesse please them, and him, who thus enioyed pleasures, and his ends, coueting to appeare like their liuing, but the true roote of

vertue, and good breeding shun'd sauagenes, and only made roome for a little neglectiuenes to couer them with all, so as the great men were but Cour••ly Forresters, and ciuill wild-men. The Lodge was a faire house built on a Hill, at the foote wherof ranne a Riuer, ouer which was a bridge; from thence they passed through a delicate walke made by Art, and at the end of that, (which still ascended) was a garden, through which they came vnto the House, furnished with furniture fit for a Court, the seruants all in greene, and in good number, shewing fellowshippe in their apparrell, but o∣bedience in their fashions. There the Knights were welcom'd like them∣selues, and then the braue young Forrester desired to bee so much graced, as to know their names, nor would I said hee aske this ••auour vntill now, that you might see your seruant my selfe could entertaine you for the honours done, and to be worthier of them Ile first tell you who I am, although ap∣pearing outwardly more meane.

I am the third sonne to an Earle, who is cheife Forrester vnto the Prince of this Country; this Forrest is the daintiest, and the best beloued of any by his Maiestie, being calld by him selfe his garden: this hath hee giuen mee as my charge, and heere I serue him, and doe please him well, by leading of this life; this Lady is the Daughter of a Lord, neere neighbour to this place, but being thought too worthy for me, as I must confesse they err'd not in that, though did commit high treason vnto loue, seeking to barre vs from our wished ioy, they gaue her to Diana, being then vnder the yeares which they might rule her in, shee was constrained to doe as they commanded, and was sworne a Nimph, dedicated to the chast Goddesse by her friends, but when she came of yeares, by the lawes of this Country, she might choose whether shee would continue so or no. Two yeares shee wanted of the age of free∣dom••, in which time they hop'd she would forget, and by example loue faire chastity; but she neuer ordain'd for such a dull concluding of her dayes, by the example which was shewed of stricktnes she loued freedome, for Chastity affection, and so wee met, and still increas'd our flames, till now that you were brought for our eternall good to see vs ioynd, and to knit our blisse. Now Sir I doe beseech you tell me who you are. My name (braue Sir) answered the King, is Amphilanthus, this Knight Polarchos; my Lord said hee, I humbly craue pardon for my rudenesse, yet may you the better pardon it, since but that, you could expect from wild men, and Forresters: but I haue not so liued, that your fame hath not come, and spread it selfe in∣to each corner of these parts, as the sweete west-wind doth grace each flower with a kisse: so liue you honord by each hart, and lou'd as hee, who glories mankind with his excellence. The King replid, those words did shew his in∣side still remaind most noble, and like so delicate a Prince he was; then hee did salute the Lady, who feasted them with all delicates, staying them two dayes, in which time the marriage was diuulged, and all his neighbour For∣resters came in to ioy with him; his friends, and hers now met, were forced of all sides to shew great content.

Then Amphilanthus left them, and pass'd on toward the Campe, the braue Forrester bringing him through his command to the next towne from whence he had a guide. O loue said Amphilanthus, how pretious a Prince art thou, that thus command'st ouer all, mak'st Kings Forresters, Forresters

Kings in happinesse, and leauest vs to trauell vp and downe neglected, roa∣ming like Beggars, still asking of thee: but thy gifts are slow, and sparing, one dayes sight, or one poore houres discourse with much petition thou wilt grant mee, and to others, liues-time of comfort. Why didst thou not make me a Forrester, or a Shepheard, or any thing, so I might enioy my loue? What life would I despise to vndergoe, or danger shun, so she might like, and •• liue in her eyes; for in her heart I know I doe, and thus am doubly grieued ••oth for my want, and her deare, yet impatient suffering, my absence work∣ing in her, as vpon my heart with sorrow for both parts. Pi••ie vs, great King of hearts, we will beseech and beg of thee; if not, most cruell let mee iustly call thee.

Thus pe••plexed hee rode, not speaking all that day to any of his compa∣••ie. Polarchos was content, as well with silence as the King, so they rid, as if they had vowed not to speake, or to trie how they could performe such a ••ow, yet still did they dispute with lo••e, and all for loues deare sake. Many ••leasant aduentures they passed, finding one euening a delicate Lady follow∣••ng a Hauke, attended, or accompanied with many braue Gentlemen, and as gentle in behauiour, as bloud, being the chiefe and principall of that Coun∣••rie; the Lady affecting pleasures, they louing her for that, and her fashion, which was full of spirit, sweete, and mild discourse•• temperat and respectiue: ••y her they passed, and so by many more such meetings; they staying no where, till they came to the skirts of Albania, where they encountred two Knights, of whom they demanded newes; they told them, that they could giue them no certaine notice of any thing, since the last battaile which was ••ought against Plamergus, wherein he was slaine, and his onely sonne; Steria∣••us hauing behaued himselfe so brauely, and iudicially, as he had gotten im∣mortall praise; the other kings and Princes deseruing to be eternised for their valour and iudgements.

Were you there (I pray Sir) said Amphilanthus? Yes indeed Sir, said the first, we were both there, and hardly escaped the fury of that day. How was ••he battaile, I beseech you, said Amphilanthus? Marry Sir (said he) the place was first troublesome, and very full of disaduan••age to the strangers, Hilles and little Bottoms betweene them, wherein Plamergus the king of those parts had placed his men, a great Riuer before him; the bridge he had pull'd vp, leauing no possibilitie for the army to come to him; but they by meanes and aduice of Steriamus, passed the water, deuiding themselues in fiue parts, as the passages were in number.

It was Steriamus his fortune with the Italians, whose skill and valour was matchlesse, and guided by such a Commander, who did well, and best in the absence of th••ir Lord, not to bee resisted, he met Plamergus; Rosindy and the Macedonians encountred his sonne, the rest the other troopes; it was my happe to bee where the furious Italians met vs, but they made quicke worke with vs, running through vs, and ouer vs, as Lightning, killing as they went so fast, as I had but speede enough to runne away, not re∣solution, or heart to stay, for it seemed to bee more then humaine force, or speed they came with all. Parselius with his Moreans did as brauely, An∣tissius and Leandrus no lesse, and Selarinus as well.

Then got wee ouer a Hill, and ioyned with the kings sonne, who was

fighting with Rosindy, but soone saw wee an end of him and his army; so as a∣way againe we went, as if but to behold our party lost, which when I saw, and the battaile won, Trumpets sunding the retreit, we went away, resolued in my heart, neuer to draw Sword against the rightfull King. Steriamus was proclaimed King, and so by that name now is calld; but though I will not fight against him, yet I will not take his part, till I see the next encounter past, which will be more terrible, by how much the army is greater, led by brauer and stronger men, and the other army something lessned by the last, and ma∣ny of their best men hurt.

How shall we gaine so much fauour of you, braue Knights, said he, as to direct vs the nearest way to them? Truly Sir (said he) by this I belieue they bee met, but if you will goe and trie your fortune, I will bring you within sight of them. He gaue him many thanks, and so he conducted them accor∣ding to his promise.

Steriamus after the battaile, had cald his Commanders together, and tooke a certaine note of the number lost, and hurt in the battaile, which in compari∣son was nothing to their gaine and victory. Then marched they on to∣wards the second let, and King of the middle. Albania, called Pollidorus, and who was a braue man for courage and force, Antissius gaining the honour to leade the Vantgard, as it was at first granted him, but altred by reason of the place to fight in. With great courage they march on, and with as much re∣solution the other attend them; for except strengths were equall, no glorie by victorie can b•• esteem'd.

The strange Knight performed his promise, and brought the King with his friend to a great Lakes side, the armies being on the other side, he desired to passe that, and to bee able to assist (if neede were), the Knight then guided him by the bankes of it, and brought him to a hedge, wherein were many high trees which shadowed them well; they standing vp to the bodies of them, there they saw the charge giuen: but as he was be∣holding them, another Knight was seene by him on the other side of the hedge, wearing his owne Colours; whereupon Amphilanthus demanded of him, who he was, and to what end he stood close in that manner. To see the battaile, replide he, and to doe as you doe, spare my selfe from fighting. It may be, said Amphilanthus, wee doe the better, since there is no iesting (as they say) with those Ladds. Tis not for feare I assure you (said hee) that I am not among them. I belieue that (answered Amphilanthus) nor is that the cause of my being here, but to see what seruice I may doe my friends if occasion serue, else stand as I doe. The better and the nobler side (said the other, will hardly want your company, or mine, vnlesse wee were able to equall their valours, which I make doubt of.

It were modestly spoken of your selfe (said Amphilanthus), but if I bee not mistaken, you might haue had better manners, then to compare those together which you know not. Why? what chollerick Knight are you, said hee, that takes this exception, Parselius, Rosindy, Steriamus, Selarinus, Leandrus and Dolorindus, besides the braue King of Romania being there: but since you now know who I meane, I must bee satisfied by you, who you are, that dare compare with them. I make no comparisons with them, but only answer you, wherefore tell me your name, and I will satisfie you with the like, and

something else to make you know, curteous answers better ••ir Knights. I am not said he, ashamed of my name, therefore know, I am Philarchos of Metilin, newly from thence come to serue my friends. I see (answered the King) that your extreme affection rather mooued your care and haste, then ill nature, therefore pardon me, and take this satisfaction for the other, which I threat∣ned, that Amphilanthus loues Philarchos, and will be his seruant. With that they both saluted with such loue, as Cosins ought to beare one to another, and such who were so like, as they were. Then stood they ready to behold what happned, which was this. Antissius with his troopes charged the ene∣my, but they were led by a young man, who rather rash then valiant, came with such violence against them, as he disordered the ranck, and brake Antis∣sius order, whereupon their men were in routs, and Antissius in some danger, whereupon the three Knights ran in, and rescued him, Amphilanthus figh∣ting, while Philarchos remounted Antissius.

Then came to them twenty thousand, led by Leandrus, which were en∣countred by as many, led by the Kings fauourite, who was Martiall of his Kingdome. The two Commanders met, and Leandrus was vnhorsed, whom Amphilanthus (killing first the Martiall) againe mounted, and told him, hee was sorry Pamphilias seruant had so ill fortune. He knew his voice, and re∣plide, that the honor was greater, to bee aided by him, then if he had kept his horse, and won the day; these men shroudly set to, so as the braue Princes stood at last all on foote, like the towers of a mighty Castle, the rest of the wals ruind, and throwne downe: so the dead bodies lay round about them in rude heapes. Then came vp the rest of the Albanian army in grosse, which Steri∣amus perceiuing, went downe with all the forces and Princes. The encoun∣ter was terrible betweene them. Rosindy came with some horse, and helped the other fiue to fresh horse, and so together charged in, but such was their force and cunning, compassing their enemy, and charging on all sides, as they brake them, and put them in the like disorder, they had brought that part, which Antissius had: all braue men, all equally resolued to fight for victorie, resolutely made proofe of their wills and powers, as had not the last three, come in happy time, the victorie had been doubtfull.

Twise Amphilanthus was vnhorsed, by the death of his horses, and once helped by Rosindy, whō he requited in a greater measure (though almost the same kind) taking him from vnder his horses belly, ready to be smotherd by the multitude, that were pressing on him; the other time hee was furnished with a Horse, which Selarinus brought him; he saued Parselius and Ste∣riamus besides from death, one hauing his Helme strooke off, hee coue∣ring him with his Sheild, till a new one was brought him. The other hee rescued from many mens hands, hauing broke his Sword. Antissius hee horsed, and many braue acts hee did, so as all attributed the happi∣nesse of that dayes Victory (which then was gained) to him, who vn∣knowne, they came to salute, but hee not willing to hide himselfe from them, besides wanting ayre quickly discouered himselfe; then, if any en∣uy were in them before to the deseruing stranger, when Amphilanthus was the man, all was rooted out, and supplanted by true affection to him.

The Princes of Italy, and his souldiers were ouer-ioyed at their Kings

arriuall, and rauished with his magnanimous valour and courage: then the Trumpets were sounded, and all retyred to a Plaine close by, keeping the field that night to witnesse their Conquest. The King was taken aliue, but hurt to death, dying within fiue dayes after, but hee heard Steriamus againe proclaimed by the Army, as a salue for his wounds. This was a sharpe and terrible fight, wherefore they went to the next Towne, which was the chiefe, and yeelded to their force: there they rested their men and them∣selues, neuer an one hauing escaped without some hurt or other: the Vsur∣per died, and was buried.

When all were refre••hed, they began to thinke of marching forwards, and the two Knights which had guided Amphilanthus, vndertooke to bee the guides to the Army, putting themselues dutifully and affectionately vnder Steriamus, seruing him with all loyaltie. Amphilanthus and Selarinus with as much comfort, as absence could afford them, got by themselues, to giue ac∣count to each other of their passions; for none else were made fortunate to know their sufferings, nor did Amphilanthus for all his trust in him, impart his Mistrisses name, holding that too deare, euen for his friend to heare. Into a Garden they went, but that, because the chiefe windowes of the house were vpon it, was thought not priuate enough, they went into an Orchard beyond it, in which was a place raised with three ascents like, a triple Crowne, the trees being Orange and Lemond trees, then in their pride, hauing blossoms, vnripe, and ripe fruite vpon them. In the midst of this place was a stone, not vnlike a Tombe of red Marble, as high from the ground, as a large chest, and of that proportion; round about it, or better to say, on three full sides incom∣passed with Ciprus; on the other side was a Ring of Gold, as if to open the Tombe, like the Ring to a Latch.

The amorous Kings sat downe vpon it, being so inriched with their pas∣sions, as other thoughts were too meane for them to suffer. Amphilanthus relating the blessed content he felt in his fortunate enioying, truly and affecti∣onately discouering the expresse knowledge of her loue, by the sincerest ex∣pression made vnto him, and such, as Selarinus grew to be iealous hee should neuer compasse; for it seemd vnpossible, that any more then one woman could bee so excellent and perfect a louer. As hee was ready to make reply in that kind, they heard a voice (as if within the Tombe) bring forth some words, which made them at the first hearing it, start vp, afraid of discouerie, or as if troubled that they had hurt her; the speech betraying the heart to suffer excessiuenesse in misery.

Vnfortunate woman (said it) that cannot die, hauing such occasion. Is it possible deare Tombe, that thou canst hold, and inclose my woes, yet keepe them safe in thee, and with the multitudes of them? at last conclude my griefe, let my sorrowes swell against themselues in iustest rage, and with their furies choke my breath that serues to speake them, and to bee drawne contrary to my onely desires, to saue my weary and afflicted life; tedious, vn∣pleasing time, finish thy labour, and my woes, let this bee my last minute of vnquietnesse, redeeme me from the cruell slauery of liuing, and bring mee to the excellent libertie of dying; for how can life be pleasing, when Polidorus is not? My dearest, and alone deare Lord, I know that thou art dead, else were I fetched by thee, to ioy with thee, where as now I remaine in my li∣uing

death. Would I did know the truth, then might I giue thee my last farewell, and with that ioyne my soule with thine, but twixt these violent de∣spaires how am I tortured?

Then was shee quiet a little space, while they perused the place: but long continued she not so, like to women spinning, staid but to fasten the thread to begin againe to turne, and twine her sorrowes: but now she had spun them into Rime, like the Swan in a most weeping Verse: they hearing her, stayd from the releasing her out of the Tombe, till she had said her Verses, being these.

INfernall Spirits listen to my moanes, From Cauy depths, giue hearing to my groanes Great Pluto, let thy sad abiding moue With Hellish fires, to flame for fires of loue; Let Charon passe my woes vnto thine eares: His boate if empty they shall load it well, With tortures great, as are the paines of Hell, And waightier then the Earth this body beares.

Take downe my spirit, cloyd with griefe and paine Coniure the darkest Pits, to let me gaine Some corner for a rest; if not, let mee O Pluto wander, and complaine to thee: No corsiue can make wounds haue torture more, Nor this disfauor vex a forelorne soule; (If all thy furys were put in a role) Then Loue giues me; ah bitter eating sore.

Call thy great Counsell, and afflicted Sp'rits, Examine well their woes, with all their nights, And you shall find none there that are not mine, Nay, my least, with their greatest ioyntly twine. Let saddest Echo from her hollow Caue, Answere the horrid plaints my sorrow giues, Which in like mournefull, and vast cauerne liues; Then iudge the murdering passions which I haue.

My Iudge is deafe, then, O thy iustice proue, Mend thou the fault of proud forgetfull loue, Release me from thy Court, and send me out Vnto thy Brother Ioue, whose loue and doubt Hath oft transform'd him from his heauenly kind: So now from thee transforme my killing care To blessing, and from Hell into the Ayre, Darke griefe should not a louing fancy bind.

Yet loue thus binds me euen vnto my death, and welcomest were•• that, might I obtaine it, but yet that must not bee. What ioy did I euer know? yes I did loue vnknowne, then knowne enioyed; enioyed, how long? the quarter of the time I lou'd in vaine, and that poore quarter how oft cross'd, afflicted, and tormented with all varyeties of paines? yet my deere Lord thou euer wert most kind, and so true louing, as one death is too too little now to haue for thee, although a wasting lingring end. Would tenne times more I might beare, so thou wert fafe; vnfortunate, but brauest Prince to bee embraced in such a busines, where not only honours, Crowne, possessi∣ons, but thy life, must bee a sacrifice, vnto the pleasure of two young men.

My sweetest loue, thou must bee the poore Lambe, offered for others faults. O my deere Polidorus, thou didst merit fame, and loue, not trouble, and reuenge; thou didst not erre, but if thy Father did, must his sinnes lye on thee, and thou be punished for his pride? yet deere thou hast required my best loue, and made prouision for thy other selfe, for after thee, none should ere haue had my loue, since with thee it ought to haue, as first creation, lasting buriall, and that assurance thou hast giuen: but keepe thy promise, which was, if with victory thou didst returne to bring mee vnto thee, if thou wert killd, to be brought vnto mee, that in this vault we might haue our graues, and that red Marble serue for such a Tombe, as might best ••it••esse, blood did cause our ends. Thou art ore-throwne, I find it deere, and hindred I am, confident else, none could keepe thee from remembring thy poore loue; but if thou wert so hindred, cursed be the causers, and my Desteny, to barre my last enioying of my best lou'd Lord, & let those neuer ioy in happines of loue that be the parters of our bodyes; a poore gift it had b••ene to giue a chosen graue, alas he must be buried, and if so, where easier, and with lesser paines, or fitter then with her, that liues to dye, when shee's certaine what becomes of him? D••ere Polidorus, heere I liue to thy deere memory, feed on the sweetest word thou gauest mee when we parted, but will liue no longer then thy end bee knowne to mee. If thou beest liuing quickly come to me, if dead, assoone the tydings, then shall I witnes my con∣••••ant woe, and pay to thee what thou deseruedst, and only vnto thee will I commend my loue, and dying paines; others to others yeeld their last made ••ows, my first, and last were dedicated, and so giuen to thee, and thus a dy∣ing life doe I continue in, till thou or thine release me vnto thee.

When she had ended these lamentable speeches, they tryed to open the Chest, which easily they did; she seeing it open, her heart euen opened with it, as embracing the ioy her loued Lord should bring her, ready as it were to take, or loue, or death, equally fit for either; the place by opening, being fit to be discouered, they found the stone to be like an vpper box in a Cabinet lesser then the other, but part of it as the light to the ancient Halls in Princes houses: but this was darke; the lower part was a bed of gold, vpon which she lay; her apparell a Roabe of purple, imbrodered as the Kings Roabes vse to be, vnder that a petticoate, or round kirtle of Crimson; her armes, fingers, and necke, adorn'd with the richest Iewels; her buskins were of white, laced vp with Rubies, her hayre comb'd downe, and a Crowne of infinite valew on her head; a Scepter in her hand, which at the opening

of the Tombe she cast downe, raysing her selfe a little vp, and throwing her armes abroad, ready to welcome her heart vnto her, as if before gone thence. The sudden light to so much darkenesse, at the first daseled her eyes, but when she recouer'd and saw in stead of Polidorus, two strangers, she crossed her armes, lay downe againe, seeming so like a dead body, as they were a∣fraid, they had but heard a voyce which caused their search, but that she had beene dead, that spirit which shee once had, had guided them to her. But soone were they put beyond that amazednes by her speech. If said she, you be of Polidorus seruants, directed by him to bring me his death, quickly giue me mine likewise, and then most welcome, or doe but fauour me so much, as to shut me vp againe; this is the Throne, and Tombe which I must haue, and only will enioy.

The Kings, whose hearts were mollified with loue, were so tempered to pitty, as they were not able to know what to doe, but gazed on her, who appeard the most peerelesse Tombe their eyes had euer beheld, and the strangest; they saw shee lay still, like her owne monument curiously cut. A∣las said Amphilanthus, what comfort can a victory bring, that finds such a conclusion to accompanie it selfe with all: A victory cryd shee, then raised she her sweete saddest selfe a little on one arme; I beseech you both, or either said she, bee so charitable to tell me the truth, they loath to tell her what must bring her death, yet still besought, and that implor'd with teares, they look'd on one another, sigh'd, and with their eyes intreated each to speake; at last braue Amphilanthus as kind, as excellent in all other vertues gaue these words.

Madam said he, to obay you, whom we must after sue to for a fauour, I will discouer that, which my soule, (as for you, doth grieue for.) The Army is ouerthrowne, and your beloued Lord, who wee haue heard you so much speake of•• slaine, said shee, I see it in your face, though you will not in pitty speake it. Charitable Sir, how am I bound to you? but I beseech you, add one fauour more vnto your first, and then an other as the last to that, where is his body? Laid said he in the cheife Church among the other Kings, by Steriamus owne command. It was an noble act of him said shee, whom Heauens protect for it, mercy in Conquerors being as excellent as their for∣tunes: the last request Ile make Sir is this, that by your fauours I may bee layd by him, since I will not aske to haue him brought to mee, I am•• and was his wife, deerely beloued of him, and heere for safety, and by mine owne petition left by him. I was Daughter to a King, the vnfortunate Plamergus, but my greatest happinesse I euer gloryed in, was his true loue, lay me then braue Sir, with my Lord, and only deere Polidorus, and thus my deere, my soule to thine doth flye.

Amphilanthus did beseech, Selarinus weept to her; all would not serue, shee stretched her selfe straight out, and by curious Art laid her selfe forth, fit to be carryed to her buriall, dying as if the word dead had kild her; ex∣cellent griefe, and most excellent strength of passion, that can bring so reso∣lute, and braue an end. The Kings then chang'd their discourse from loue to sorrow; they stayed by her, seeking all meanes to recouer her, but find∣ing she was gone, and so all hope of life in her, they went into the Court, where they found the King new risen from Councell, and all his Princes,

and Lords about him. He went to meete them, but seeing such sorrow in their faces, wondred, and a little feard, but soone he was brought out of that, they telling him the cause, and sad aduenture. Then he sent for the Guard, who had kept the late King Polidorus, of whom he vnderstood, how he with teares intreated to be laid in a Tombe made by himselfe in the Orchard; but they, though he besought them to goe to the Conqueror, (as he calld Steri∣amus) and beseech that honor from hīm, to performe a vow which hee had made, they vnwilling to busie themselues, fearing to distast the King, had neuer let his last request be knowne; some said they thought his wounds, and paines of them, had made him raue, others, that being dead, what mat∣ter was it where his body lay? comparing him vnto himselfe, who being gone said he, what care I where my body is bestowed? But these things Ste∣riamus liked not, being so infinitely offended with them•• as had it beene a fault, they might haue dyed for, they had surely payd their liues for such neglect, but not ascending to that height, he banished them, hating neglect to any creature dying, imagining his soule that dyes vnsatisfied, must part with trouble from the body, and for that was grieued; and this Iustice did he vnto loue, for which, loue must be iust to him.

Then made he Proclamation for their banishment; and straight himselfe went with the whole assembly of Kings, and Princes fetching her, and went as the cheife mourner with her, weeping to her graue; the other Kings did carry her, and were as they thought, honourd with the waight of such worth, and constancy, she seeming on their shoulders like her Ef••gie, carry∣ed to her owne Funerall. The Tombe was graced that night with her ly∣ing on it, the next morning with solemne state opened, and she layd by her Lord; this noble act did Steriamus as the first in Albania, & the beginning to his famous life. This being past, and a Commander left in that towne, which was the chiefe seate of the Kings of those parts, and from whence all the Auncesters tooke their claime, the new and rightfull King, marched a∣gaine towards the third king, guided by his new seruants, and followed with many great men of Albania, who like the world ranne with the streame of Fortune, and left the ouerthrowne party, as soone as it was made miserable with that knowledge. Antissius had had his time for leading: Lea••drus now desired to haue the next; it was granted him, and so they marched; Amphilanthus, now in the head of his owne troups, Steriamus hauing a Guard of them, next his person, as their Country woman guarded his hea••t safe from hurt, or change: the Albanians next to them, which were in number that went forth with him after the two victories as many as were lost, so the Army was of the same bignesse, as when it came into Albania. Perissus after hee had left Neraena in all her rages for his neglect, yet saluing it, as desirous to deceiue her selfe, with saying that the danger hee found him selfe in of change, to his first, and only loue, made him for feare leaue her, not being able to withstand her power in loue; but hee in the contrary part pittying her, and weary of her frantique discourse left her, and with flue hundred Knights tooke Shipping, landing in Epirus, where he mette the glad tydings of the victoryes, and winning Princes: then hasted he, gui∣ded by many, euery one desirous to doe seruice to him, or them that came to serue their King; he passed on quietly, for there was no resistance, but

desirous to bee with them, he commanded the rest of his trayne to come with more leasure after him, he posting away only with his Squire, and two guids. As he rid, it was his chance to meete two armed men, and two Squires, carying each of them a great Sword, and Speare, they came to him with these words.

Sir said they we be two young Princes, sons to the Duke of Corinthia, de∣••irous we are of Knighthood, but such hath our fortunes beene, as not be∣ing able to gaine it as we desired, we resolued to take this course, and from the first Knights hands we met, (that was fit to giue it vs) to demand it; you looke like such an one, wherefore from you we require it, yet wee beseech you, tell vs who we shall haue it from. My name said he, it may be, will ra∣ther make me seeme vuworthy of the honor you offer mee, being scarce knowne in these parts, yet because you so ciuilly desire the knowledge of it, you shall haue it, I am Perissus of Sicily; That name said they is come with wonder to our eares, and happinesse to vs to gaine this honor from so royall hands; then lighting all on the ground Perissus tooke their swords, and girt them to them, putting on their Spurrs, and so finishing their Knighthood, kiss'd them, being two delicate, and louely youths.

Now Sir said they, let vs beseech one honor more from you, which is to ••un one course with each of vs, not that we will seeme vngratefull for this fa∣uour, but only to see what wee may bee able to doe against you before wee fall, since that wee are to encounter the brauest man of the World, as hee is esteemed, and for that cause we demanded Knighthood.

Truly (said Perissus) I should bee wonderfull loath to harme you, so much I affect you; but first tell mee who that braue man is, and if hee bee none of my best friends, I will serue you against him. That wee doe not desire (said they) for hee hauing kild our father, wee must reuenge it our selues, or die in the quarrell; therefore wee beseech you first, let vs bee graced for our first triall to runne with you, and wee shall esteeme it a hap∣pinesse, though throwne by you: but to satisfie you, the Knight which wee must fight with, is Amphilanthus, who comming to my fathers house, vsed himselfe so insolently, as he a graue man could not like it, boasting of what gaine he had of the honours of Ladies, in that dishonouring many, one a∣mongst that number being the Princesse of Stiria, a Lady my father honored much, and was his Neece, whose honor he could not leaue touched vnreuen∣ged. But he ancient, the other strong and young, got the better so much, as he slew my father: we being then too young to carrie armes (for is is three yeeres since we were with poore & miserable patiēce, forced to be at quiet). Now we haue trauelled, halfe a yeare wee haue spent to find some worthy Prince, at last by storme were cast on shore in this Country, where we heard of these braue warres, & now we were going to receiue the honor from one of those Kings, and straight to challenge Amphilanthus, who we heare is there. Truly (said Perissus) you haue vndertaken a very hard task, but I pray tell me what manner of man is that Prince you speak of. He is, said he, much of your stature, faire, and curled haire hee hath, and in troth such an one, as may well win Ladies, and such is his fame, as wee desire to die by his hand, for wee cannot hope to ouercome him. To this end said Perissus, you shall excuse mee from running with you, and assure your selues, you are

infinitly mistaken in him, for the true Amphilanthus is neither of the stature nor complexion you speake of, but as excellent a creature, as can, or hath beene framed by Nature, free from these things, hee is accused of, there∣fore be perswaded by me, goe into the Army with me, if when you see him it prooue to bee hee, I will then not onely fulfill your desire in this, but bring you to call him vnto account; yet trust me on my honour it is not he, for he is as wise as valiant, and iust as wise.

Thus satisfied they ridd together towards the Army, which then was marching, and making hast to the third encounter, which was to bee had with Nicholarus, an other partaker of Albania's miserie, and Steriamus iniury.

As they rode, Perissus thinking of his Limena, the two young Knights of nothing more then how to attaine to some encounter to trye their va∣lour, it was one of their chances (being the elder, and riding neerer a wood side then the others did) to heare two within discoursing in this manner.

I wonder said the one, that Amphilanthus, the worthyest, brauest Prince for all noble vertues should let ingratitude liue in him, (a thing I haue so often heard him despise) especially to a Lady, who (as by her letter you may see) for his sake hath refused all matches offered her, wholly reser∣uing her selfe for him, now to forsake her, and not onely so, but in her sight striuing to let her see her losse, and to vse her with such scorne, as her affe∣ction is forced to change loue to a friend, to an enemy; Yet to moue me to reuenge her, who am most bound vnto him, I more maruell at; for hee onely hath set my Crowne vpon my head.

Must I be made to fight with him, who fought for mee? Shall I seeke to take that life from him, which was so willingly and brauely ventur'd to keepe mine? Or to make mine fortunate; from a Run-away and poore Fisher-boy he made me a King, for one whose head was at sale, he brought a Crowne vnto it, and royall dignity to the poorest Subiect. Shall I (I say) turne against this man, as if the longer I knew vertue, the more I should dislike it? No Antissia, loue is full of variety in Passions, and many false conceits will arise; which, when discouered, sorrow is the period, but repentance may follow this.

Besides, Loue tells me I must loue these Kings, else how shall I obtaine my wished blessing to enioy sweet Selarina; but indeed truth saies, I must not be vnthankefull. I would venture farre for thy good sweet Antissia, and preferre thy gaine equall with mine owne, but neither must make me vn∣gratefull. From Amphilanthus I haue got my life, and fortune, to him they both belong, and they shall be payed to serue him, not to offend him, my Sword to attend him, not to hurt him. Shall this bee requitall for his last care of me in the battaile against Polidorus, where he rescued me, and hors'd me againe? That had beene enough to winne respect, and truth in loue, both together set as obligations neuer to be broken, nor shall bee touched by me. I loue my Aunt well, but my honour more; then must she pardon me, I will not fight with him for her. Amphilanthus, reply'd the other, hath beene so blessed with fortune, as hee hath obliged the best to bee his seruants by his fauours done them; who liues of all these Princes in the Army, that hath not (at some one time or other) directly taken their liues from him; the brauest hee hath saued, and the valiantest

rescued, my poore selfe released from cruell, close, and dangerous imprison∣ment. These I consider and allow, but then comes loue, and tells me, he must be obeyed, my vow vnto your Aunt commandeth me, and that I must ob∣serue; she wills me to kill Amphilanthus, and then she will marry mee. And this you wil attempt, said Antissius? Attempt, win or die in it, said Dolorindus. You must first begin with me, said Antissius, if you bee resolute in it, and will suffer the canker, ingratitude, to rule: but thinke againe; for rather had I do any reasonable matter, then breake friendship with you, yet rather that, then where I am so infinitely bound, and more contentedly die thus, then liue to haue a thought to hurt that Prince. I loue Antissia, said he, yet must I consent to withstand you, since you leaue the due respect to Antissia, which bloud and her affection to you may claime, it frees me who loued you most for her sake; nay it commands, and threatens me; wherefore I am ready to encoun∣ter you first.

As they were going to venture an end to their liues, two Knights more arriued, and seeing them ready to fight, stepped in betweene them. They furious, and inraged with their let, demanded who they were. I am, said one of them, Ollorandus: and I, said the other, Amphilanthus. With that Dolo∣rindus turnd on him; And you (said he) are the man I looked for: with that they fell to blowes, his Companion did the like, but Antissius a little paused, and hauing asked a question or two more of him, was assured by his voyce and gesture, it was not his friend Ollorandus. Dolorindus so furious, as his senses had left him to ignorance of voice or knowledge. Then hoping the other was that counterfet Amphilanthus, he willingly entertained the com∣bat, which was sharpe. Dolorindus did well, but had the worse; for how could it other be, that name being enough to vanquish without force. Hee fell, and his enemy being ready to cut off his head, the braue Perissus came to the young Knight, who had heard all this, and stepped in; Nay Amphilan∣thus said he, hold your hands, here is another hath as much to say to you for ••illing his father, Prince of Carinthia.

He remembred that, and hee turned vnto him, and a new fight began, wherein the young Knight did so well (helped too a little by his enemies wearinesse, the which gaue aduantage to him, who had otherwise been too hard for him) as hee brought him to the like passe Dolorindus was in: but when hee had him thus, lesse fauour was shewed in more speed, for hee had got off his Helme and Head, before helpe could come in, although Perissus hearing the name, made all the meanes hee could to saue his life for names sake onely, hee came to heare the young Prince say, Farewell Amphilanthus, I am now reuenged of thee; and I, said Antissius for the abominable treason, in taking such Princes names vpon you. The Prince of Carinthia held the head in his hand, which when Perissus saw, hee was sorry, because it had c••rried that name, but could not but much praise Fortune, who had so cun∣ningly wrought the satisfaction to the Princes, the punishment for false∣hood, and the reuenge of loue. They tooke vp Dolorindus, who was woun∣ded with shame, as much as with the Sword, weakenesse from fury getting place; he wept, and petitioned for fauour from Antissius, hee confest his fault to be fouler then sinne.

Antissius replied, he must first satisfie Amphilanthus, then he should answer

him. Hee vowed neuer to fight with him. The braue young King told him, hee was contented with that, so he submitted to the king of the Romans, and that should be the satisfaction he would take. Perissus in the meane time had gotten the slaine Knights Squires to him, to be resolu'd of this cosenage; they had not full knowledge of it, but the other Knight not being dead, hee coniu∣red him to relate it, and why? to haue as he told him the happinesse to end in more quiet, when hee might with a clearer conscience depart. Hee yeelded vnto him, and made a true and plaine confession to him in this man∣ner.

My friend (said hee) being in loue with the excellent Princesse of Croatia, neither hauing meanes by estate to gaine her, nor hope to win her by his loue or seruice, she hauing resolu'd to loue none but Amphilanthus, loue hauing conquerd an vnusuall way on her, when only fame, not sight, or knowledge, but by reports had grounded such an affection in her. Hee obtained to know where that braue Prince remained, hee was certified, that he was in a search for a Sister of his, some time vnheard of. In this vnlucky season hee tooke his name vpon him; after hearing of his Companion, Ollorandus, hee inioyned me to take his name likewise on me; truly I must confesse it was an vnexcusable fault, and the greater, because those names, especially his, was so honored, as wheresoeuer we passed, we had our owne wills. Knights refused to combat with vs, Ladies soone yeelded, belieuing they ought not to refuse what hee demanded, who commanded all hearts. I also had my share in this pleasure, as now in death. He won the Princesse of Croatia, left her af∣terwards, keeping the same name, finding such sweetnes in it: but now being here, and the true Amphilanthus his fame ••lourishing for his incomparable glory, we purposed not to tarry, knowing it would prooue too hot a busines for vs, if once it came to his eares. Wherefore we made what haste we could to get to the Sea, and so meant to leaue these parts to his true light, and carry a few flashes with vs in farther remote places. Into great Brittany we meant to passe, but now are stayd by your force, we were Gentlemen of noble hou∣ses, but such hath been our ill liuing, as I desire for him, and my selfe we may be priuately buried here, neuer more enquired after, nor if you please to fa∣uour your owne worth so much henceforth mentioned, letting our shames die, and be inclosed in the earth with vs.

Perissus promised to fulfill some of those requests, the rest were not in his power, such a businesse depending vpon their knowledge, as the reconci∣ling of such Princes. There they were buried, and the three Kings tooke their way to a little house in the Wood, where they more freely discussed of the matter, which was this.

Antissia after her returne, filled with hate in stead of loue, neuer left plot∣ting for reuenge, till this came (as often it doth in her sexe) into her mind; whereupon she writ to her Nephew; but if that failed, shee trusted on her seruant, and therefore likewise did she write to him: a letter from her was a comfort sufficient, but a command, his honour, and happinesse. This was the cause, and nothing but death would satisfie her, as at that time her furie was nothing being so reuengefull as a forsaken woman, shame like loue pro∣uoking her; and that he freely granted her, though it had fallen out to be his owne to haue paid her.

Antissius mistrusting as much by his distemper, led him foorth of the Towne to this place: the same day the Army marched thence toward Nicolarus; there they had remained till Perissus his finding them; Antissius striuing to diswade Dolorindus persisting in his resolution, which had end by this adventure. They stayed there till he was some∣thing recouered, in which time the Sicilians arriued with whom they all followed the Army, but Dolorindus afflicted doubly left them to their will, hee following a course to redeeme his honor quenched. They arri∣uing found the Kings ready to giue battell, the Army was ordered before their comming, wherefore those troops stood by them selues to watch when they might assist, and not trouble them.

Antissia after shee had fedde her selfe with this fury, was more then satisfied, for Enuy being a little appeas'd, shee came to her good nature againe, or loue, or feare, or, and indeed all passions, whirling about like a wheele they draw wye•• out with all: so drew shee painefull thoughts, longer then before, lengthned, with dispaire; for now said shee, wretched Antissia, what hope can be so flattering, as to shew it selfe in any colour like it selfe to helpe thee? Amphilanthus must for euer hate thee, and all his friends dispise thee. Thou hast engaged a louing King, who will (I am assured) bee so oreruled by thy commands as hee will loose his life for thee.

How can N••gropont forgiue mee? but most I haue offended mine owne Country deere Romania, in seeking to make thee a widdow by loo∣sing her King, who if hee meete Amphilanthus in the field, is sure to dye for it; if not, yet haue I sought to murther his honor, in desiring to make him vngratefull: either way I am a Traytor to my Country, and deserue the sharpest punishment. Yet I hope they will consider what vnquiet passi∣ons may produce, and like men, haue stayder iudgments about them, then on my request to indanger themselues, or let their honors perish for my wil. This hope pleaseth me, but now againe, I doubt; O fond Antissia, wic∣ked Antissia, to let so vilde a thought inhabit in thee: it had beene too much to bee nourished, and brought to the ripenesse of so much mis∣chiefe.

Alas sweetest Pamphilia, how maist thou curse me, for hauing a thought to hurt thy loue? much more to plot his ruine, and so thine in his; yet thou art the cause; for had hee not changed from me to thee, all had been safe, yet I may wrong thee this way too: how know I that hee loued mee first, may it not bee, that hee did loue thee long before I saw Morea? His fashion at the first encounter 'twixt you, when wee came to Mantinea, ex∣pressed a deare respect, and familiar loue, then I wrong'd thee, to purchase him. If from thee he did change, the blame is there, and I aske pardon for it; but pardon cannot bee, where so much ill remaines.

What shal I do most miserable creature, wretched beyond all women, and not fit to liue? How euer businesses passe, thou art a meere shame to thy sex, and the disgrace of louers. Die cruel Antissia, and abuse not this place with thy vild liuing in it. How can this earth beare without swallowing thee vp? consi∣dering that he brought quiet peace, the blessing of a Country vnto it. But thy hate is such to me, as thou wilt not let mee lodge within thee, but rather

doth cast mee out, like the worst weeds, to ease thy selfe of the poyson I am fild'd withall, and to expose me to the end, wor••t serpents are brought to, which ought to be destroyed, least they infect the earth; and should I bee slaine for my venomous practice, and haue no buriall, I were iustly vsed, who could not bury a little losse without the graue were lined with mur∣ther.

A little losse said I, noe sure it is the greatest; yet loue should still be loue, & not let malice be the Hyaena to so sweet a Prince. Perplexed wretch, what shall I doe? wander away? abide not heere for shame, the ayre cannot af∣ford thee breath, the grownd rest, nor thine owne lost selfe quiet. Curs'd be thy dayes, and thou the most accursed soule liuing; end, or be transformed to miserie it selfe, and be any thing rather then Antissia. Sought I to make Antissius vngratefull? curs'd was the act, and I accursed in it. Would I haue D••lorindus kill Amphilanthus? why did not that desire murther, or indeed iustly execute me? Hate is aboue all, and highlyest to be hated, and if that to be misprized, what must the Nurse bee that nourished it? As a mother of a braue good sonne, is reuerenced, and sought: so may I be hated, and shun'd for this birth. Romania I am a Traitor to thee, thou canst not but abhor me. I am guilty, accuse my selfe, and know what thou must doe in Iustice to bee reuenged on me. I will flye from thee, and euer blame my selfe. Then went she downe out of her chamber, taking to the walke she had describ'd to Am∣philanthus, and Pamphilia, there shee walked like a hurt Deere, staying no where, vexed, and tormented, thinking stirring, and running would helpe, but all proou'd contrary, she must yeeld to her hurt, and lye downe with her harme. There she pass'd vp and downe till a boat came in: she asked of what place they were; they said of Metelin: when they returnd, they an∣swer'd instantly when they had vnladed. In conclusion, shee agreed with them, and so return'd better quieted, because businesse employed her. She was now resolu'd to goe, who to take with her she must thinke of, what man∣ner to goe in, what prouision to carry with her. These employd her wits, so as shee grew to be a little pacified, and these things to put the other out of minde, at least the mindes trouble with perpetuall vexation. But when she was ready to take her iourney, many great Ladies came to visit her, as if sent to hinder her; she tooke it so, and although a Princesse who loued noble conuersation, yet comming vnwished for, it now perplexed her; her iudge∣ment commanded, and she entertained them, discharged her Bark, and staid with them. Her sorrow she couer'd, or masked, with the absence of her Nephew; but Lucenia was one, and one bred in Loues Schoole, she knew her paine, and the cause of it, and wrought so well on it, as she had what shee came for, and left Antissia, a more vnquiet woman then shee found her•• adding to the aptnesse of her amorous nature, correcting her thoughts, and making dangerous additions to her passion; if one womans hate bee harmefull, what must two bee, and specially two such? for she had meri∣ted ••ll, though Lucenia reuenged not.

Amphilanthus I pittie thee, who for all noble parts oughtest to be admi∣red, and a••t reuerenced of all, being matchlesse in all vertues, except thy lo••e; for inconstancy, was, and is the onely touch thou hast, yet can I not say, but thou art constant to loue; for neuer art thou out of loue, but variety

is thy staine, yet least is that blame of any, were not perill to ensue, plots laid to destroy thee, yet wilt thou passe them all, and be thy selfe; Women are ominous to thee, shunne them, and loue her firmely who onely loueth thee.

Her secret iourney, or pilgrimage thus put by, she remain'd like a Nettle, hardly scaping the weeders hand, but growing on, turnes to seede, and from thence springs hundreds as stinging: so did she, (scaping out of good Natures corrections) ouergrowe by enuious absence, to the seeding plenty of all mischiefes growth, Now she commends her first action, prayes for the proceeding: loues Dolorindus if hee performes her command, vowes hatred to him if hee attempt it not, and so farre it spread it selfe, as when she confessed him too weake to encounter her Loue-growne-enemy, she suf∣fered Treason to say he ought to be employed, and that hee should reuenge her wrong, so as she was so farre from fearing his harme, as she ••tudied waies how to harme him, & hauing found them, wished them al presenting them∣selues before Dolorindus, that he might chuse the most mischeuing, & most speeding hurt for him. Sometime Lucenia staid with her, and so bewitched her with her witty person now, as she would returne with her; vertuous friendship neuer linked so fast, as those conditions tied themselues together, and all employd against the worthiest man the earth carried, the true summe for excellent light of his time, and for whose sake the Sunne would hide himselfe, in griefe hee could not shine so bright as his glory did; Fame spreading like his beames about him, rich, faire, cleare, and hott equally, and surpassing him,

Lucenia and Antissia knew this, this encreased loue to breed enuy, and malice, because they enioyed him not, and so in the end, all his vertues were but waies for their ill to trauell in, the more to hate him; for, the brauer they confessed him, the greater worth to be in him, the fuller happinesse shee was blest with that held his loue, made them to see their losse, and as from twilight to Sunne rising they increased in fury, and so built their ill, vpon his excellent deseruings; thus may goodnesse be a ground to ill, and thus wrought they. They that before heard not his name without heart-leaping, now with scorne to thinke that cruell thought of being left, his remem∣brance is with cursings as with prayers, with blames as with ioyes, and all chang'd like Snow to durty water, wherein they drown'd their amorous thoughts, and brought forth cutting Sedges of hatred against the exquisite Prince, springing out of the foule mud of their deuilish dispositions. At last it was agreed on, that if he escaped from their hands, hee should be in∣uited, or trayned thither, (being assured of the secret car••iage of their plo••s) and to some other place where they might haue their ends. Enuy, what canst thou bring forth more in abundance, then the richest roote of good∣nesse? like a staulke on which diuerse colours, and seuerall flowers grow: not like a pure Lilly of chaste, and vertuous loue. Pamphilia in this flouri∣shed, who longed for nothing but power, or meanes to expresse her loue by; She now in her Country, alone spent her time as a faithfull louer doth, neuer but thinking of him, calling all delightfull times they had enioyed, to mind, ioying in them, as in blessings, neuer thinking of blessednes, but when shee might thinke of seeing him; to which end, and to couer her longing with some probable occasion of bringing her neerer to him, shee calld her

people, and after she had gained their consents for a iourney to visite her a∣ged father, being mooued vnto it, both by reason of his weaknesse, and the de••ire he had once to see all his children together, which hee should doe, at their returne from Albania; be••ides to meete her mo••t honord friend, the widdow Queene of Naples, whom in many yeares she had not seene; these were faire motiues, had there not beene a fayrer, and more deere one, which darkned these with the greater light of loue.

Well, she prepares for the iourney in infinite pompe, she goes attended on by the best of the Kingdome; a graue, and good Councell she left behind her, to gouerne in her absence. As she was ready to Shippe, there arriued Orilena, of purpose come to visit her, but finding her ready to leaue Pam∣philia, she consented to accompany her into Morea. As they sayled, all their discourse was of loue, Orilena being as fit a companion as might bee for the sad Queene: both their loues absent, both extreamly louing. While they were at Sea, they made verses, comparing the euening to the coolnesse of absence, the day break, to the hope of sight, and the warmth to the enioy∣ing, the waues to the swelling sorrowes their brests indured, and euery thing they made to serue their turnes, to expresse their affections by. By the Sun they sent their hot passions to their loues; in the cold Moones face writ Cha∣racters of their sorrowes for their absence, which she with pale wan visage deliuered to their eyes, greeu'd as to the death, she could not helpe those a∣morous Ladyes; yet Pamphilia was most to be pittied, because her loue was most, and most painefull to endure, as being haunted with two hellish Spirits of keeping it secret, and bearing the waight it selfe. The other Lady had more libertie, so more ease, for she might boldly say she wanted Philarchos, and bewayled his absence, yet neuer did shee so, but Pamphilia sighed with her, and so sister-like condoled with her, as she exceld her in passion, which made some eroniously say, that counterfeting was more excellēt then true suffering, because iudgment gouerns where passions are free, when ful∣ly possest they master beyond, and so expresse not so well, as if ruld with discretion; for an Actor knowes when to speake, when to sigh, when to end: a true feeler is as wrapped in distempers, and only can know how to beare. Many of these passages there were in dispute, none scaping censure, how great, or good soeuer.

These Ladyes standing one day vpon the Hatches, they saw a little Barque come towards them; Pamphilia commanded the Boat to be called to them, which was done, when out of her came a well knowne Squire from him, she most lou'd, he kneeld, and presented her with letters, and in them a token f••om him; she tooke them with such ioy, as her heart, did like the waues, swell: her colour came into her face, and she was so surprized with content, as she could not tell what to say vnto him; at last she remembred that she was not alone, but that she must consider all, eyes were not her seruants, she corrected herselfe, yet could not blame that passion for so deseruing a cause. My deere said she, I cannot hide my happines, nor am I sorry for it, since it is for thee, I suffer this, vnlesse that holding it so deere, I may grudge any should partake of it. Yet calling her sences more about her, to avoyd suspi∣tion, she demanded how Parselius, Rosindy, and Philarchos did, and Am∣philanthus said she, I hope also doth well. That came out so sweetely, and

louingly, as one might iudge, shee asked for the rest for his sake, because she would name him, or named him last, as more to sticke in memory. Orilena was so desirous to know, how her Philarchos did, as shee nere heeded how Pamphilia carried her selfe. Surpassing passion, excellent, still gouerne, how delicate is thy force? How happie thy rule, that makes such excellent women thy subiects? made so by thy gouernment, instructed by thy skill, taught by thy learning, and indeed made by thee. Bee thou still, and worthily adored, and this Pamphilia doth agree to; excellent Queene, the true paterne of excellent affection, and affections truth. Shee then called the Messenger, and hauing called her Spirits to her, asked particu∣larly of the estate of Albania.

Hee related the whole discourse, as instructed to set forth his Lord to his owne loue; shee needed not much inuiting to that banquet, this discourse fed her day and night. They talked of the warres, and of the braue Champions, whose honours were neuer greater, then when extolled by her. At last to Morea they came, the King and Queene comming ••wo dayes iourney to meete her, the most perfect Queene her Cosin, ••oying in her sight, as in heauenly happinesse, for so she held her Deare. Great ioy was made for her comming, and still augmentations of that by ••he newes from the Army euer bringing good. Vrania reioyced, and Philistella was ouercome with content: sweete Selarina was as glad as a∣ny, but her passions were moderate, and discreetelie held themselues within, yet shee would finely (though in shew carelessely) inquire how Antissius prospered. The other Ladies would smile at it, and some∣••imes to make sport so pretily anger her, as was delightfull pastime; eue∣••y one enuious to haue each others passions knowne; not doubting but ••heir owne were equally discouered, iealous onely of each others power, ••or being better able to conceale their flames then themselues; here did Loue truly, and royally triumph.

Pamphilia gotten alone, looked as often on the token, as her hearts eyes looked on the sender; it was his picture: shee kissed it, shee laid it ••nd wore it continually in her breast; carefull shee was, least her Cham∣ber-maide might see it, because it was more then her reseruednesse did warrant, yet rather had shee all should know and see it, then bee one minute hindred from the enioying it so neare; My deare selfe (would ••hee say) what happinesse find I in thee? how am I blessed alone in ••hee? and aboue all by thee? Deerer part of my soule, take the other ••o thee, pure loue calles thee to acceptance, and thou doest, I hope, take what I so firmely giue thee. What shall I say? thou sayst thou wilt not ••ee vngratefull, I assure my selfe of that, and blame my selfe extremely, ••f I said any thing might make thee thinke I doubted thee; thou knowest I neuer vrged so much, as by question to know, if thou diddest loue mee. I ••aw it, what needed I to aske, much lesse to feare. No sweetest loue, I loue ••oo much to mistrust, and loue thee more then to demaund assurance, which needes not, where such confidence remaines, nor is fit, since if man-like ••hou shouldest once liue to change, thy change would grieue my heart, but kill my soule to know, thou wert both changing and forsworne, falsehood were double here, and single euen enough to murder me: but those deare

eyes assure mee, those lippes swell in anger I should thus dispute then, and now dearest, take mine vnto thine, which with whispering let my breath say, I doe long onely to see them moue againe, and tell mee of thy loue, soules com∣fort; how I see in my soule spirit-like cleare, and bodilesse from corruption, gouerne and command like loue; a thing adored and reuerenced, but not seene, except to louers: so art thou to me, my spirit, and my All.

While she was thus in loues best clothes apparreld, the brauest of Ladies of her time came to her, finding her in her ancient lo••ing walk; she met her with ioy and respect, knowing her so worthy, as she was onely fit to bee mo∣ther to such a sonne, who alone deserued so matchlesse a mother. To her shee went, who in her armes entertained her, that humbly tooke her fauour with a low reuerence, which loue made her yeeld her. No time was lost be∣tweene them, for each minute was fild with store of wit, which passed be∣tweene them, as grounds are with shadowes where people walke: and the longer they discoursed still grew as much more excellent, as they, to night∣ward seeme longer.

Among other speech the Queene of Naples asked Pamphilia what shee heard of the warres in Albania. Shee discoursed it all vnto her, but the last busines seemd the strangest, & vnusuallest, said she, although Polidorus his for∣tune in his wiues affection was rare, the discourse was this. Nicholarus (being one of the Kings of Albania, as they falsely termed themselues) a Gentleman indued with all vertuous parts of learning, courage, and in truth, al that could be required in a braue man, yet was encountred with a stronger enemy then his iudgement could resist, which was loue, and loue of one, who for his mi∣sery loued another. Nicholarus came oft where she was, oft shewed his affe∣ction, the other came with him, as if to glory in his mastery, or to enioy with triumph what was refused this King, as a prisoner led, is a more glorious spectacle, then to know he is in a Tower: so are inioyings before refused more happy, and prized, then if by stealth, or kept in pri••ate, though loue can bee held as deare and best. The poore Prince hauing a Scarfe by cun∣ning loue throwne ouer his eyes, neuer misdoubted any thing, still louing, and cherishing him more then any, because he saw she respected him. Once to her house he came, where they were entertained, as their places and dig∣nities required, but the louer as loue commanded. The Prince, or King, or what you will call him, because in his Neighbours Countrie, watched as hee thought an opportunitie, and in the morning when they were to meete the other Kings who were neare to that place, assembled about an especiall businesse of hunting: her husband louing that sport wel, was soonest vp, and called the King; hee employed him in some other businesse, while hee went vnto his wife, whom hee found in her chamber in bed, attending (not his Maiestie) but the King of her heart. Shee rose vp in her bed, and ope∣ned the Curtaine with loue, and ioy in her face and eyes. Hee tooke it meant to him when hee perceiued it, for hard was such a ioy as shee ex∣pected, to bee drawne backe on the suddaine; but when, like violence followed, for her smile was frowning, her ioy displeasure, her rising to em∣brace him, to turning her face from him, her speech to welcome him, to crying out, I wonder (said shee) m•• maids haue thus betrayed me, lea∣uing the Chamber open to my shame. Alas, my Lord, I wonder what

you meane to come this way, it is an ill one, and vnfit for you. I haue not mistaken, said hee, I come to visit you, and to intreate you. What to doe my Lord, said she? To pittie mee, said hee. To dishonour my selfe, cryd she. Why? if you can but pittie mee, you may, answered hee. Pittie of my selfe makes mee refuse you, replyed shee. What can you pittie in your selfe, said hee? to denie mee for? The honour (answered shee) which calls to mee for respect, and care, which borne with me, is my fathers, and my brothers, and my houses, these claime my care and pitey.

None neede know your fauour to mee, but your selfe and my selfe, who with all affection aske it, and with all truth will keepe it close. I cannot, nor will not trust mine owne soule with vnworthinesse, lest ac∣cusation iustly merited, fall on mee, and inwardlie afflict mee; therefore my Lord I beseech you (said shee) bee satisfied, and as you protest to loue mee, make demonstration of it, and leaue mee pure from touch of any ill, but your discourse, which so farre hath troubled mee, as I truly sweare, I neuer was more molested in my dayes.

Hee with that drew his sword, whether to threaten her with harme, if shee consented not, or to make her yeeld, by offering violence on himselfe, I know not, but shee was distemperd with the manner, and wished her loue, or husband, the worse of the two by much, had been present. The better happened, for her seruant came at the instant, hin∣dred it seemed onely by higher powers to stay, to serue her, his affec∣tion else bringing him vsuallie rather before, then after time, and so soone some times, as hee hath been forced to vse his best wits for his excuse, yet now hee came late, but in best time for her. His comming in, made the King start, and straight put vp his Sword, making some faind, and so idle cause for drawing it. Hee straight left the roome, and the other attended him, till hee saw him horsed; then returning to his loue, came to excuse, and to bee certaine; excuse himselfe for stay, and to bee resolued of his being there in that sort. She wept for both, t••l∣ling him, that hee had betrayed her, hee grieued to bee taxed so, yet with much adoe gaind the truth; then was hee ioyed, and tormented, ioyed with her loyaltie, vexed that his negligence had giuen such ad∣uantage to his Riuall.

All or both causes of trouble at last were ended, and concluded with the summe of blessednesse, content in affection. The King yet left it not thus, but pursues with faire words, and letters what hee sought; Shee with as faire (but not so kinde) replies, gain'd that hee troubled her not in some moneths with such importunitie.

At last hee writ some Verses to her, wherein hee commended varietie in loue, as inuiting her vnto it, being the most pleasing and fruitfull, telling her whom hee could loue, on all causes and reasons, as either beauty, greatnesse, wit, or for varieties sake it selfe could moue him. The cop∣pie of his I haue not, but most excellent Madam (said shee) by hers you may see what hee hath said, and hers bee these, and these your most excellent Sonne hath sent me, for Nicholarus is his prisoner, taken, and saued by him in the last Battaile, that Countrie wholly by the matchlesse King of Naples conquered, and won; for by his comming, Polidorus was vanquished,

and Nicholarus quite ouerthrowne, now remaining but one more to be sub∣dued, and then Steriamus hath all, and for that, all must thanke Amphilan∣thus. And hee your loue (said the Queene) who thus commendeth him. She blushed to heare her iudgement so free with her. She kissed her, and willd her not to feare, though she discouerd her, but proceed sweet Neece, said shee. The Verses Madam (said she) were these.

THe ioy yon say the Heauens in motion trie Is not for change, but for their constancy. Should they stand still, their change you then might moue, And serue your turne in praise of fickle loue. That pleasure is not but diuersified, Plainely makes proofe your youth, not iudgement tried. The Sunnes renewing course, yet is not new, Since tis but one set course he doth pursue, And though it faigned be, that he hath chang'd, Twas when he from his royall seate hath raing'd: His glorious splendor, free from such a staine, Was forc'd to take new shapes, his end to gaine. And thus indeed the Sunne may giue you leaue, To take his worst part, your best to deceiue. And whereof he himselfe hath been ashamd, Your greatnesse praiseth, fitter to be blamd, Nothing in greatnes loues a strange delight, Should we be gouernd then by appetite? A hungry humour, surfetting on ill, Which Glutton-like with cramming will not fill. No Serpent can bring forth so foule a birth, As change in loue, the hatefullst thing on earth. Yet you doe venture this vice to commend, As if of it, you Patron were, or Friend. Foster it still, and you shall true man be Who first for change, lost his felicitie. Riuers (tis true) are clearest when they run, But not because they haue new places won; For if the ground be muddy where they fall, The clearenesse with their change, doth change with all, Lakes may be sweet, if so their bottoms be; From rootes, not from the leaues our fruit we see. But loue too rich a prize is for your share, Some little idle liking he can spare Your wit to play withall; but true loue must Haue truer hearts to lodge in, and more iust, While this may be allow'd you for loues might, As for dayes glory framed was the night. That you can outward fairenesse so affect, Shewes that the worthier part you still neglect.

Or else your many changings best appeares; For beauty changeth faster then the yeares: And that you can loue greatnesse, makes it knowne, The want of height in goodnesse of your owne. Twas not a happinesse in ancient time To hold plurality to be no crime, But a meere ignorance, which they did mend, When the true light did glorious lusture lend. And much I wonder you will highly rate The brutish loue of Nature, from which state Reason doth guide vs, and doth difference make From sensuall will, true reasons lawes to take. Wer't not for Reason, we but brutish were, Nor from the beasts did we at all differ; Yet these you praise, the true stile opinion, By which truths gouernment is shroudly gon. Honor by you esteemd a title, true, A title cannot claimd by change as due. It is too high for such low worth to reach, Heauen gifts bestow'th as to belong to each. And this true loue must in reuenge bestow On you, his sacred power, with paine to know: A loue to giue you fickle, loose, and vaine, Yet you with ceaselesse griefe, seeke to obtaine Her fleeting fauours, while you wayling proue, Meerely for punishment a steddy loue: Let her be faire, but false, great, disdainefull, Chast, but to you, to all others, gainefull, Then shall your liberty and choice be tide To paine, repentance, and (the worst sinne) pride. But if this cannot teach you how to loue, Change still, till you can better counsell proue: Yet be assur'd, while these conceits you haue, Loue will not owne one shot (you say) he gaue. His are all true, all worthy, yours vniust, Then (changing you) what can you from him trust. Repentance true felt, oft the Gods doth win, Then in your Waine of loue, leaue this foule sin: So shall you purchase fauour, bannish shame, And with some care obtaine a louers name.

These Verses being sent to Nicholarus, by the same messenger that brought his, he ••ell into so violent a despaire, and hate of himselfe, as being more sub∣iect to passion, then strength of iudgemēt, or power of vertue, he grew distra∣cted, or indeed stark mad, so as care was had of him, and gouernors set about him, as ouer his estate; til at last by dilligence, & faithful Phisitions, & seruants, he recouerd; but how; only to be made more miserable, or to haue iuster cause to be mad, as if the other were not sufficient; for then succeded the inuasion

and he gaind his wits to see his Country lost, and feele his weaknes in estate, as before in sence, yet was he happier then, for that want, made him not want it, this finds it. In his mad fits hee once writ to her, and would needs con∣uey it by a Romanian, who then wayted on him. He honestly deliuered it but more honestly wept, and bewailed his Lords misfortune. She caried it brauely, and that is all can be said; for what should shee, or could shee doe louing an other? she was (no question) sorry in a noble sort, but not in re∣spect, that had he beene other she must haue runne a greater danger in ha∣zard of her honor, and breach in faith to her beloued. This made her ima∣gine the other the lesse, and her fortune the better.

The same Lady, and her louer likewise, (but at seuerall times) were brought to the victorious King, whose pardons he gaind, being as mercifull, as braue; and this relation haue I from the Prince of Sauoy, a Gentleman ex∣cellently bred, and discreetely liuing, good as any, learned aboue ordinary Princes, and delicatly skill'd in Poetry. This discourse hee hath put in verse, which is that I meant hee sent me, and daintily expressed all the passions: The Queene of Naples desired to see it, shee promise the perfor∣mance; then walked they a little farther, still taulking of loue, the braue Queene longing to heare the young Queene confesse, shee willing enough if to any shee would haue spoken it, but hee, and shee must only bee rich in that knowledge.

In the euening the other Princesse came vnto them, and so all attended the rare Lady into the Palace, who was as perfect in Poetry, and all other Princely vertues as any woman that euer liu'd, to bee esteemed excellent in any one, shee was stor'd with all, and so the more admirable. With in a short time after the King of Morea intending to meete the Princes, who hee imagined would bee in that time vpon their returne, determi∣ned to encounter them, (more cleerely to see his loue) for hee tooke a iourney towards them, and so resolued to remoue his Court to Corinth, that famous, auncient, and fayre Citty; there hee purposed to stay, and to haue the fitter opportunity to entertaine them: how happy a resoluti∣on in shew this was for the amorous Ladyes, louers can well, and best coniecture.

Being arriued at that beautyfull place, the young louing Princesses must needs see the Sea, and not only that, but goe vpon it; Pamphilia went to the shoare with them, but then considered her grauity was too much in the opinion of the world to enter into so slight an action, wherefore desi∣red pardon. They would not allow it her•• but with sweete perswasions, and inticements got her a bord with them; they sayled some leagues from the shoare with much pleasure, (and as they cald it) content, Pamphilia and Vrania discoursing, Philistella, and Selarina: Orilena was at that time with the Queene of Naples, whom they would not call, least their iour∣ney might bee hindred; thus they plotted to deceiue themselues, and ranne from safety to apparent danger, for what is the Sea but vncertain∣tie.

Why should Pamphilia, (vnlesse on necessity) venture her constant selfe in such a hazard, as if to tempt her enemy? which surely shee did, for she grew angry to see she was made to serue her perfectiōs, & in fury waxed in raged,

the Shippe grew kindly with bending her selfe to each waue to aske pitty, and bowing with reuerence to demaund safety, and returne. But shee the more sought to, like a proud insolent woman, grew the more s••out, and haughty, regarding nothing more then her owne pride and striuing to mo∣lest those beautyes. The Ladyes cry'd; the Sea vnmercifully stubborne, was deafe to their laments. They besought, she came vp to the very sids of the Ship, as if to harken, but then slid downe, and smild at their feare, and rose againe in glorious height to behold more of their sorrowes. O said Pamphi∣lia, when did I euer play so foolish a part? iustly may I bee condemned for this error, and blamd for so much lightnes; how she despisd her selfe, and complaind to her loue, how she accused all but him, how she wept, and as it were saw by the course, a comming harme to her soule, which then, and af∣ter, for a long space best knew the hurt, wayling in condemning her. The storme continued, the winds calling loud to the Sea, to assist, or continue her fury. To the shoare of either side they could not get; Fortune would not permit ought but misfortune to gouerne; at last they were quite carried out of the Gulfe, and being in the Adriatike Sea, the Shippe was tossed as plea∣sed Destiney, till at last she was cast vpon a Rocke, and split, the braue La∣dyes saued, while she a while lay tumbling, and beating her selfe, as hoping to make way into the hard stone, for those, who could pierce the stoniest heart with the least of their looks.

When they were got vpon the Rocke, and seeing no place but it selfe, (which appear'd to be at first but small) they were in an excessiue perplexity, wishing rather in the storme to haue beene swallowed, then brought thither to some hope, and then cast into the depth of Dispaire, except it were to be famished there.

Pamphilia most patiently tooke it, at least most silently: She climbing the Rocke till at the top she discouer'd a fine Country, and discerned before her a delicate plaine, in the midst whereof was a most sumptuous building, of Marble, shee ioyfully cal'd to the other, who followed her, and viewing it, I feare this storme, and aduenture said Vrania, euer since I was carried to Ciprus; if it be an inchantment, woe be to vs, who may be bewitched to the misery of neuer seeing our desires fulfil'd, once was I made wretched by such a mischeife. Let it be what it will said Pamphilia, I will see the end of it, led as in a dreame by the leader, not with bewitching dull spirit but craft. You may said Vrania, hauing had such suc••esse in the last, yet take heed, all aduentures were not framed for you to finish. Nor for you to be enchan∣ted in, answered shee. So they went on, the two other marking what they did, who sent some one, or two of their seruants to discouer what this was. They found a round building like a Theater, carued curiously, and in migh∣ty pillars; light they might in many places discerne betweene the pillars of the vpper row, but what was within, they could not discouer, nor find the gate to enter it. With this they returnd, the Ladyes proceeded, and arriuing there, found it iust as the seruants had described; but more curiously be∣holding it, they found in one of the pillars, a letter ingrauen, and on an o∣ther, another letter. They vnderstood not the meaning, while Pamphilia (more desirous of knowledge then the rest) went as far behind that pillar as she could, and there perceiued a space, as if halfe of the pillar, and then a

plaine place, & so halfe of the other behind it had left a passage through thē. She came backe and finding her imagination likely, she lookd' vpon the mid∣dle plaine which made the space, while the foure pillars making a square, and therein found a key-hole. She looked for the key, while the other three did likewise busie them selues in such search, hauing found in euery plaine such a place, Pamphilia at last found the key, at the foote of one of the pillars. She tooke it, and tryd to open it, which presently it did, as if opening it selfe willingly to her power, or renting it selfe asunder, to let her goe into it. In∣stantly appeard as magnificent a Theater, as Art could frame. The other Princes seeing it open came to Pamphilia and all of them stood gazing on it; there was a Throne which nine steps ascended vnto, on the top were fowre rich chayers of Marble, in which were most delicate, and sumptuous im∣broider'd cushions, a Carpet of rich embrodery lying before, and vnder them. Needs this richnes must be neerer beheld, and (like women) must see nouelties; nay euen Pamphilia was inticed to vanity in this kind. In they goe, and venture to ascend the Throne, when instantly the sweetest musicke, and most inchanting harmony of voyces, so ouerruld their sences, as they thought no more of any thing, but went vp, and sate downe in the chayers. The gate was instantly lock'd againe, and so was all thought in them shut vp for their comming forth thence, till the man most louing, and most beloued, vsed his force, who should release them, but himselfe be inclosed till by the freeing of the sweetest and loueliest creature, that poore hahits had disgui∣sed greatnesse in, he should be redeem'd, and then should all bee finished. To say these braue princes were in paine, I should say amisse, for all the com∣fort their owne hearts could imagine to them selues, they felt there, seeing before them, (as they thought) their loues smiling, and ioying in them; thus flattering loue deceiu'd the true, and brought contrary effects to the most good, and this those braue Princes felt, when at the concluding of the last battel, iust as they had takē possessiō of the greater townes of that King∣dome, and setled all things in quiet, receiued the people into subiection, ta∣ken their oaths to Steriamus, crownd him as their manner was in the Army, and so returnd to the cheife Citty, resoluing thence to send newes to Morea, and euery one to their loues, of their braue and happy successe, there arriued a messenger with the heauy tidings of the losse of the whole worlds beauty. Steriamus fell into such passion, as none thought he would haue enioyed the Kingdome, longer then one doth their loue in a vision, crying out, haue I lo••t the Kingdome of my hearts content, to gaine a poore Country of earth, and durt? haue I gain'd to loose more then earth can giue mee? must I bee crowned King to dye a begger? neuer was man in such perplexity; nor any so molested as Amphilanthus, who wisely couered his passions, much con∣demning their indiscretions that went with them to Sea, lamented, and har∣tily greeued for the misaduenture, and so resolu'd to goe instantly in search of them. Olorandus had arriued there some weekes before, and well, for the last battaile was hard, and terrible, as being the last the Rebells could hope on, all but this last ouercome; He helpd well, and so had Perissus in the for∣mer, without whose asistance, the businesse had not so cleerely pass'd, yet did they not fully end with their victory, but with the losse of almost as many men as the other partly lost in that battaile: so as only their gaine was

by the noble valour of the peerelesse Kings, but now must they vndergoe a more dangerous busines••Amphilanthus and Ollorandus went together, Ste∣riamus and Selarinus parted, Antissius going with him, Steriamus would goe alone, and by none could be disswaded; Leandrus with Parselius; Dolorindus was gone before, neuer shewing his face after his folly concerning Amphilan∣thus. Perissus and Philarchos ioynd companions. Excellent care was taken in the choice of the Lieutenants, the two first met Knights by Amphilanthus had the charge as principall of the Counsell of Albania, being of great bloud, and Tireneus of Epirus, Philarchos, and Perissus went to Morea, to comfort the King and Queene, and to see Orilena. Rosindy and Polarchos tooke together, but first went to Macedon, to see Meriana. Thus all deuided, Amphilanthus must first be attended, who hauing the part allotted him to goe to the Sea (as if the businesse most concerned him, and the hopefullest) shipped in Epirus as soone as he could, and came all along the Coa••t, visiting euery Iland, and searching in all ships for tidings, complaining in himselfe, that such misfor∣tune should be, and at so much an vnlooked for time, when all happinesse ap∣peared ready to embrace them. As hee passed, his heart on a sudden leaped within him, but straight againe teares followed, to see how he was void of all comfort, yet did it truly offer him helpe, but he must not take nor giue it, for by the fatall Rocke, he passed, when that ioy was in him, and no sooner pas∣sed, but was possessed againe with sorrow. Alas Pamphilia his helpe was neare thee, but thou must not haue it lent thee, but loose more. A ship at last came towards him, to demaund newes, and if they came from Greece, of Am∣philanthus.

He made answere himselfe, that he was the man they sought. My Lord said he, your brother by me salutes you, and desires your speedy returne, the cause you shall by these letters vnderstand. He tooke them, and found that a great warre was begun betweene two famous, and great houses in Italy, by reason that the Duke of Milans younger sonne, had stolne away the Duke of Vrbins onely daughter; the businesse at first was but betweene themselues, then grew further, all neighbours taking part with them, so as Italy was all on fi••e, and the Regent no more respected, then as their kings brother, but pow∣er he had none, or very little, so as hee remained at Rome in the Castle, and thence sent to his brother to returne and gouerne, whose sight they all thought would appease the fury. He was grieued to goe from seeking her, and them he loued so dearely, yet this was an occasion to bee looked vnto, nor could it bee long that it was likely to hold him; wherefore by Ol∣lorandus his aduise, and the care hee had of his poore Countrie, for her sake more then his owne to preuent the ruine, hee bent his course that way.

Alas vnfortunate Lady, what will become of you? this is the last time for some moneths, hee shall come so neare, but yeares before his affection bee so much. Vnluckily did Fortune prouide for thee, when blessings on∣ly kisse like strangers, but haue their dwellings other where.

Hee arriued in Italy, presently letting his comming be knowne, all flocked vnto him, and as when a ciuill warre in a Country hath made parties, yet when a common enemy comes, they all ioyne against him: so did they flee now from the partakings, but runne to happinesse and welcome. He exami∣ned the cause, found matters ill on both sides, yet at last with power, loue

and iudgement, appeased them all, and setled Italy in as braue peace and quiet as euer it was, flourishing now doubly, as in riches, and the ioy of such a King. While he remained there, much people frequented thither, and the fame of his acts, brought most eyes to behold him, and as he returned, so flew the report of his being there with them; whereupon the King of Dalmati•• sent Embassadors to treat of a marriage, twixt his daughter, and Amphilan∣thus, a thing long before spoken of, and wished, but this father would neuer heare of it during his life, now reuiued againe, and with much earnestnesse pursued. The King made a courteous, and ciuill answer to the Embassadour, but said, for marriage, hee did desire to be excused, till he knew by his owne labour certainely what was become of his Sister and Cosin, then hee would come himselfe into Dalmatia, and satisfie the King to his full content. This answer was sufficient for the time; thus resolued he to goe in the search ap∣pointed, and to that end (hauing called the Princes together, who were all met, and those from Albania returnd) gaue charge of his estate to the Coun∣s••ll making an old graue man of much reuerence in the Country, and of the house of Florence, President of the Counsell; his brother he would haue set∣led againe, but he desired to bee excused, and to haue the order of Knight∣hood, that with the rest of the braue Princes, hee might seeke his sister, and Cosins. The King refused him not, but himselfe gaue him the order, and then parted he one way with Ollorandus, the young Leonius another way by himselfe, hauing none but an Esquire with him. Amphilanthus changed his armour, and colours, making all tawny, as if forsaken, which was but the badge of the Liuerie hee gaue her soone after, who best deserued from him, and therefore least merited that reward; he also gaue himselfe another name, and was cald the Lost Man. Ollorandus must likewise alter, else one would make the other knowne, wherefore he contrariwise cald himselfe, the Hap∣py Knight, carrying in his Sheild Victory, crownd with Loue. Thus they trauelled vncertainely where to stay, or land, letting the Marriners guide them as they pleased, who were strangers to them, and of Dalmatia, whither they carried them; they asked no more questions, but landed, and so went vp into the Countrie, comming into a Wood, which was great, and euery way thicke and desart; they yet traueld, when they came to a way that par∣ted in three, they stood in question what to doe, at last they resolued to take the middle way, and by no meanes to deuide themselues. The course they tooke, brought them to a mighty Hill, whose curled sides were so thick with trees, as no possibility was to go downe, being so steepe, as they must hope to do a miracle, and walke on the crownes of trees, or els fall to their ruine, like Icarus, melted for presumption: so they might bee bruised for proud hope, and broken in their fall. They lighted from their horses, to trie if so they might goe on, but all was in vaine, so as they kept the Hill, till they came to a place where trees had bin cut; this was little better for their horses, yet some thing more easie for them. Here with much difficulty and paine (which to aduenturous Knights is called pleasure, their life being a meere vexation, wilfully disguised to content) they got downe, and then came into a most louely Vally, which had been the perswasiue part to their descending, loueli∣nesse being as attractiue, as the Adamant, hauing a property in loue to Iron: so louelinesse hath to affection.

In this vally they rid a prety space, but ••ot one word past betweene thē; to a

Riuer they came, fierce, and violent in the streame; no way might bee found to passe it in many miles riding, till at last they came vnto a Bridge, which was defended by two Knights. They would passe; the Guarders refused, vnlesse they would fulfill the orders there. They desired but to know what they were, and they as willingly would obey, as they demand. The orders (said they) are these: you must iust with vs two, one after another; if you o∣uercome the first, you must proceed to the next, and if vanquish both, the passage is free, but one must venture first: nor his companion helpe, but stay his turne, and so fight with both. The vnmatchable King would take that taske on him, his companion standing by, he began, and brauely concluded it with the Victorie. Then seeing no more to be done, he tooke the Swords of the vanquished, and hung them on a Pillar hard by, commanding them not to touch them, but to goe to the King of that Country from him, and to ••ell, what had befallen them, and sweare to carry no swords for two yeares, nor euer more to defend so slight a cause. They desired first to goe to the Lady, who had set them there, and tell her, then to doe the rest; desiring to ••now who had ouercome them. Hee answered, the Lost Man; they found some thing was in that name, wherefore they would not presse, but left him, promising to obserue his commands.

The two Companions rid, till they came againe to a Wood, but not so ••hicke as the other, but of great huge trees, and such a place it was, as offerd delights, to most hearts to stay, and receiue it there. The bodies white as snow, testifying innocency; and their tops so large, and thickly spread, as expressed glory for their purenesse. In this place they lighted, giuing their horses to their Squires, and the very content of that solitarinesse brake their silence. Here (said Amphilanthus) is a place fit for such a creature as my selfe to dwell in; here alone am I fit to inhabit, and leaue all gouernment to him that can rule, shunning that, when I cannot rule my selfe. When did I euer see you my dearest friend (said Ollorandus) in this tune? What haue you done with your spirit? where drownd your iudgement? and how buried your selfe? What if you liue to bee crossed in your desires? belieue it, it is not to other end, then to make you happier with the sweet meeting, of what the misse will make dearer to you, when passed. Pamphilia cannot bee lost Vrania drowned, Philistella cast away, or Selarina stolne. What vexeth you, if they bee carried to a farre place; if the worst, as those parts are full of en∣chantments?

Enchanted (cryd Amphilanthus) deare friend, tis we that are enchanted from finding the truth of their losse: they are lost, and weeled by the same Deuill in ignora••ce, the more to torture and scorne vs. Ollorandus perswa∣ded, and spake houres to him, but he was deafe, or speechlesse, for not a word could he get of him; his sighes were his answers, his groanes his speech, and thus they walked, till they met a Lady (as she seemd to be) in mourning at∣tire, her faire eyes shewing more griefe, then her apparrell sadnesse, yet had they red cirkles about them, threatning reuenge for their sorrow; her traine was only one Page, who shewd as little mirth, as his Mistris did content•• they came one a little before the other, as if sorrow could haue most liberty in lonelines, and therefore although but two, would goe asunder. Amphilan∣thus sad, found, or sadnes found for him, that distresse in her demanded his

helpe; wherfore he went to her, curteously demanding, if his seruice might a∣uaile her. Sir, said she, your taw••y liuery so wel suits with my fortune, as if I saw, but that I might from thence ask help; but alas Sir, my misery is but one way to be redrest, my woe no way equald, nor can my afflictions see end, but by the end of me. Miseries face, said he, is so perfectly (yet in delicacy vnfor∣tunately) presented in you, as would make one wish, rather to be thus, misera∣ble, then free otherwise affected; but as in you excellently are these perfecti∣ons, so in me are as excelling crosses. I knowing these, can with more feeling vnderstand yours, and with a more reuengefull mind serue you, hauing that abounding in me; for behold here before you, the man, who neuer saw mo••∣ning ioy, that was not nipt by cold euenings malice. Comparing griefes, said the Lady, are but to augment sorrow, without helpe comming to extremity, but in your discourse I find by you, that you want helpe as well as I. And help only of one like your selfe, said hee, can make me blessed. I will not touch o•• that, said she, though thus I might, since if she were like mee, shee would bee much more pitifull. How can I know that, said he, but thus I may gesse it, that none being able to compare with her, except her owne excellencies, they go∣uernd by her selfe can suffer no comparisons. This shewes you to bee a louer said she, and for that, I bewaile likewise your fortune, for hell cannot inflict•• more terrible torment on a heart, then loues power settles in him. Do you•• spring from that ill, said he? I thought only my starrs had directed me to suc•• distresse. They spring and flow, cryd shee, increase and dwell in this subiect•• May I know the cause said he? Yes said the Lady, if you will promise me par∣don for my boldnes, and tedious discourse which it will proue, and other as∣sistance I need not. Alas (cryd he) that shal be most willingly lent you, thoug•• I may feare as little to helpe you, or my patience being a poore, though nes∣sary vertue. Tell me who you are, said the Lady? I am (reply'd he) cald th•• lost Man, my name little famous here, not hauing done any thing, but again•••• two Knights at a Bridge, from whom I won passage. If you haue done tha•• answerd shee, the more assurance haue I of your worth and valor, for they were two, counted the strongest, and most valliant of this Kingdome, and part of my story toucheth on them, but now haue I cause to be ambitious o•• your knowledge, and by the want of it, reason to distrust the continuance o•• mine own vnblessed destiny, which increase in harmes, pursuing and follow∣ing me. Alas, said the lost Man, what hope is there left, where two such for∣tunes encounter. Onely this said she, that the extremity may change to good out of that confidence, you shall know the vnkind fortune that gouern•• me.

This image of griefe, or rather true griefe, my selfe am called Bellamira•• my father was called Detareus, a great Lord in this Country, and Steward o•• the Kings house, fauoured by him, but at last sent in an Embassage, wherei•• he was lost, wherewith my misery ran on to this height. He had many chil••dren, but most borne to misfortune, my self being his first, as sent the sooner t•• taste of miserie; for being much at the Court with my father, before I kne•• what loue was, I was his prisoner. I pined, sigh, wept, but knew not what th•• paine was, till at last the Tyrant shewed from whence the danger came, bu•• with it shewed the impossibilitie of obtaining, hee hauing setled his affect••••ons in another place, nor had I pride en̄ough to thinke my selfe able to wi••

him from the Princesse, for she it was, hee did affect, a Lady deseruing the title of excellent, had not her pride, and other defacing imperfections, throwne a blacke Scarfe ouer her outward fairenes. This Lady hee loued, but (as afterwards I found) no more constantly then your sex vseth, not meaning to bee a Phaenix among men-louers, for feare of enuy. When I perceiued his eyes somewhat fauourably to bend themselues to me (vnhappy foole that I was) I held and valued it, my certaine comming fortune, gi∣uing mee such hope, as perswaded mee without feare to see the end; which brought mee to the ambition, to bee at a great marriage, which was at the Court, the King gracing a young Lord so farre, as to haue his Nuptials per∣formed there. Then did I more plainely see his respect to me, his shifts and meanes to bee neare mee (certaine proofes of loue), his alluring eyes tel∣mee, his heart appointed them the messengers, to discouer what he sought, which was, that I should vnderstand, I belieued them, and blame mee not braue Sir, for neuer was man Lord of so many womens soules, as this my Lord had rule of, who without flatterie, did deserue it, neuer being vnthank∣full for their loues.

Thus my beliefe gaue my faith, I euer after constantly louing him, hee shewed as much to me: thus we loued, or thought we loued, which no soo∣ner had possession, but freedome followed, as the second to loue, and this brought mee to my onely playing part of miserie. For being young, and full of ioy, inriched with the treasure of his affection, I fell into a snare, closely couered, and so more dangerous, being caught by the craft of one, whose wit was to strong for mee, being as plentifull in wickednesse, as ex∣cesse could make, or execution demonstrate in fulnesse. I so true a louer, as I thought on nothing else, if ought, it was how to indeare myselfe in his fauor, by respecting and louing those hee loued (a way much vsed, and to some profitably practised) this yet threw me into the Gulfe of mischiefe, giuing welcome to that Wretch, who vnder shew of respect, spoild my only com∣fort, stealing like rust, and eating my heart, with as marring, and harmefull deceits. The loue I saw my Lord bare him, was the chiefe cause that made me like him, trusting his choice aboue mine owne iudgement, for I knew him once thanklesse enough to another, from whom my Lord tooke him, to bee his companion-like seruant. His discourse was delicate, and so vnusuall his wit, not lying the same way, that other good ordinary ones did, and so excel∣ling; for what pleasinger then varietie, or sweeter then flatterie? which hee was filled with all, and made mee giue, or credit to a treacherous deceit•• which perswaded mee, hee was full of honest plainenes, so prety, and famili∣ar his discourses were, as shewed a pleasing innocency, yet indued with ad∣mirable learning. This moued me to trust, considering that the greater his knowledge was, the more he should know truth, but contrariwise, he was the breach to my misery. My Lord imploid•• him in some occasions abroad, whe∣ther by his own desire to see, or his wil to be certaine of some forraine know∣ledge, he went away, leauing me secure, and happiest in my Lords affection. Many letters I receiued frō him, wherin he witnessed his truth, which indeed did wel, for only paper and inke said it, not being worthy, or honest enough to blush for his shame; but in the time of his absence, my loued loue, did (like all men) alter: it may bee caused by greater beautie, it may

••ee prouoked to it by my imperfections; but some thing it was, (I dare not say a naturall inconstancy, b••t rather taxe my selfe with the blame, then touch him,) made me vnfortunate. This vnworthy man found it; and as vildly pursued it, smoothing me with flatteries, while he glos'd with him, and her, to whom he had chang'd, as long as euer hee discernd curtesie in him towards me, (which at last most cruelly was likewise taken from mee) hee followed mee, but then look'd on me as a rainy day doth on the earth, after a flattering morning: I was deceiued, and indeed vndone, but twas by him, and for him whom I lou'd, yet after some respect I found, there∣fore I pardon, & forgiue him? Sometime this lasted, succeeding as I should haue told you, the death of my husband, and sonne, by him; for marryed I was, and hauing ambition enough to hold mee from that, in hope of ob∣tayning him for my husband, while the King still fauour'd mee, and (if I might with arrogancy say) loued me. But my loue to my chosen, refus'd all others, and he at last refused me; which, when the crafty vnhonest man directly saw, hee not only (as I told you) left obseruing mee, but proudly sought my loue; if I scornd his basenesse, a thing raised by my Father to be knowne, but made by my Lord to shew in light. Consider you, who needs must know, what can be yeelded by a spirit true to noble birth, and more noble loue to a worme boldly crawling before the best, and lifting vp an vnualued head as if a braue beast; but a beast indeed he was, and I the mis∣fortune had to be a taster of his Villany, vnder colour of visiting me after my losse, he gaind still in my true heart a confidence of his renewing respect to mee, which I prized him for, confessing still, and purely all the flames I felt for his Lord, and soone after this, he shewed his dishonesty, and such neglect, as if I were a blab, or one desirous to doe ill, I might yet mischeefe him. But I am farre from that, and will doe well, let all other ills succeed that can, for goodnesse and truth shall gouerne me; yet because all his fals∣hood shall not remaine hid, or be vnknowne. I will tell you somewhat that hee did, for some-thing it concearns this story. Hee came to me, and found me apt, or tooke occasion to thinke so, for hee spake of loue, and proceeded so farr, as he brought it to my fortune. I answered moderatly, yet so home to my owne hart, as he saw, I was the same, how euer he was chan∣ged, for whose change my affliction was, and so I discouer'd my paines, and sorrowes, as he said, I complain'd fitly to be commiserated, and that he pit∣tied me. Doe not so said I, for I contemne pitty; from thence hee grew to aspire to winne me, and so boldly, and ••aucely at las•• carryed himselfe, as if my deerest knew it, (though he now shunns me) he much more would scorne him, that durst attempt to winne her, whom he had once loued, and yet holds as his owne, though in despised sort: And more to shew his villany, he only serues, and seekes, and sues to haue her grace, who hee perceiueth keeps my loue from me, thinking himselfe (base villaine) good enough for me, who now doe weare the wretched liuery of losse, & what is euer shun'd I haue in store, forsaken and forlorne in loue. Yet be it as it is, and they con∣tinue as they doe, I am, and euer will be my selfe.

But what, (said Amphilanthus) is the cause of this extreamity of griefe? Haue I not told you Sir, said she, being forsaken and despised? and why? only for louing. Dull I haue beene called, for constancy is now termed so,

and his assurance of my faith made him leaue mee, a thing hee thinks soone wonne, or rather held at pleasure, confident assurance of firmnesse, growing to cōtempt; & this course doe vnfortunate poore cōstant louers run. What is become, said Amphilanthus of this man? He liues said she I hope to shame himselfe. Where is your loue said h••? Fixed truely in my heart, other where I can giue a small account of: but as I haue heard, liuing with a new loue, be∣witched sure with some charmes, else could he not continue closed alone within her armes, while armes, and all true noblenes is buried in his losse: for lost he is, since hee fell to her power.

Why did those Knights maintaine the passage said hee? To defend poore mee cryd shee, who since now left vngarded on that side, I beseech you will conuey me to my house, which when you see, you will find like∣wise cause of pitty there. Then brought she them vnto her dwelling, which was in a Caue, of great bignesse, and large proportion, a Monument in the mid'st of it, of the most pretious stone of that time wherein shee liued, being the Tombe of her sweete, and last deere loue, her sonne. Deuided the Caue was into pretty roomes, finely furnished, but such as seemed ra∣ther to affect delicate cleanlines, then sumptuous ornament, yet were they rich enough. Her attendants few, but their seruice shewed them sufficient for that place; with a modest, and sad kindnesse shee bad them wellcome thither, and instantly asking pardon that she must leaue them for such a tyme, as she might performe her vow of mourning ouer the Tombe, which hauing finished with numbers of sigh's, groanes, and teares, she returnd to them againe. Amphilanthus, was not yet satisfied with the discourse, where∣fore againe he vrg'd her; Then Sir said she you shall haue all: I was borne to be betray••'d, for before this cunning ill man came, I was vndone in former hops by one, that had beene with my Lord almost from his birth, who with flatterings had seald vp my heart to his vse, neuer hiding any thing, (not my loue it selfe) from his knowledge, he making the greatest shew of obli∣g••tion to me for my confidence, that might bee expressed by so rare a witt: striuing by sub••ill meanes to make me thinke hee vsd all wayes hee might to make me happy; still vrging me, who needed no inticement to thinke how worthy the loue was, how fit the match, and then shewed me the liknesse of it, our loues being so perfectly, and reciprocally embraced: the strong bond of friendship, twixt our fathers, and the continuance of that, betweene him, and my father, as inheriting it from him; lastly of our breeding toge∣ther, which though in our infancies, yet the more naturally bred loue, and increased it, adding to loue, as the smalest sticks doe with momber to the fi••rs of triumph: but what aboue all indeed was the earnestest moouer, (as he treacherously protested) was the true, & euen consent of our dispositions, which seem'd so neere being one, as though by birth made two, yet created so, as to be ioyned in one, for the more direct, and vnpartiall strength of per∣fectnesse; and thus were you made to be one said hee, in all fortunes and be∣ings. Heauen I confesse I held his lou••; Father, Mother, friends, all were strangers to me, in respect of the nearnesse of my affection to him, and next to that did I thinke my best spent time was with those he most affected, in his absence, in that kinde seruing him. Fortunate I thought my selfe and honour'd, when his companions accompanyed me, and so much I loued him,

as being forsaken, I now the more am tortur'd with iust cause of cōplayning. This Creature, (loath I am to name by other title, and yet grieued to giue him his due, and to call him spoyler of my blisse) too diligently atten∣ded me, neuer left me, when any time might be permitted for man to see me in, I embraced his conuersation, but it chang'd to my affliction, and con∣tents destruction seeing oft times my passions, which were too vehement for mee to hide, or my weakenesse couer, hee aduised, yet still inticed mee on. At last a match was offered me, many had beene so before, but all refused, my conscience being such, as neuer to marry any, that I could not loue, es∣pecially knowing it before, yet was this more earnestly pursued then any o∣ther before, the Gentleman himselfe too much, and vnhappily affecting mee. My Parents (looked without loues eyes) or rather saw, (while that child was blind) the goodnes, and greatnesse of his estate, the hopefullnesse of the man, his vertues, and noble conditions, much perswaded mee vnto him, yet could not more mooue me, then it is possible to stirr the most renowned Albion Rocks: and in as much chast whitenesse, remain'd my loue to my Lord, while this Diuell who promis'd his helpe, aymed at a farre fowler end, beeing gaind, (I will not say by bribes) to the friends of a great Heire, whose estate might make one, how vnworthy soeuer before a coue∣tous minde, seeme beautifull. This was his fire, and by this hee wrought, de∣stilling the offence of Villanie, through the Limbeck of his wickednesse, and this was the beginning. My only loue being gon a iourney with the King, loued infinitely by Deterius my father, and hee staying had left his chamber, and seruants to his dispose, and command; a stranger came in, (the plot ordained so by this Villaine) while my Lord was dressing him, hee de∣sired to speake with the Traytor; he went vnto him, cōming in againe with a paper in his hand, & amazednes in his face, which made my deerer selfe de∣mand the cause, he tēderly louing the wretch, because he had instructed him•• frō, & in his tender youth. He counterfetted loathnes to speake, as if vnwel∣come newes would follow his words, the more he was troubled, & silent, the more perplexed was my deere; wherefore he priuately called the messenger to him, of whom he demanded the newes; he answered he knew none, but that with much ioy, and content, Bellamira was betrothed to her long louing friend, though not till then beloued of her, he then loued, and so may you•• the better iudge of his paine.

When he heard I had giuen my selfe to another, yet thus discreetly he•• caryed it, that hee spake not any thing vnto it, though some while after he•• demaunded of his fauour'd seruant, as if but by chance, if he heard any thing of Bellamira, he would not answere but with a sigh, and these words; It is impossible I now find for any woman to be true. Why said my Lord, is Bel∣lamira marryed? No answered hee, but as ill, for shee is betrothed. O women, O loue, how fickle and false are you both? My deere hearing the death of my loue confirmed in this (likely but vntrue) manner, sai•• little, only turned himselfe to a window, where some teares he shed; yet ha∣uing the noblest spirit in the world, would not suffer himselfe too long t•• be gouernd vnder sorrow, turned againe, and so walked into an Orchard•• where they conferred, and at last he gained his consent to his desired end.

I ignorantly liued, not daring to make other expressions then by looks

or humble, and willing seruices offered him, which with as much affection were embraced; yet was I grieued I heard not of him, which still, till then I did by euery one that saw him, he as willing to send, as I to receiue kindnesse. The earnest suiter, and falsely supposed betrothed man, still did pursue, and so hotly, as at last I resolued to stretch the limits of modesty, and to acquaint my Lord withall by letter, and so ambitiously hoped to gaine one from him; but considering many dangers, I fell into the greatest, fearing the deliuery of my letter, I sent it to him, who was the only bar of the deliuering of it, or thē I sent, as at his death I found in a Cabinet, deliuered by his owne hands vn∣to mee with teares, and humble petition for pardon, that so hee might die quietly, which as he lamentably protested, hee could not doe, nor peaceably leaue this world, I forgaue him, and in that Cabinet found three of my let∣ters, which close me in the misery I now suffer; thereby I saw manifestly I was betrayed, loosing the enioying of what the losse brought my vtter ruine: for I assuredly confident in him, sent my letters still to him, trusting him con∣trary to iudgement, neuer receiuing answere of them, but excuses from him selfe, as since I find were framed by him, sometime saying he could not then write, but in short time he would send one of purpose to me. I remained as louers enioying their like quiet. But many weekes hauing passed, I writ a∣gaine, setting downe, how I was solicited by him hee knew of, almost threat∣ned by my parents, yet had they, nor should they gaine more then this, that he like all others should be refused for his sake, if it would please him to ac∣cept of me, and my truest affection, wholly dedicated to him. This vnfortu∣nately I sent, as the others, and so kept, comming the same morning, before hee was by his Villany contracted to the great Heire of the Forrest. Twise I was sending it by a trusty seruant of my mothers, but Desteny preuailed and I destined to mischiefe could not withstand my ills.

Perplex'd I was with my fortune, when I saw, or thought I saw my faith reiected: mad at my patience that forced me to beare such iniuries, cursed the harme, yet loued the harme••maker, till one night my father, and ma∣ny of his friends at supper, the procurer of my miserie came in, who was beloued, and respected by my father for his learning, and for his seruice to his friend, and so was entertained by him, placing him next vnto himselfe, while I with vncertaine lookes, and doubtfull blushings cast mine eyes on him, yet stayed them not long there, lest they might bee vnderstood my heart guiltie of the loue my soule bare to his Lord, causing such a mistrust of discouerie in my owne conscience, as that mo∣destie hindred mee from discouering my harme, which his countenance had else been ready to bewray (as since I vnderstood by some that mar∣ked him, as they sat at meate). My father asked how his most noble Lord did fare.

Well, my Lord (said he) but growne of late too cunning for vs al; for would you thinke it? he hath finely got a wife. This made me boldly to looke vp, for what would not such a deadly wound cause in one, if it were but only to look boldly on their end: life lasting in mee, but to know certainely my death, be∣ing so eager of it, as I my self had demanded it, had not my father soone pre∣uented me, asking who it was. Why, said hee, the fly Youth hath got the mighty Heire of the Forrest. I hearing it, discernd my hast to bee like theirs,

that run to the top of the highest Rock, to throw themselues from thence: & so did I; for those words strake me dead, my spirits falling, and failing me, en∣countred with the depth, and bruise of fortune aduerse to me, I fell from the table in a swound. All ran to me, or about me, none (because none thought I loued) being able or willing to guesse the reason, except the Serpent, whose poyson strake me. I was with care and diligence brought to my selfe againe, which when I had sense to know, I blamd that sense that brought that know∣ledge to me, condemning fortune, who would not permit one of her owne sex, so much fauour as to die, hauing such cause. Then came my speech a∣gaine, which I onely employd to this purpose, to desire some of the seruants to leade me to my chamber, beseeching the company not to stirre, assuring them that there was no danger, for vsually I had had such fits; my father and mother, especially whose loues were most vnto me, and dearest to me, would haue gone with mee, but I preuaild; the moouer of my torment looking on me with as much pitie, as the Master of a good Dog doth on him, when he is hurt by his owne setting on, vpon either Bull or Beare. When I came to my Chamber, I pretended a desire to rest, which made me abler to dwell in any vnrest. Sir, if euer you haue felt loue so perfectly, as to deserue your name, imagine to your selfe what I felt, seeing scorne, disdaine, presented to mine eies, nay (what of all is cruelst) vnkindnes.

Vnkindnes to a perfect louing heart, is indeed said he of all miseries, the cruellest, and most murthering. Haue you (alas Sir said she) felt that griefe? That only said he perplexeth me, I cannot say I was disdain'd, for I was che∣rished, I was not scorned, but receiued, I lou'd, and was beloued, but now I feare she is vnkind. Let not feare without assurance said shee molest you, lest it make you indeed loose by mistrust, what is yet but mistrusted to be lost. I beseech you (said hee) proceede, and let my misfortunes remaine in me, by none else thought on. Yet (said shee) being forsaken, is a greater miserie, for such a losse, is losse of all hope, or ioy in life; the other may bee helped a∣gaine with kindnesse, and this I finde; for had I not enioyed a heauenly hap∣pinesse, I neuer had complained.

But to goe on, being come to my chamber, and hauing liberty by priuat∣nesse to exercise my sorrow in the absence of all but it selfe, I thus began to mourne. O loue, cride I, was it not enough that thou didst win mee to thy power, and that thou didst possesse me in those yeares, when first it was possi∣ble for maiden thoughts to entertaine thee, to make mee chuse, guiding mine eyes to the choice of one, where perfections linked themselues to chaine my powers, and enuy from all such, that thinking I loued thee, mali∣ced my happinesse, as if I had enioyed? Yet cruell you cannot thinke all that I suffered by passion, hatred of others, enuy, paine, torment, and all miserie sufficient, but you must turne crosse, and find a greater to afflict me. Why did you grant me Paradise of hope, to throw me downe to bottoms of despaire? Why did you glory to inuite my heart, to yeeld vnto the winning power of eyes? eyes which were able to gaine more•• then hearts thrice doubled could repay with loue?

Fie intising eyes, why wan you mee? onely of set purpose to kill me with your frownes? this was pretended murder, your sparkling conquest seemd to gaine, by vnresistable darts, soules to your will; and their smiles promi∣sed

vnresistable darts, soules to your will; and their smiles promised to saue when won, but triall proues, you win alone to spoile. Was it a victory sufficient to get, and worthlesse of keeping? It seemes so, since you leaue me: leaue me, smarting affliction, scourge to loyall hearts, yet leaue you hold me, being left by him, who onely holds my loue.

Thus passed I part of the night, the rest in an exercise mine vndoer taught mee, putting my tho••ghts in some kind of measure, which else were mea∣surelesse; this was Poetry, a thing hee was most excellent in. That night, and many more were ended in that manner, till at last, taking a resolution, which was made by necessity, I came abroad againe, meeting at my fathers chamber one day with my still de••re, though forsaken. He wished me much ioy; I told him hee might best wi••h it, hauing caused so much sorrow to me: hee told mee, my chosen loue (hee hoped) would bring content vnto mee. Then had you been more kind, and true, said I. Treborius is the man must hold your affection, said he. The Forrest Heire (cryd I) hath made you change, and mee forsaken, liuing thus vnhappily, made free. Free, said hee, and betrothed? Pardon mee my Lord, said I, I neither am, nor will bee till I wed.

Will you begin, said hee, to vse that vice you euer till now contemned, dissembling a thing protested against by your vertue? It is that thing I most abhorre, answered I: but if I would vse it, my faith should hinder it from you. Heauen then beare witnesse of my wrong, cryd hee: and pitie mine, said I. With this the company came about vs, so as for that time wee said no more; then did hee seeke meanes how to regaine my affection, which he fea∣red was lost to him, while alas my labour was how to couer that, which so truly was his, as I doubted my selfe for being a safe keeper of it from him, de∣termining all chastitie in loue, not so much as entertaining his outwa••d com∣plements, farther then ciuilitie commanded.

Treborius followed his sute, my father vrged mee, and I, cast away by for∣tune, threw my fortunes at his feete, to bestow them, truly then not worth the accepting: yet loue in the man, made him seeke me, and with as much ioy receiue me. The time was appointed, all our friends and kindred inuited, and as a principall guest my lost loue was intreated to come: who obayed, but his sad demeanor shewed, it was no pleasure to him, to see me giuen to ano∣ther: if hee were troubled, how was I afflicted? In the morning before I was quite dressed (according to the manner of our Countries libertie) the chiefe strangers came into my chamber, permitted by custom to see the Bride dres∣sed; among the rest, or before the rest, he came in, yet said nothing, onely lookes spake for him. I was to the soule perplexed, and being ready to enter into my miserable estate, I went into a great window, which had a curtaine ouer it. A Lady whom I most respected (and so did all those, whose happines was to know her worth, being for all noble vertues, and excellent parts to be admird) would not be denied to go with me. Befo••e her I performd a vowed sacrifice, which was of a lock of haire that I had worne constantly many yeares; this haire was his, though not giuen to me by himselfe, but by an an∣cient seruant of his, vnknown to his Lord. The vow was, that if euer I should be so vnfortunate, as to marry any but himselfe, that morning before my marriage to burne it to my losse and loue.

This next my heart I euer carried, and with the losse of that, finished my vow that fatall day before the perfectest of women, not without teares, as since that noble Lady hath told me, when with her fauour shee would giue libertie to her selfe, to speake with me vnworthy of her iudgement, making mee often call my selfe to mind, yet I thinke rather to bee resolued, of what shee could but coniecture, then to renew my torment with memorie of my distresse. But this finished, the marriage followed: what torture was it to mee, standing betweene my loue, and Treborius, when I was to giue my selfe from my loue to him? How willingly would I haue turned to the other hand: but contrary to my soule I gaue my selfe to him, my heart to my first loue. Thus more then equally did I deuide my selfe: within a short time af∣ter I went with my husband to his house, wishing neuer more to see any light or company, which in some sort I enioyd for one whole yeare: but then the King going to see his Country in Progresse, my husbands house was found fit in his way, so as he lay there, and was by him freely, and brauely entertai∣ned, he being as bountifull in his house, as any man: but this brought fur∣ther trouble, for such a liking the King had to the place, as often in the yeare he visited it; much his Maiestie was pleased to grace mee, I thinke for my friends respect, but howsoeuer, mine eyes ascended no higher then a subiects loue. Many times by the Kings command, I was after at the Court, once I remember, being at the entertainement of the King of Slauonia, brother to his Maiestie, there was tilting, course of field, and many such braue exercises; but so farre short all the Gallants (and the King himselfe being one) came of my loues perfectnesse, as they seemd but foyles placed, to set forth the lusture of his excellence. The sports brake vp, and the King, Queene, and Court ac∣companied the Slauonian King to the Sea, who was from thence to take a fur∣ther voyage; with my husband I returned, my heart so filled with loue, as nothing but it selfe could find biding, or entrance there.

Treborius out of loue to me, loued my friends, and those he saw I most re∣spected, which made me so willing to requite his affection, as I studied how to content him, euer sauing my first loue perfect to the owner; and truly such I found his kindnes, as I haue been sorry I had no loue left for him, yet could I not in the kindest humour spare him any from the other. By the way as we returnd, how would the good man praise his person, his fashion, speech, horse-manship, conuersation, pleasing mirth, concluding still, he was the only exact piece of man-kind, and framed alone without equall, and as if hee were made to honour all vertues, and they framed to serue him. I tooke such ioy in these, as still I bore him vp in them, seeing in his words the picture of my heart and thoughts liuely drawne; he maintained them to content me, while I best satisfied seemed to commend his witty descriptions, as if they, and not the subiect pleased me. Thus did I dissemble, and thus onely for my loue, and with him that loued me, yet this may be pardoned (if pardon may bee giuen for such a fault) since loue did warrant mee, and I obayd my Lord. Other times (though for it I blamd my selfe, because I wrongd his kindnes) I would commend his ordinary talke, when hee praised rude sports, or told the plaine Iests of his Hunts-men, yet the best their vocation could afford, laugh and bee merry with them, but why? because oft-times they brought discourse of my best loue, who delighted in those sports.

Thus I continued, firmly, and chastly louing, but then pleasure enuying my good, call'd misfortune into company, for my husband dyed, and not long after, my only sonne slaine in this vnfortunate Groue, following those sports his father loued. This was not all my losse, for afterwards succeded my last, and greatest; for he, whom I so much esteemed prooued false; all the paines I suffered left vnrewarded, not thought on. What hazards I had runne for his loue, what dangers pass'd? and neuer shun'd, to satisfie his mind, his owne soule shall demonstrate, my tongue neuer relate; but this he must giue me leaue to say, that neuer man was more vniust, nor causlesly vn∣kind; Into this Caue I then confined my selfe, and hence I haue not stirred, further then you finde me, nor will, heere purposing to end, and with my deerest son be laid, who only was to me constāt in affection; & to him, daily doe I perform those rights belōging to the dead, after the māner of our coun∣try; In these parts you can finde no more then now you see, my miserable spectacle, and this Caue, but at the end of the plaine you shall finde an other Bridge kept by two strong Knights, as any this Kingdome yeelds, yet I think, to you, will be but like the others, if they try them selues, which I desire they should not doe, but that you will for my sake passe them. So I may doe that with honor answered the King, I shall willingly doe this, or any other ser∣uice you shall please to command: but in requitall, I must beg one fauour of you, which must not be denyed. She protested she would obay him in a∣nything.

Then said he, leaue this sad abiding for a while, and your dead loue, to goe to a liuing friend; nor will I vrge you to goe from sadnesse quite, hauing such cause of sorrow, but to a sad abyding, yet a ioyfull meeting. Your fa∣ther Detereus is not, (as you imagined) lost in his Ambassage, though lost to all content, but liues an Hermits life on a Rock, before Saint Maura; much he desires to know of your safety, and inioyned me to enquire of you, if euer I hapned to this Country. I promised him I would, not being able to perswade him from that place: goe you then to him, and carry comfort with you to his age; if you cannot bring him thence, you may abide with him, and thus not leaue sorrowing, hauing still so sad a subiect before you, as to behold so worthy a mans low state, but if true iudgment rule in either, to ouer rule passion, I hope to see you both, againe your selues. She was strook with amazement to heare this newes; but so perfectly hee discoursed of her fathers affaires, and so truly described him, as shee knew hee spake but truth•• whereupon shee resolued to goe thither, and vpon that, sent for her Knights that kept the other Bridge, to attend her, while Am∣philanthus againe desired to heare more of the sad story; then Sir said shee, heare the last.

When I was a Widdow, and suffered so many crosses, my poore beauty decayed, so did his loue? which though he oft protested to bee fixed on my worth, & loue to him, yet my face's alteration gaue his eyes distaste, or liber∣ty from former bands, to looke else where, and so he looked, as tooke his heart at last from me, making that a poore seruant to his false eyes, to fol∣low still their change. I grieued for it, yet neuer lessned my affection blaming such cruelty, and cruelty for lodging in him, not himselfe for being cruell; so as my loue grew still, and in a strange manner, to affect where losse was,

where vnkindnesse, vngratefulnesse, scorne, and forsaking dwelt, (odd mo∣tiues to loue) yet lou'd I the keeper of these wrongs, lamented the sense of them, pined in my misery; and yet Sir, truly can I not hate this man, but loue him stil so wel, as if he could look backe on me with loue, all former ills should be forgotten, but that cannot be, such an vnfortunate strangnes hath beene betwixt vs, as wee neuer meete•• or if we did, what can this wrinckled face, and decayed beauty hope for? yet were I blessed, if hee did but thus much, speake kindly to mee, pittie me, and vse mee courteously, who haue suffered enough to merit this respect: but I thinke selfe accusing falshood makes him shunne me. Alas doe not so, for I forgiue all, and affect thee still, and dye will i•• this loue. You did (said Amphilanthus in your discourse) touch vpon a quality rare in women, and yet I haue seene some excellent things of their writings, let me be so much bound to you, as to heare some of your Verses. Truely Sir said she, so long it is since I made any, and the subiect growne so strange, as I can hardly cal them to memory which I made, hauing desired to forget all things but my loue, fearing that the ••ight, or thought of them, would bring on the ioyes then felt, the sorrowes soone succeeding. This is but an excuse said he; Truly Sir said she, it is truth, yet I thinke I can say the last I made, which were vpon this occasion; one time after he had begun to change, hee yet did visite mee, and vse mee somtimes well, and once so kindly, as I grew to hope a little, whereupon I writ these lines lying in an Orchard, vnder a great Quince tree, the weather being as if it did threaten my teares to follow, the drops then following; they were these.

AS these drops fall: so Hope drops now on me sparingly, coole, yet much more then of late, as with Dispaire I changed had a state yet not posses'd, gouerne but modestly.

Deerest, let these dropps heauenly showers proue and but the Sea fit to receiue thy streames, in multitudes compare but with Sun beames, and make sweete mixture, twixt them, and thy loue.

The Seas rich plenty ioynd to our delights, the Sunn's kind warmth, vnto thy pleasing smiles, when wisest hearts thy loue-make-eyes beguiles, and vassell brings to them the greatest Sprites.

Raine on me rather then be drye; I gaine nothing so much as by such harmeles teares, which take away the paines of louing feares, and finely winns an euer lasting raigne.

But if like heate drops you do wast away glad, as disburden'd of a hot desire; let me be rather lost, perish in fire, then by those hopefull signes brought to decay.

Sweete be a louer puer, and permanent, cast off gay cloathes of change, and such false slights: loue is not loue, but where truth hath her rights, else like boughs from the perfect body rent.

And perfect are you sweet Bellamira, said the King in this Art, pittie it is, that you should hide, or darken so rare a gift. His commendations brought the fruite of gayning more, and so they pass'd some two dayes, till shee was ready to take her iourney; the Kings then parting from her, and following their search, being discouerd to the Lady by an vnlook'd for meanes; for Amphilanthus at his first comming into the Caue, being confident of not being knowne, pulld off his Helme, while Bellamira was gone to the mo∣nument, at her returne seeing his face, she fell on her knees, blushing at her errour: My Lord said she, the afflictions which make me ignorant of all ••hings but themselues, haue caused my forgetfullnes vnto you, which I most humbly craue pardon for. He admired how she knew him, desiring to bee made certaine of the cause, and meanes of her knowledge, (being extreamely sorry to be discouered.) Be not displeased great Prince said she, that your seruant (my poore selfe) knowes your excellency, since heere you shall com∣mand, what it shall please you, and be knowne but as you name your selfe; only giue me leaue to expresse what ioy my afflicted heart did little expect in beholding in this my sad dwelling, the most matchlesse Prince the earth carryes, and may glory in bearing. But Madame said hee, how doe you I beseech you know me? My Lord said she, I attended on the Kings Neece, in •• iourney she was pleased to make, out of too much pride, and conceit of her beauty, being enough to be liked, but too little to be defended in field. Into Italy (among other places) shee went, and then it was my happines to see you, and the honor of chiualry in you, which the poore Prince my Ladies seruant found; for after you had cast him to the ground, she cast him out of her fauor, scorning any after but your selfe, yet not louing you, because you wonne the prize from her beauty to your Mistris. The King did very well remember that accident, and so discoursing a little more to that purpose they concluded, with her promise not to disclose him, or to know him to be other then the Lost Man, and that was the reason she so freely disclosed her passions to him. Sh•• tooke her way towards Saint Maura, the two Kings higher into the Country, though no way likely to finde the Ladyes, yet first for them who could lay those memories apart, trauelling through the deli∣cate parts of Greece, till they came to Romania, passing many aduentnres vn∣der the name of the Lost Man, one being necessary to be remembred.

On the skirts of Romania they came into a place, Rockey, and hilley no∣thing but Heath, and some small shrubs to shelter rayne, Sunne, or any thing from one; the mighty Rocks which shewed their swelling sides, appeard like Swannes in their neasts, when breeding, and angry at passengers for

troubling them: white as they, and fringed with Holly trees, the wayes sto∣ny, and troublesome, so as they walked on foote, and their Squires led their Horses. Defirous to see rarities, Olorandus went among them, Amphilanthus keeping on in a path. The braue Bohemian seeking among them, at the last hapned to one, which was wonderfull to behold, a Rocke of great height, and bignesse; the midst of which, was cleft to the bottome, so euen, and iust, as if cut by hands, yet was it impossible for hands to doe it. Nature shew∣ing how neere she can come to Art, and how far excell it. Beyond this was an other Rocke, in which was a little Caue, and in that a man lying, it was so shallow in the body of it, as he might discerne him to lye on his left side, his face from the light, in Pilgrims cloathes, his staffe and bag by him, and to add to this sad sight, his voyce agreed to make him knowne mi∣serable•• breaking into these complaints. Vngratefull wretch, monster of man••kinde, why liue I still to poyson the sweete Aire with my vild breath∣ing? what wickednesse is there, that I abound not in, and haue committed? false, trecherous, and vngratefull I haue beene; dye then with shame, wrap'd round about thee: dye Dolorindus, and neuer let thy vnworthy face be more beheld, nor thy false eyes behold the light; let darkenesse, (not so blacke as thy sinne) infold thee, and be as thou art, a creature vnfit for Hea∣uen to looke vpon; Olorandus knew he had beene lost strangly, the manner, and cause was vnknowne, the other Kings keeping his councell til they could finde meanes to worke for his good; He stole away softly, and calld Amphi∣lanthus, who presently came with him, where they heard him continue in his moanes, crying out, O Villaine that had a thought to wrong thy wor∣thyest friend, to be vngratefull to al-deseruing Amphilanthus, nay more, to plot his ruine, and conspire his death. Antissia, thou art the cause of this, and I the more miserable to be brought by a woman to be a Beast. Amphilanthus pardon me, my soule begs it, & let the fault be where it is laid iustly, on vn∣iust commands in loue. But what excuse can I make? say Antissia bad mee kill Amphilanthus, is that enough? O noe, truth tels me that he saued mee from ruine, from staruing, from death; shall a woman then make me forget these benefits, and only because I loued her? loue should not extend to hurt, or procure murther. I haue offended beyond pardon, mercy must be shewed if I continue, but mercy cannot I aske, so far hauing forgone truth, as my offence flyes higher then any hope can asc••nd to. Antissia, I now hate thee more, then once I loued thee, and more iustly, for thy loue hath made me worth-lesse, and spoyled my name, honor, and content; shame is the re∣ward I haue gain'd for my loue to thee, and the heauy waight of vngrateful∣nesse lyes on my heart. They were both amazed to heare these words, not being able to coniecture whence they came; the voyce they knew, and the name, but how this sorrow was, could not imagine. In the end they con∣cluded to speake to him, and Olorandus began: Repentance said hee merits pardon for the greatest ill; if you truely repent, doubt not but you shall re∣ceiue what you seeke, and the neerest way to that, is to confesse freely your fault, and then pardon will follow. Pardon cry'd he, I cannot be pardon'd, I cannot hope, I cannot be forgiuen. You may said he; And for that, I will ingage my honor, if you will be ruld said Amphilanthus. With that hee rose, and looking on them, knew them, which so much oppressed his weake

body, as he fel to the ground in a swound. Amphilanthus took him vp, and Ol∣lorandus went to the next Spring for water, wherwith they rubd his temples, and brought him to himself; but to what end? only to die again, for so was he afflicted, as impossible it was for him to liue, as they doubted: then Amphi∣lanthus vowed vnto him (at his second comming to himselfe) that whatsoe∣uer he had done, or thought against him, was then forgiuen, desiring onely to be resolued of the griefes cause. My Lord (said he) how shall I dare to tell you what I haue done, when no shame is so great, so infinite, so ill, as my fault•••• I am a Traitor to you, take reuenge, or let me giue it you. Stay Dolorindus (said he), fall not from one ill to a greater, speake to me, plainely tell me what per∣plexeth you, and had you sought my life, I doe forgiue you. You haue (braue King, cry'd hee) said, what I grieued to name, it was your life I aimed at, com∣manded by Antissia to kill you, and then to take her for my wife: loue made me vndertake this hateful practise, now you haue it, vse me as I merit, and ne∣uer pardon so foule an act. Loue Antissius, and hate me, for he was likewise so∣licited by her to murder you: but he refused, and would needs hinder mee, whereupon we should haue fought, but then were stayd by two, who told vs they were Amphilanthus, and Ollorandus. Antissius more in sense then I, knew they had taken your names vpon them, and were not your selues; he vnder∣tooke the named Ollorandus, I the other, whose name had that power, as he ouer came me, laying me as low, as my sinne hath puld me. Wounded I was taken vp, but saw his death giuen him by a young Gentleman, whose father he had killed in a quarrell concerning the Princesse of Croatia, whom he had vnder your name abused. With the sight of his death, shame straight posses∣sed me, and selfe-accusing infolded mee: for then your noblenes came into my mind, your clearenesse shewing my foulenes, your worth my blame; my heart I cannot say brake, but cloue in sunder: neuer liued any man to say, he was afflicted, that more truly left affliction. Soules that condemned are, can∣not be more tortured, my soule feeling what can be felt of miserable torture. Antissius, with whom I would but a little before haue fought withall, I threw my selfe at his feete, I petitioned Perissus neuer to think of me, nor name any name might sound like mine, that you especially might not know my fals∣hood, left your condemning mee might prooue worse, and a heauier punish∣ment, then all other torments: for your blaming me, and so iustly would bee more terrible, then condemnation from any other. As he spake those words he sunke againe, and they againe rerouered him; but then Amphilanthus chid him, that he would not belieue him. Why, said he, can Dolorindus think that any wrong can be done Amphilanthus, which he cannot forgiue; and by Dolo∣rindus whom he loues, and for loues sake: be patient deare friend, and grieue not thus, for that is not to be grieued at. Loue commanded you, when you were his subiect, twere treason to haue disobeied, or refused to kill a traitor to his Crowne (as I was esteemed). Comfort your selfe I am free from anger, or spleene; I will not say I forgiue, I say you erred not, nor I remember ought, but our first meeting, and our friendship, let all other (like Phansies) passe, I am thy friend, and will cherish thee, and loue thee as I did; yet must I•• blame Antissias forgetfulnesse, and causelesfury. When did I offend her so much, to be so irreconciliably displeased? how did I vex her, to bee vnsatisfied with ought, but my life? or what could my death bring her?

Dolorindus as much ouer-waighed with ioy, and kindnes, as before pressed with sorrow, could with as little power withstand the fury of the kind passi∣on, so as with teares, and deare loue, he fell at Amphilanthus his feete, kissing them with such affection, as hee was forced to throw himselfe by him, to make him leaue, and in his armes hold him as fast, as his loue tied him to him. O Amphilanthus, cri'd he, why doe you thus exceede all possibilitie for man, how noble soeuer, to be a shadow to you, much lesse to equall you? will you gather together all perfections in you to be admired, and enuied by men? or indeed be as you are, fit, and only deseruing to bee eternized for magnani∣mious, and glorious spirit. Your kindnes exceeds my act, said he, and such expressions of loue find I in you, as I am glad rather of this accident, where∣by I enioy them, then of the want of this cause, should I haue missed the truth and knowledge of your loue. Neuer was more kindnesse shewed in offering and accepting, in confessing and forgiuing, then betweene these two. Olloran∣dus (when they had for a while continued their discourse, and all former bu∣sinesses razed like Castles belonging to Traitors) desired to know who they were that had taken their names vpon them. Truly, said Dolorindus, I know not, for one kild, the other dying, desired that he might be so much fauord, as neuer to be spoken of, nor his companion, being something neare mee in shame: but as his fault was lesse, the lesse sensible. Speake no more of this, said Amphilanthus. I haue done, said Dolorindus, for little ioy can it bee to mee, if not by that to see your gratious fauour. But so he died, saying onely they were Gentlemen, and had taken those names for their honour, and his com∣panions gaining the Princesse of Croatia, whom after he vildly left, and for∣sooke. Then did Amphilanthus relate his finding that Princesse, her discourse to him and his conference with her women; which much pleased Ollorandus, especially when he heard what gaine they had by those names, being glad to heare such reuerence was done to them. Amphilanthus was contrary, for though hee loued best to doe well, yet he cared not how little he was told of it, hating flattery, as much as hee loued worth, and that was best of any man; nay so nice he was, as he would rather doubt flattery, then let him∣selfe thinke he heard but truth of himselfe. He left not till he had made Dolo∣rindus leaue his habits of a long Gowne and Staffe, to change them (as come home againe) to a sword and armour, his trauaile on foote to horse-backe, and contrary to his expectation, or resolution to be once more a warrior. But this he gaind, to be licensed to trauell vnknowne with them, which they also were resolued to doe, and so from this rude Rockey place, as from despaire to comfort, they took towards Constantinople. Into the Towne they went pri∣uately, and furnished themselues according to their humors: Amphilanthus in Tawny, embroidred with Black and Siluer; Ollorandus in Grasse-greene, and Gold; Dolorindus in Haire colour, or a kind of dead leafe colour, and Gold, they hapned there iust at a time, which was solemnly kept euery yere, which was the day of the Coronation of Antissius, and the restoring of their Countries liberty. Here they saw their honors blazd, and remembred fame to flourish: among the strange Knights they put themselues, and as Macedo∣nians, whereof there were some good number; they came to the Iusts, hauing made their habits after their fashion.

The Presidents was present with al the Nobility; and the other braue men that returnd from Albania, the King himself hauing sent thē home, when he

tooke his iourney in the search: what Amphilanthus, and the other two did in these exercises, may be imagined, by the knowing they were Actors, else his acts as impossible to be expressed, as the starres numbred. Much inquirie was made after him and his companions, but vnknowne they passed, and took their way from the Court, after they had seene the fashion of it, and well vn∣derstood, where, and how Antissia liued in greatest distresse, for the report of the false Amphilanthus his death came to her eares, which attribute shee imagined to be giuen him for his falshood to her, whereupon shee put on mourning, and all her seruants were clad in that Liuery, leauing the Court, and be taking her selfe to a Castle, not farre from the sea, where she beheld no∣thing but Rocks, hills of Sand, as bare as her content: Waues raging like her sorrow, and indeed little but companion-like Spectacles, shee thinking her selfe those solitarie places, and looking on Antissia, as she in her sadnes looked on them; and thus had she continued from the time of the newes comming.

Amphilanthus, and Ollorandus with Dolorindus passed farther into the coun∣t••ie, and tooke their way by Amphilanthus direction towards Neapolis, where they were to visit the faire Musalina, who by meanes made by Allimarlus was reconciled to Amphilanthus, betweene whom an ancient quarrell cea∣sed thus. With all delicasie they were entertained, and feasted, shee being so excellent a Lady for spirit, wit, rare discourse, and the most vnusuall vertues for women, as she merited affection from any man, and some yeares before had inioyed his, and such an one indeed she was, as Pamphilia could not but confesse, fit to be beloued, and therfore neuer blamed her, but Amphilanthus for leauing her, not for againe louing Musalina. Hither it was appointed, that Antissia and Lucenia should come, and giue him satisfaction by repen∣tance and submission; Musalinas husband being Duke of Tenedos, and where Amphilanthus had spent much time, louing her; but after leauing her, destiny so commanding, and his obeying to those powers sometimes against him∣selfe. They came, and he as soone forgaue, as they heartily asked pardon, yet did he but conditionally forgiue Antissia, being for that to marry Dolorindus, who with her sight forgot his hate conceiued before, and with much loue embraced the match, Musalina must not be questioned. The marriage was performed at Constantinople. Amphilanthus comming thither then as him∣selfe, her old Vncle gaue her to Dolorindus with good content, who soone after tooke their iourney to Negropont, she discreetly louing him, but he do∣ting of her.

Amphilanthus was like the King, receiued and followed by all men, ac∣knowledging their peace, gaine, and liberty to come from him. Then backe againe to Neapolis he, and Ollorandus went to conduct Musalina, one of his first Loues in his youthfull trauailes, where some time they spent in all sweet and studied for delights, the search being quite forgot, or left to them, whose memories were better of the enchanted Ladies, Pamphilia being left to the times deciding of her deseruing, Ollorandus like his friend liued and loued. Rosindy and his companion making what haste they could, arriued at Thesalo∣nica, where his dearest Meriana was, who with as much loue, as hee had affection, met him: but when he told her of the misfortune, and losse of his Sisters and Cosin, shee grew sorrie for it, and had been sad, if hee had not been there, resoluing to goe with him to Corinth, where the Kings

and Queenes had determined to stay, till they got tydings of their children; but it being impossible for Knights and Ladies to trauell without aduen∣tures, this befell them.

A Lady of beautie sufficient, but of behauiour insolent, they encountred in a Chariot of blew Veluet, embroidred with Gold: sixe browne-bay hor∣ses drew this Chariot, couered with clothes, and trappings suteable, set forth with feathers for the greater state, and for brauery one each side went eight Foote-men in those colours. She rid alone, as being beyond companions, hauing two Chariots more following with her Women, a troope of knights and Gentlemen attending, answerable in all points to this beginning of pompe, and meetenesse agreeable to waite on such a Mistris. Bare face shee rid, threatning all beholders, and as if contemning the Sunne, or being so well assured of his respect to her, as she carelesly slighted his heate, as either not being able, or not daring to harme her. Disdainefully she cast her eyes vpon the other more excellent company; her horses not so much for fast going, as with pride stamping, and trampling, raised the dust in passing by, so as Meria∣na and Rosindy drew the curtaine, this proud woman seeing it; What (said she) is the nicenes of that poore troope, such as our dust may not come neere them? draw backe the curtaine againe, calling to one of her foot-men, and let them see their error, with the honour to behold me. Meriana started at the suddennesse, Rosindy was angry at that rudenesse, that troubled his Loue, but seeing it was a footeman, bad one of his men knock him, which hee did, whereupon the Troopes began to bussell, the Knights belonging to the o∣ther Company, being so peremptorily commanded by their Lady, as they flew towards Rosindy, and from her, as if her words had stung like Vipers; but Rosindy, quickly getting on his horse, made them know, their haste was but to an ill end, and with as much speed, sent those that escaped, backe againe to their Lady, who seeing their turning, began to reuile them; but they now fearing his blowes, more then her tongue, stood round about her Chariot. She infinitely perpl••xed with it, calld to Rosindy, who comming a little nea∣rer to her, gaue her ill manners the hearing of these words.

Pride and neglect being the beginners of this action, me thinks submissiue satisfaction should ensue from you that caused it, to mee, before whom you presumed to attempt it; wherefore let mee see that, and I shall fa∣uour you to farre, as to leaue you, and account you a valiant and ciuill man.

Madam (said hee), had that fault been mine, which proceeded from the rashnesse of your seruant, set on to (I belieue) by your commands, I might haue seene more reason to yeeld to your demand, then now I find; howsoeuer hauing the Victory, I am to giue no satisfaction, but haue it in my power to receiue it, or force it from you; yet I am content, so you acknow∣ledge your error to this Queene, that you shall passe, and withal I shal esteeme you a discreet Lady.

Acknowledge my errour, as if I can erre, said she? Alas poore man, how hath a little gaine made thee ouer-ualue thy selfe, and dis-esteeme her, whom thou art not worthy to looke on, if not, as the Ethiopians doe the Moone whom they worship. And such an vncertaine thing is Pride said Rosindy, which it appeares gouerns so much in you, as will make

with many Changes, the Waines of your fortunes equall with your increa∣sings, but take heed the conclusion happen not in that quarter. Shee was in∣finitely offended with him, so as turning her face from him, and swelling with anger, shee bid her Chariot-man driue on, which Rosindy forbad, and whether she would or no, brought her out of her seate, and to the ground, Meriana beholding her at such alike distance, as her former pride looked on her withall; then did shee say (but terribly against her heart) shee was sorry shee had giuen them that distaste; other Phrase shee would not vse. Then did shee take her Chariot againe, but discharged all her Knights as vnwor∣thy to attend her, and with her Women, and Footemen continued her iour∣ney to the next towne, where shee entertained new seruants, one of her old ones trauelling with Rosindy, telling him this story.

This Lady you saw, and once my Mistris is Queene of Bulgaria, but Em∣presse of Pride; shee is married to a Prince, who only out of affection sought her, being a discreet braue Gentleman, and for his vertues chosen King of Bulgaria: shee was daughter to a Duke in that Country, no lesse arrogant then shee, so as it is a successiue ill hanging ouer, and inheriting in that Fa∣mily. She at first loued the Prince shee married very well, or seemed to doe so, and shee still doth vse him kindly, but often haue they quarrels, shee no way yeelding to him, accounting her selfe farre aboue him in birth, though his honour haue gained the precedence; hee is infinitely fond of her, nothing being too deare for her, but lately hee hath been abroad in Hungary, and o∣ther parts that way, going to visit Ollorandus, when he came to the faire Me∣lysinda, in which time she carried her selfe farre better, then in his presence, shewing what shee can doe, rather then what shee would doe; for wee all know shee loues the Prince of Iambolly much better, then the King; and in∣troth for my part, I excuse her, since no greater difference can bee betweene men for outward beautie and sweetnesse, then is twixt them; yet on my con∣science shee is vntouched, and iust to her Husband, it may bee Pride hol∣ding her honest, for much she is laid vnto. At the Kings going away, she got leaue of him to goe into Morea, to visit an excellent Lady there, be∣ing her Cosen-german, and married to the Prince of Elis, there shee hath been, till within a short time, and now is returning with all speed to meete her Lord, and if shee can perswade him to goe with her, to trie the Inchantment of the Rockie Island, where all the beauties of this part of the World (except her selfe) are said to be enchanted. Where is that Iland I pray Sir, said Meriana?

Madam (said hee) in the Gulfe of Venice, not farre from the mouth of the Gulfe of Lepanto. Who are all there, said shee? and how are you cer∣taine of their being there? He nameth them; and the certainty of their be∣ing there (answered hee) was brought by some of their seruants, who after they had seene them inclosed, came stored with griefe to the Sea side againe, where they stayd til a ship came by, and in the Cock-boat took them aboard, landing them at Corinth, where the king of Morea is, and al his Court, attending the end, which he hopes for as soone as his sons and cosins returne from Al∣bania, who he purposeth to intreat, and command to aduenture for their de∣liuery. Doe you know the manner of it, said the Queene? Truly Madam replyd hee, onely, as I haue heard my Mistris speake it, it is a place by

their relation of Marble, built like a Theater, round and curiously wrought, at their comming thither they discerned nothing on the gate, but now there is an inscription which shewes it an inchantment, and the end how to bee gained, which must be by the man most louing, and most beloued, hee shall partly doe it, for hee shall release them from their charmes that holds their senses as it were sleeping, but cannot bring them forth till the fairest crea∣ture in disguise come, and she shall finnish all: many are gone thither, and some put on disguises of purpose, but that will not serue, surely Fate hath no deceit. My Lord said Merian••, surely you may end the one part? I beleeue you thinke so said he, but shall I try it? I cannot consent to that cryd she, for so I may be (God knowes how long) bard from you, no my deere heart we must not so be parted, Charmes shall not try our loues, we are assured, what need we farther venture.

Thus they rid till they came to a plaine where they found one peece of Armour, then an other, so many, at last a sheild which was presently knowne by Polarchos, who tooke it vp and cryd out, alasse said hee heere is Parselius his shield, and armour, what is become of him? Rosindy was in∣stantly call'd vp with that voyce from the lipps of his Meriana, and seeing it, also knew it, then tooke he his horse, and kissing his deere wife gallop'd along the plaine, following the tract of horses and some blod which hee fouund in the way: to a wood he came, by the ••ide thereof were some horse∣men, Polarchos demanded of them if they could giue them any notice of a wounded Knight, or of any combat that lately had beene fought in the place behind them.

They said they were not to yeeld account to any, but if they desi∣red to try them selues, they were Lads would shew them sport. Rosindy re∣plyed that they were strangers there, and ingaged to attend some Ladyes, therefore they were not hasty of fight, only hauing found an armour which they knew, they desired to know what was become of the Master of it. Why he Sir, said one of them is hurt, and his companion likewise, both of them being carryed into a Castle within this wood, where they are likely to remaine a while, for their wounds are great & held dangerous. May we see them said they, at least heare of the aduenture? You may doe both if you please Sir, said one of them, but know and remember I told you so, for there is hazard in it.

I feare nothing said Rosindy to serue my friends; be they of your acquain∣tance and friends said the Knights? yes indeed answered Rosindy; then said hee you shall heare the story first, and after you may the better resolue, so they lighted, and sate vnder a Tree, the stranger Knight (the rest leauing them) beginning thus. I doe neuer vse to tell a story to any, but I first know to whom I discourse, wherefore I pray Sir let me be so much fauored by you, as to haue your name, and you shall haue the relation: Rosindy began to doubt, therefore meant not to trust too much, wherefore he answered, his name was Caudalus a Bulgarian, the other his companion Larchos. Then proceeded the other, this wood is called the Forrest Gulfe, that plaine you pass'd the pleasant way, for there doe all delight to ride, and yet none but are swallowed vp when past that plaine, and arriued heere within this deuouring throat, a Lady dwelling within heere, who maintaines her selfe

and her pleasures, with the ouerthrow and death of such miserable Crea∣tures as passe this way, being ambitious of the destruction of all that call themselues, or are called vertuous, but she is my Mistris, and I am one of her vnfortunate seruants, held in a manner a prisoner, a Guard still on mee, yet I am appointed one to guard her, I was of Morea, and the worse doe I thriue for that, since she hates all of that Country, for hauing beene re∣fused her desires by the braue Prince thereof, on whom shee will now bee fully reuenged, hauing got him in her custody, and no hope is there of gay∣ning him out aliue, for she will hold him close prisoner in such a place as no force can get him thence till shee haue her ends, and at last his death; the Castle is impregnable, and she vnwinable, and thus his misfortune fell; passing along this way, in search as it seemed of his Sisters and Cousen, hee met some of our troops who encounter'd him, hauing demanded first who hee was, then knowing him, and how acceptable a present hee might bee to their Lady, set all vpon him, and finding them selues too weake, blew a Horne, at which came many more to their succour, and so at last with numbers, and his faintnesse loosing bloud he fell, and into their vnmercifull hands, his companion was taken before him, and both caryed into the Castle; with welcome they were receiued, because shee was glad in her malicious heart shee had him, and there hath hee remained now some ten dayes; his Armour they threw about they card not where, taking care only of his person to bring him aliue, which was all they could doe, yet I heare since by a wayting woman of hers, that hee is yet liuing, and some (though little) hope is of him.

Is there no way said the King to come at him, or to purchase his de∣liuery? mee thinkes you being of his Country, and his fathers Subiect, should study how to doe him seruice. Truly Sir said hee I loue him as my Prince, and admire him as his worth meriteth, and could I but tell how to gaine his liberty, were it with the losse of mine owne life, I would venture it.

Haue you no power answered Rosindy, with that wayting woman you before named? she might assist you. It is true said hee, shee may, and will, I assure my selfe, but Sir said he, I am but one, and this Castle is full of strong men, and so dangerous it is to acquaint any with such an enterprize, as death were all wee could expect, and shamefull death, in such a sort as would be inflicted without gaine, but assured harme to him, if it were discouerd, it were plotted for his release; besides, so weake the two Princes are, as they cannot performe any thing in their owne defence, and if wee stay till they be strong, it may bee (for my Lady is extreame suddaine) they may be dead before our helpe come. For their assistance said Rosindy were they but able to trauell I would aske no more, nor I Sir said the other, were you two Amphilanthus and Steriamus. I am neither of them said hee, but if I may without boasting say I haue tryd my selfe in their companies, and haue come away without any shamefull affront; and for my companion he is lit∣tle inferiour to any liuing. The Knight began to mistrust something, yet be∣ing indeede honest, and meaning what he said, desired to see his face, Hee not once fearing any thing from him, who so freely had discoursed to him, lifted vp his Beuer, but instantly let it fall againe, whereat the Knights heart

euen leaping with ioy, Ah my Lord said he, now shall we release the Prince, but you must venture a great hazard for it, you must goe to the Castle, offer your seruice to my Lady, court her, refuse her nothing, which fondnes will worke infinitely on her, and so much as you may by that meanes win the sight of them, and let me alone then for the rest. I cannot doe this an∣swered hee, being a harder matter for me then winning the Castle, for I can∣not be vniust to my owne deerer selfe, but deerest friend you may, you are not ingaged but to hate all women, what neede you care then what you doe to hinder their sexe. Must I make loue to her said Polarchos? Yes Sir said the other. But if when this is done and I haue playd my part, we should faile, I should hate my selfe, and vexe incessantly at my fortune. Neuer doubt it Sir replyd the other, but be sure you make enough of her, and then preuaile, for although she be crafty and deuilish, yet so much she loues her pleasure, as she will rather be made a foole in enioying them, then misse of them, and so passionate she will be, as you may haue any thing of her, and but satisfie her minde. Polarchos vndertoke the busines, and Rosindy went but as his friend; this agreed vpon, they went to the Castle, the Knight be∣ing Nephew to the great Marshall of Morea, held there as a prisoner to serue her, conducting them, telling the rest that this was one of purpose come to serue their Lady hearing of her rare beauty, and vertues.

Being arriued at the Castle, they went vp into the Hall, euery place see∣ming strōger then other, & so the harder to win. In a withdrawing roome a∣boue stayres this Venus sate, dressed as an inuiter to those pleasures vseth to bee, her necke all bare as low as her brests could giue her leaue for too much immodestie to shew, her sleeues loose, and as she stir'd her armes they would rise vp and discouer their nakednesse, and surely white, otherwise she shew∣ed too much for an ill skinne, although neuer so much delicasie, wanting chastity will make men distract, for how ill soeuer men be in their discourse, or liuing, yet they loue modesty best, and most prize it in their breasts, though their tongues say other. She had her haire curled, and dress'd vp with Iewels, and Rings, and many pritty deuises, as wantonly, and phan∣tastically placed as her eyes, which laboured in twinckling to moistnesse, giuing occasion for beliefe, that that humor was most ruling in her. Vn∣steady she was in her fashion, her head set vpon so slight a necke, as it turnd like a weather-cocke to any vaine conceit that blew her braines about: or like a staulke of Oates, the eare being waighty: her feete neuer but moouing, as not willing to stand, or sit still; her gate wagling and wanton, businesse she had perpetually in her selfe, and with her selfe, the looking-glasse being most beholding to her for stay; this woman (thought Polarchos) is fit to bee the subiect for this enterprize, hee saluted her, and most affectionately looked vpon her, shee straight imagined shee saw loue in him, and felt as much in her selfe for she neuer wanted that, amorously she entertained his his salutation, her seruant whispering to her that hee was a fit seruant to bee employed by her, shee knew he knew her, and therefore gaue credit to him, after she cast her eyes vpon Rosindy demanding who he was. They replyde his name was Cautu••us, & that he was of Bulgaria cōming only in company with Larchos; if euer loue did soueranize at first sight, heere it was, for so pas∣sionat was she of the new guest as she euen almost hung vpō him to beg pity

He refused no fauour shee asked, but so temperately carried himselfe as she sought and he granted; when he had done sufficient to make her sure, and finding himselfe so deare to her, hee tooke occasion to demand many things of that Countrey, and of her Castle. She to indeare her selfe to him told him of her power, and at last, all her secrets concerning the Prisoners; he counterfeited an admiration of her w••tt, and seem'd so highly to esteeme of it, as if it rather were a miracle to be told then found in a woman, shee to make him assured of it, carried him into the Caues, and Prisons, where she shewed him many so miserable, as they appear'd their owne Ghosts, their bodies quite consum'd. In a Caue a little lightsommer, but no more plea∣sant was the worthy Parselius, and his friend Leandrus, both chain'd togea∣ther in chaines, and in each others armes, complaining and weeping their sorrowes to those walles, and di••mall roomes. O Parselius said hee, how wretched art thou thus to be held, not onely in fetters, but from thy swee∣test loue, what will become of her, when she shall heare that I am lost? What will my friends say of me? how will all accuse me? yet, how can I right my selfe or they succour me? Braue Rosindy would thou didst but know my e∣state, I know thou wouldst free me, or if not, thou wouldst yet certainly com∣fort my wife, thou art to succeede me, likewise be mine heire in louing Dali∣nea, & cheerishing her dearest soule, my afflictiō is nothing to me, must not she suffer too? I could beare all & more if thou wert not likewise to endure; paine vnsufferable, to know that Dalinea must be afflicted, death were nothing, nor these dying paines, if I could be sure she, dearest she, could but be patient, whē I consider her affection to me, the torments and violent passions she breath'd in my first absence, doe not they make me see her death? Oh my sweet soule, I would rather forgiue thee for forgetting me, then for dying for me: yet the latter were the worthier, and none indeed is worthy of thee, for none but I can so firmely loue thee, must this body so louingly embraced, and kindly held within her purest armes, be bound in yrons like a thiefe? must I cheri∣shed and daily tended by her, lye here naked on the bare stones, and die like a va••lell? these armes that haue conquer'd, be sham'd like a murtherer? these eyes that haue seene all the world's beauty; nay, Dalinea, & haue bin kiss'd by her, must these eyes now gaze on dead walls, & expect sight but to see death instead of all my former happinesse? O Leandrus, had I died, and by it kept thee free, my soule would haue reioyced, and Dalinea bin better contented; but to die here, and thee with me, shee can neuer absolue me. Deare brother said Leandrus comfort your selfe, and if it be but to be the abler to die braue∣ly, what neede we lament, our fortunes doth that for vs? be patient, and death, if not dislik'd will seeme enough pleasing; make it to vs desired, it will then be welcome, and beleeue it, the more we pitie our selues, the more we shall hate that which we shall goe to, and therefore the more to be sought; thinke but how fine a thing it is to be free from all vexation when wee shall neither trauell, nor feare misaduentures, neither be taken by misfortune, nor shaken with the harmes of others, when neither loue nor hate afflicteth vs, where all things are at one stay, no fall to hurt vs, nor rysing to corrupt vs, when friends shall neither be discontētd, nor contented, but in death Dalinea wilbe held from me cry'd he, else I like al the other wel. Could you wish her here with you said Leandrus? No cursed were I then sigh'd he, but I would

faine once more behold her ere I died. To be more torture to her saide. Le∣andrus, content your selfe dearest Parselius said he, and be confident, the Hea∣uens ordaine all things for the best, then doe not repine, you haue made your selfe already famous sufficient to gaine sorrow for your end and reuenge; be then braue and resolute, and make bold Death (by your constant suffering) quake to assaile you. O my Dalinea doest thou thinke of me thy poore, but loyall Parselius said he, thus did he waile, and Leandrus discreetly, comfort being in equall misery. Polarchos and his Mistris harkning to them, she glory∣ing in their distresse, he in soule lamenting them, but must counterfet till fit oportunity was offer'd, which in short time he gain'd, for so fond hee had made her of him as she gaue him the keyes of the Prison, and what else hee demaunded; Then did he prouide armours for them, and one night, in the dead time of the night, when all saue his carefull eyes, and Rosidi's were shut, stole downe into the vault, and there discoursed with them, letting them see both hope and ioy in them. Soone did this worke so with them as they reco∣uer'd strength, and after some time were fit to goe with them; the night be∣ing come for their escape, the honest Morean (who yet without his Wench would not goe) and Rosindy went for them, & carried them into an Orchard thicke & close where they were to tarry his cōming, which was about some houre before day. She loth to part with him as being the last time of enioy∣ing, her soule foretelling some harme: but being so ill, not able to tell her any good to her selfe, or to preuent hurt, was onely troubled; he as willing to stay for the same reason of being the last, for she was pleasing; but when he ro••e and put on his mantle and other cloaths, he againe sat down on the bed, and taking her hand kiss'd it, she tooke him in her armes and kiss'd him, farewell de••re Lady said hee; my better selfe cry'd she farewell. Hee presently went downe (hauing the keyes) a back-way into the Garden and Orchard where they stai'd with his Armor, then arming himselfe he toke his way with them to their horses which attended them at the further gate. A litle sad he was to goe, though glad considering the cause; but so long had hee dissembled, and so feelingly acted his part, as he was caught indeed, such were her allure∣ments, her sweetnesses, louingnesses, delicasies, and pleasures, as shee was fit for any seruant, and yet such her changing she deseru'd none that had worth in him, & yet had he plaid himselfe almost into loue with her. Being farre e∣nough, the rest made sport with their companion to see his passions, and he truely confes••ed he could willingly haue stayed with her, but if euer said he one more be made such a stale as I haue beene, loue will bee vndone, for it will turne that way, more delight lodging by halfe in this sort then in twen∣ty marriages. They were glad he had his content, and they by that their li∣berty, so they posted till they ouertooke Meriana, who was much molested with Rosindi's stay, and well contented when she saw him, and happily did e∣steem•• of her comming that way which brought such good as the deliuery of Parselius, who at her intreaty deliuered the misfortune he ran into in this manner, Most excellent Sister after we had deuided our selues to followe in search of the lost Ladies, it was our ill chance to take that way that led vs hither (into this country I meane) where first we met a pretty aduenture, a liuely Shepheardesse blaming a lusty Lad for falsehood, she chid him, he an∣swered for himselfe, and so cunningly, as though he surely were faulty, yet

he cleared himselfe so finely as she grew patient, but then he waxed surly, so as introath some houres we were pleased with their discourse: especially to see that when they had vsed their best wits, they concluded with kissing, and friendship.

After that, wee met a Lady extreamely amorous, and of her wee had a story, whom afterwards we conducted to the town, from thence wee fell into the plaine where you found my Armour, and where wee lost our selues, for nothing doe I remember after I fell, till I saw my selfe in the caue, where I was visited by the chast Lady of the Castle finding me so weake as she pitied me she said, for me she knew, and after Leandrus. I had, I confesse, once before merited her displeasure, but now surely had died in it, had not your husband succour'd me, the manner was this. I in my youth passed this country, and was brought with much kindnesse to that place where as shee dwels, entertained I was like any King, and cherished like a Louer, shee inui∣ted me to loue by lookes, and alwayes that an amorous woman can intice withall, but I requited not: she yet more charitable to mee then I merited, would perswade her selfe it was want of experience made me so slacke in not vnderstanding her, wherefore at night she came vnto my chamber, the doore I had made fast on the inside, she pulled hard at it, and was no questi∣on angry to be deceiued in her hopes. At last I waked, and suddenly asked who was there, but in such a voyce, as she coniectur'd some other had also laine in her chamber, whereupon she went backe, and the next day told mee of it. I answered, I was sorry for such a losse, but it euer was my fashion to haue one of my Squires to lye by me in the roome where I slept. Truely my Lord saide shee, had I imagined that I should not haue attempted, but loue vrged me, and the better may you thinke of that loue which neuer before was offered, nor till that time had I euer any ill thought. I saide I trusted she did not blame her selfe for that fauour shee had shewed to me her seruant, but I had cause to curse the ill custome which caused my losse, shee tooke that well, and so kindly as I might haue receiued recompence for the former misse; but I was honest, and after kept my doore fast for two nights more that I lay there, brought thither by a Cousen of hers, with whom I got thence, but since I heard how she euer railed at me, saying, I had dishonour'd her with telling the story of her, and thereupon vowed reuenge, which now she had taken. Meriana smiled to heare Parselius tell the tale so hansomely, and all but Polarchos liked, who cried out that for his part he liked her for∣wardnes nothing ill; giue me such a Lady still said he that needs no busines to woe her, but merrily yeelds loue for loue, and rather before then after it is asked. This loue matter held them all that day with talke, making good sport with Polarchos and his opinion of louing, while the Lady was in all the disorder in the world; for first she wanted her woman, then rising and going into her chamber finding her bed made and vnus'd she grew somewhat trou∣bled, sent another of her seruants to call her Morean Knight, his chamber doore they found lock'd, then they thought she might be there, for they had perceiued loue betweene them, they call'd, she vow'd to put them both to publike shame if shee found them together, the fault consisting in not well ordering their affections from sight not in affecting, but the doore broke o∣pen there was onely found on the table a letter to the Lady, and in it no∣thing

but this, liue better, and speede better; search then was euery where for him, when it grewe towards Noone shee went her selfe to the roome where Polarchos had laine to tell him of this businesse (being loth to awake him any sooner) there she found losse, and so in the Caue, and euery where missed what shee ••ought, and found what shee shunn'd, which was want: then she tore her haire, called her Knights, sent them all abroad se∣uerall wayes till they got knowledge which way they went, and with so braue a troupe; then all was discouered, the Bulgarian knowne and the o∣ther, she was as madde as rage could make her, vowing nothing but death should satisfie her.

Meriana held on her iourney and all happily arriued at Corinth, where they were with as much ioy as that sad time could afford entertai∣ned; the Queene being so excellent a woman as she won all to loue her, and striue to deserue her fauour. Dalinea grieued and ioyed, and all at once, as her passions present and passed rann about the round of her thoughts. Orilena wished for Philarchos, who with Perissus had taken likewise their way in search, but made some hast to Corinth, knowing it was boot∣lesse to trauell in those further Countries to seeke them, who no questi∣on were either carried by Sea to some remote place, or Kingdome farre off, or else by shipwracke cast vpon some Iland neere the Gulfe. As they came towards Corinth they met a Lady much distressed, complaining of a Knight that had abused her, Philarchos was willing to ayde her, and so demanding what the matter was, she thus told it vnto him, (demaun∣ding, and being satisfied who he was) I am saide she Wife to a Knight mar∣ried against my will vnto him by my brothers command, whom I obayed hauing no father; he was a man of great esttae, but no way hansome: neither was he deformed but in his disposition which was crooked, with him I liued an vnpleasing and discontented life, suffering his iealousie and all other fro∣ward humours which tooke away the litle show of loue I bare him. I fell then into the way that discontent••d, (and so vnfortunate women often doe) for not able longer to abide his fury I parted with him, hee being for∣ced in recompence of my portion to allow me a certaine stipend during my life, which hee at last was brought to with willingnesse as hee saide. Some yeeres wee passed in this manner, I going to a friends house where I remained some time, and was kindly intreated by him, but his courte∣sie was at last discouered, and finding to what end it tended, I purposed to leaue his house, and did so; yet like a woman did not so much dislike his loue making which was the cause I tooke against him, as I flatteringly commended my selfe for being able to winne a heart, hee frequented my company after vowing all respect, and begging liberty to see mee which should be without touch to me, or my honour. Vnder this ciuill demaund I perished, for then did his second Act please better then the first, and I yeel∣ded though he asked not, and so I was made an vnfortunate creature, for what danger such loue could procure I fell into; I neede say no more, I'me sure by this you vnderstand me, I was carefull of my reputation to the world, though to my selfe I knewe how it was wracked, all possible meanes to auoide reproach I tooke, as I thought, safely and cunningly I carried the matter, yet walked I in net, or like the fowle, that when the

head is hid thinkes all is safe, though his body lye open to ••ight: So did I blinde my selfe, while my action was brought to light, trusting an vnworthy woman, who for couetousnesse vndid me••, leauing others vnsa∣tisfied, that for meere reuenge spred my shame, which came to my husbands eares, and to my brothers, who inquired the businesse and found it so like∣ly, or it may bee true as hee left mee; yet I writ to him, and so faire a letter for likelihood, and comming from a Sister as might haue got credit; but it preuailed not otherwise then to bee forsaken of him. Then did my husband take a disgracefull course against mee, that Country being very strict in punishment for such offences, I was condemn'd, and censur'd, and indur'd my punishment, but then I thought how this man for my paines fuf∣f••red for his sake, I should haue found affection or continuance of his loue. hee also left mee, and in such case as I haue no money or meanes, but to sterue for want, my estate being againe seased on by my husband and yeel∣ded him by censure.

I writ to Amphilanthus to assist mee, which his noblenesse I make no question, in tendernesse to Ladies, would haue done, but hee was call'd a∣way, and I feare informed of my fault, which now I am doubly asham'd of, and grieu'd for: Alas Sir, I haue made a free though a briefe confession to you. I am the wofull'st woman liuing, of a good house, but ill life, of noble parentage, but meane disposition; yet, O Sir, for mercy sake pit∣ty mee. Philarchos beheld her, of personage tall and well shaped, faire of complexion, good eyes, sweet fauour, and of so modest a behauiour, as if her owne tongue had not accused her, she had passed vnblam'd for any show of ill in her fashion, or lightnesse in her countenance. Hee pittied her, and demanded what he might doe to helpe her. Shee told him that if he would ride with her to her brothers Castle, which was within aleague, she doubted not but hee might obtaine her peace; yet dare not I aduenture within his gates said shee, vntill you haue preuailed: towards the Castle they went, being within sight of it, Philarchos spake to Perissus to goe first. Nay, said he, since you haue vndertaken the matter, I will not be so hasty to take it out of your hands, therefore do what you thinke best: on he went, and met the Lord of the Castle her brother, with whom he spake a good space, a ciuil fine Gentleman he seem'd, learned and stored with noble qualities, vnmarri∣ed; but a Cousen germane liu'd in his house to gouerne as Mistris: Shee was not so young nor beautifull, as one might imagine any other cause then to order his houshold was the motiue of her liuing there; yet she was a braue Lady, more manly in her demeanour, and discourse, then the modestest of her sexe would venture to be, and so much that fashion affected her, as she was a little too vnlike a well gouerned Lady. Sh••e had beene hansomer, (a cruell word) but is true; and yet she might well be seeme a faire houses go∣uernment: the Lord was courteous, and so kinde, to his Sisters ho∣nour, which likewise was his, as hee tendred it aboue the rate his Cou••en would haue him, who out of care of all womens credits, as shee pre∣tended raild bitterly against her, reuiling her for immodesty, for disho∣nouring her house, shaming her bloud; more adoe sh••e kept, then he who it did more neerely concerne, yet at last so fairely Philarchos spake, and Pe∣rissus so well wrought with him, as they got his fauour so farre, that he was

contented to see her; but by no meanes in some time to haue her abide with him: they satisfied themselues with that for the first, and so brought her in to him; the next day they all parted, some one way some another, the two companions together, till they came to the neerest part of Achaia, to Corinth; then Philarchos meant to crosse the Gulfe, but Perissus aduised by no meanes to venture it, yet he preuaild; and so they got a little Barque which was no sooner vnder sayle, but with great speed made way, till they were encountred by a Ship, which would needs take them as prisoners. They were not made to yeeld as they thought, neuer hauing beene bred to any such thing, wherefore they brauely fought, and at the boarding got into their ship, fighting with such valour, as they amazed all that saw them, and made their party good a great space; at last they were so hardly laid vnto, as they found yeelding must bee their best defence, but contarily it hapned, for another Ship made towards them boarding them likewise, the fight now anew begun, the strangers fierce, and the others a little wearied; yet what most troubled them was that the two first encountred Knights got new heart againe, and fought as freshly as at first. Discouraged with that, and vexed with the blowes of the last succourers, they would haue shewed them a trick by suddden falling off from them; but the deuice was discouered, and they for their deceipt punished with no lesse then death. The two last were knowne to be Selarinus and Antissius, so the foure tooke their course to Corinth, where they were brauely entertained. Now were all the eight Champions together, none missing but Amphilanthus, and Ollorandus, and Steriamus, who was alone, who will in short time likewise arriue; Rosindy and Selarinus the two deare friends, hauing beene long (as their loue made them thinke) asunder, renewed their kindnesse, and manner of friendly con∣uersation; into a walke priuate and sweete they passd, where loue possessed Selarinus so farre, as hee brake into these passions. Alas Rosindy, said hee, did euer heauen thus punish louers? was any soule tortur'd like mine, or so vniustly condemned to death? what did that chast deare soule merit, to bee taken away and carried from his brest that held it dearest? Why was sweet and dainty Philistella depriued mine eyes, and all my sense of hearing of her, accursed Sea that brought this misfortune, dambn'd Barque that betraid her, and wicked vanity that inticed them to such harme. Was euer beauty so treacherously handled? Did euer eyes see such mis∣chiefe? or eares haue hearing to so wofull a misfortune? O Philistella, trea∣sure of the truest sweetnesse; why art thou lost, and I in thee? Why was euer cruell fortune turned on thee, and why alone wert thou made excel∣lent to bee fallen into this misery? Deare loue, canst thou not yet send thy spirit to mee, to tell mee where thou art? I feare thou hast long since parted from it, and too highly is it prized where it remaines to bee permitted mee. I mourne for thy losse, I dye for thy want, and assure thy selfe will indeed end, when I shall know that thou art not, wh••ch yet, I trust I shall not doe, nor liue to that heariug Why waile you thus, said Rosindy, since shee is but inchaunted? But en∣chanted, why call you that nothing? Shee is your Sister, and you should thinke it a hard fortune for her to suffer such a mischance; but to mee it is death; but inchaunted, and but for euer for any thing wee

know what old fables blind you, lest by enchauntments? when shall the best louer and best beloued be found? till then which will be neuer, neuer being able to decide it, she must liue inclosd in dull walls. Were not my louing armes fitter to embrace her? Am not I a more proper Keeper for such excellencies then a marble house? and is not Epirus a more conuenient place for her to passe her time in, then a stone Theater? where should shee play her part, but with her loue; where liue, but in his brest? and yet you make nothing of this but an enchantment. When Meriana was iniur'd, it was something, when her head appear'd, then there was cause of mourning: but now that Philistella the earths star is lost, she is but enchanted, This passion said Rosindy, so well fits your loue, as I must commend it, and be no way an∣gry with your choller, your constant affection to my sister, moues in mee as much loue as I desire to haue from my best friend•• yet I would haue you temperate in your sufferings. Why should not the best louer be found? Ne∣uer was any such thing made (for I dare not name it againe for feare of dis∣pleasing) but to be ended: was not that at Cyprus concluded by Amphi∣lanthus and my Sister? Yes, said Selarinus, but there bee now both your Si∣sters in this, and Vrania and my Sister, who shall fetch them out? neuer think of it, there liues none now they are there that hath worth enough to venture to haue a thought of gaining end to it. A disguised creature, I sure disguis'd fortune hath caused all this, let me not liue if I beleeue this tale. Wil you for more certainty goe and see it, said Rosindy? With all my heart, said hee, if I were sure to be shut vp where I might but still behold Philistella. That you may doe if you please, and I will carry Meriana to aduenture it. Ah, said he, now doth truth in friendship shine in thee most braue Rosindi, when shall we go? as soon as I can prouide said he, thē went they back into the court, where Rosindy acquainted the Queene Meriana with his purpose. She, who would not refuse any thing he lik'd or mou'd, gaue consent, and so appointed ha∣bites of purpose, disguising her selfe into the shape of a Forrest-Nymph; to Sea they went, and by the directions giuen by the seruants, arriu'd at the rocky Iland, the Pylot knowing the place, being able to bring them the safe∣lier to it without danger. To the Pallace they went, and round ahout it, be∣holding it with all curiosity and care, at last came to the gate againe, which as soone as Meriana touch'd, opened to her, who no question, had ended it for all points but the disguise which was forced. Rosindi and she passd to the Throne and Selarinus with them, who would not be shut out, nor can any be that will venture though alone, he strait ran to Philistella, who met him, and together fold in each others armes, sate downe vpon one of the ascents right be••ore the other, Rosindi and Meriana in her new habits hard by them. No content can be compared to these happy people, because they esteeme them∣selues so. Polarchos would not attempt alone for feare he should sit likewise alone within, therfore he wish'd for his sweet Lady he last parted from, or any other would be alike to him, so she were faire and kind, he walk'd vp and downe alone in the Iland til he saw another ship ariue, then he went towards her to see what company she had in her, he found many, & all determined to try their fortunes; glad he was of that, and they reioyced to finde one could direct them, but among these, who should be one but his old loue and late enemy the Princesse of Rhodes: shee was asham'd and grieud to

see him, he was angry & as much displeas'd to see her, and therfore was lea∣uing the cōpany, almost ready to forswear the aduenture, because he should behold her too long if one hower, for his hate. She sought by meanes of her selfe and friends there, to purchase some discourse with him, he shun'd it, and despised the humblest intreaties shee made; hee saw her weepe, and smil'd at the falling of those teares, shee quak'd for feare of his frownes, hee said he shooke so long time in his iron Cage for colde: shee sigh'd, and pittifully beg'd with eyes and heart for pitty. He scornefully said there was not a more foolish thing breathing then a louing woman, nor lesse to be pit∣tied; for, said hee, their sorrowes are but like exhalations in a hot euening, odde to behold, but neither hurt nor burne like lightening: no more should womens passions touch our hearts to scorch them, or t••rne them to any pit∣ty. Shee confessed her fault to bee vnpardonable. Hee answer'd, it was strange then her iudgement would let her aske impossibilities; hee alone, shee cryde, might absolue her; shee alone, hee said, deserud no good from him. Shee offer'd to throw her selfe at his feete for pardon. Hee said hee would take her vp, but to no commiseration from him. Shee protested her heart had suffer'd innumerable stormes of passionate sorrow since his de∣parture. Hee answer'd, his body and heart both had suffered by her tyran∣ny. Shee repented, and implor'd pitty. He slighted and denyed what euer shee petition'd for. Could there bee such cruelty imagined against such a Suiter? none but cruell man could doe it, and yet was not hee to be blam'd, for what punishment could bee sufficient to bee inflicted vpon a woman, that not only left louing, but hated to that extremity: none can be enough; and yet surely shee now beares the greatest this world can let her know. The other Ladies that were with her, were the Princesse of Samos, (the re∣fused loue to Philarcos) and the Lady of Stalamina Sister to Nereana, all Iland Ladies, and of purpose ioyn'd to try their fortunes: the Princesse of Rhodes was like a Pilgrime, of Lemnos like a Pastora, and the other like a Shepheardesse, they had seruants or louers as you men call them, who by their mistresses fauours aspired to hope of winning; but the Rhodian Lady must trye alone, Polarchos flatly refusing her, who wish'd shee might for euer bee shut vp, and from all light, hauing such vnhappinesse. They ad∣uentur'd and Polarchos sees them all like the others inclos'd. Now hee be∣gins to bee desirous to see the manner of it, and how they sit within; yet alone hee feares to goe, lest he must bee placed with the so much despised Lady. Dayes hee stayed and none came, then he resolued to trye his for∣tune, and so comming to the gate, finds there a young Lady in whose face hee saw loue, for hee will that his gouernment should bee seene, and little cause to doubt the refusing of it to one that kindly would aske it, hee ta∣king the boldnesse of the long knowledge of that place, began to discourse with her of it. Shee, free in discourse, and as willing to answer as hee to demand, they grew so well acquainted as they left the aduenturing the ad∣uenture for that night, and the next day made themselues belieue they lou'd enough to try for the winning of it, which they did, and very louingly were together placed in the row below the other two paire; but so, as his forlorne Lady still beheld their kindnesse to her heart-renting torment. Parselius, hauing now long enough solaced himselfe, would needs bring his Dalinea

to aduenture, and Antissius, who had drown'd himselfe almost in sorrow, hauing visited each place where he had beene happy with seeing Selarina, and kiss'd the windowes with his eyes, where she had wont to grace his loue with her looking on it, would needs goe with Parselius. Dalinea, she put on the habits of a religious woman and so tooke her iourney. Philarchos and his Orilena likewise went, she in habite of a Country lasse; at the Rocke they arriu'd, and as the rest were receiu'd and shut vp in the inchauntment; Antissius taking his Selariua to him, Pamphilia and Vrania sitting in the throne, beheld by the rest, as fittest to be admired. Perissus went to Sicily to fetch his Limena, resoluing to try, and with as much cause hee thought as any. Steriamus who was alone in his trauels, hapned on a fine and vnusuall aduenture; for hee hauing taken shipping, came downe the Gulfe, and pas∣sing by a Rocke, casting vp his eyes, he saw, as he imagined, Vrania sitting vpon the top, in a Pastours habite; wherevpon hee willed the Pylot to goe to the Rocke, which hee•• did, and he landing at the foote of it, scrambled vp till hee came to the top, where hee found an excellent fine woman, her staffe and bagge lying by her side, and shee combing her hayre, her thoughts busied so as she tended nothing but themselues, and as she comb'd her hayre, she sung this Song.

YOu, who ending neuer saw Of pleasures best delighting, You that cannot wish a thaw. Who feeles no frost of spighting, Keeping Cupids hand in awe, That sees but by your lighting. Bee not still too cruell bent against a soule distressed, Whose heart loue long since hath rent, And pittilesse oppressed: But let malice now be spent, And former ills redressed. Grieue I doe for what is past, Let fauour then be granted, Theeues by iudgement to dye cast, Haue not of mercy wanted; But alone at feasts I fast, As Thiefe of pleasure scanted: You accuse me that I stole From you your hearts directing, All your thoughts at my controule, Yet passions still reiecting; But you place me in the roule Of left loues new electing. Though I kinder was to it, My heart in place bestowing, To make roome for yours more fit, As iust exchange truth flowing,

Till you fondly gain'd the bit, And flying, left loue owing. Which debt resting still vnpaid, Let this at last be gained, When your new loues haue you staid, With welcome choyce obtained: Let change on your brest be laid, While I liue still vnstained.

By the voyce hee knew it was not his Vrania, neither was her hayre, though faire, long and bright like hers, nor so delicately shining as it selfe once had beene, hee was sorry and grieu'd his hopes were fruitlesse, yet he spake to her, and shee putting her hayre aside with her delicate fine soft hand disconering a beauty fit to be belou'd and pittied, that it was no more cherished, as by her song it appear'd by him on whom she had bestowed it, mildly made this answer.

Sir, said shee, this place so sad and desolate should not, me thinks, inuite such a stranger vnto it, which is onely acquainted with sorrowe, and distant from all ioy. My arriuall, said he was caus'd by seeing you, a power able to command all passengers to stay, and pay tribute to your deseruings: and this you may because I speake for truth, since I was inuited to land by a strange beliefe, that you were a Princesse whom I seeke, once in Shepheards attire, once lost before, and now againe fallen into that ill fortune, I thought shee might againe put on such disguised habits, and so excellent a creature she is, as you must needs be so too, or could I not haue mistaken. She look'd vpon him, and seeing his teares run downe his cheeks, when hee spake of losse she pittied him and finely made this reply. Alasse Sir, such is your sor∣row, as I must (were it but onely for that) wish I were as you are pleas'd to say I am; for then I should hope to haue something in me to serue you: but so vnfortunate a woman I am, and a long time haue beene, as I can but la∣ment with those I would doe seruice to, nor, except with my teares, assist those I most honour.

How came this fortune to you, said he, for no doubt but you were borne of better ranke then the estate you appeare in shewes you to be: Loue, said shee, hath tyranniz'd ouer me, as well as plaid with you. His sports, if but such as I yet feele, cryde he, are rather racks and tortures then delights, vn∣lesse you will call them playes, as Dogges and Horses are taught by stripes and blowes, and such pastime I haue in loue, and so loue playes with mee: she that time that he discoursed, wound vp her hayre in strings of tawny, to shew her chance; then as if to hide it a little, or rather her selfe from the Suune, shee put a dainty strawne hat on her head, appearing like Ceres crownd with her owne plenty. Hee was desirous to know the place, the name of it, and vnder whose rule it was; but loth he was to trouble the sweet Pastora too much, who vnderstanding his minde, led h••m all about the Rocke, which was some halfe a mile in compasse: in the middest was a pretty fine house, or rather a Tower built round; shee had therein three roomes one ouer another, the top was couered with lead, and there shee vsed to walke and view the Sea, she had two maids that attended her, and

a Heard of Goates, which shee for her pleasure, or rather to passe her time withall, bestowed looking to; it was for the quantity very pleasant & sweet, flowers naturally growing there among the stones, as Pancies and Violets, and others, what could be there shewed him concerning the place, she wil∣lingly let him see, and told him it did belong to the Lord of Corsu, an Iland not farre off, but within sight of it, more it seem'd she was vnwilling to tell, but this the truth of the story was; shee was by birth a great Lady in the be∣fore-named Iland, belou'd and wooed by many, but shee lou'd onely one, who lou'd her as much for many yeares; she was married to a Knight, but her affections were wedded to her owne choyce. He whom shee lou'd was also married; but, like her, to one he car'd not for: Their loue (for what loue can be kept secret where such barres bee for enioying) was seene and spoken of by many, yet few blam'd them, but wish'd they were free, and married together; there was another Lady in the same Country, with whom shee did much keepe company, and at her house had the happinesse to meete her loue; shee being acquainted with their affections, for what could shee hold from this Lady, who was her chosen friend? carefull shee was to keepe their counsels, desirous to aid them in their desires, and as kinde a friend as a true one; but heere began the harme to smother like wet hay in fire, smokes, but the flame was longer in breaking forth. This Lady call'd Siluarina had a cousen whom shee did dearely loue, deseruing from her what loue could bee express'd from one to such a kinsman, who was both that, and a loyall friend to her, nothing so deare to him as her loue, nor of what did hee take care in comparison of her: but being young, (and young men bee wanton) he fell in liking with a seruant that belonged to the Lady, where they lay, cald Diania, shee had others fairer; but this was by him chosen for louelinesse, shee was of as passionate a disposition, as hee apt to receiue, which was to the height of loue, he gaining as it seem'd, what he required as it also was found he did not sparingly demaund. after this, he was perswaded by his friends to go see a Lady, a great marriage, and to wooe h••r; he consented to it, and brake with his Cousen about it, she very wel liked of it, & incourag'd him in it: the spiteful woman seeing that, thought she would haue her time to act her part, & therfore hauing got a false key, one night when the louers had appointed a meeting, (as many they had, though still chast) she opened the dore, and going into the chamber, being certaine by the watch she made that she was gone forth, tooke the lampe which hung on the wall at the beds feete, and hung it in a chayre hard by the beds side, of purpose to giue her at her returne occasion to looke on the remouing of it, and to take a paper which she had laid at the bottome of it, wherin she had written the most vilanous letter for threatnings & reuilings of her for her sin, as she cal'd it, as it a little troubled Siluarina, though she had a great spirit, but that told her she had a husband, and so the knowledge would be dangerous, she had honour that would she be ouerthrowne: lastly, her loue might suffer, which most greeu'd her; for if all the harme had fallen on her, shee had the lesse cared: to auoid this and keepe all safe, she resolu'd to speak with her the next morning, for the hand she knew; but first her seruant comming into the room to see her before he went a iourny he was determined to make for some daies, she shewed him the paper. Hee was vexed, withall being afflicted that

she should be in hazard for him, and in such a kinde, as his paines and stir∣ring in it, would bee the worse for her reputation. Shee was more grieu'd to see him perplexed then with the businesse, wherefore shee did comfort him, and assur'd him shee would finde a meanes to salue all. Hee tooke his leaue of her, enioyning her to send him word how things passed; Shee promised that, and willingly would shee doe it, had it beene for no other cause then so to heare from him whom so dearely she lou'd. Hee gone, she rose, and being ready sent for the Gentlewoman to her, to whom she brake forth into these words. What offence did I euer giue you? or what cause of malice haue you against me to worke such a treacherous practise seeking to ruine me and my honour? She replyed that her Cousen was assur'd to her, and therefore she did it, that you, said shee, hauing such power with him, should not seeke to marry him to the Lady mention'd to him, or to any but my selfe; which if you doe, assure your selfe I will not spare you either to your husband or any els, but the whole world shall bee fill'd with your shame. Threaten not base woman, said shee, I feare not; nor thinke thou shalt make mee so neere thy selfe wicked, as to wrong my Kinsman or bloud so much, as to let him fall to such mischiefe as to bee thy husband: I know you wrong him, for he cannot haue that litle worth to be so fond of so vile a creature, or forget himselfe so farre as to thinke of marrying you, or were it so, neuer thinke tricks can fright mee; of any ill knowne by you that I haue committed, I am as cleere as ayre, onely suspition you may vrge, and that was brought to light by you, and the cause knowne to be malice, who will beleeue you? my life hath gained a settled opinion in the world, not to be stirr'd by your ill tongue; my husband is so iust, as when he shall heare you and me, he wil, I know, right me so farre, as you shall be punished and whipp'd for slandering me: What good then can you hope for; if you doe talke? which doe if you haue a minde to it, and beleeue it you shall bee no more spar'd then you threatned me; What witnesse can be brought against me? an enuious railing woman your selfe onely: What will that worke against me, when differences will be iustly made betwixt you, and me, and malice ouerbalance the report?

Shee hearing her so fearelesse, and knowing those things she spake to be true, found shee was deceiu'd in her plot, and Diania in her inuention, en∣countring another manner of woman then she look'd for: shee therefore turn'd her speech, protesting how much shee had euer honour'd her, that there should be nothing to the value of her life neglected to serue her with∣all, desiring pardon for what she had said, excusing her selfe with madnesse that possessed her for feare her Cousen would forsake her.

Thus they parted, shee carelesse of her danger in outward show to her in whom the danger lay; yet wished she for all her great spirit, that shee were fairely dead, and so her honour safe: it continued thus, her seruant returning backe againe, and meeting her at the same place, Siluarina hauing in the meane time visited her husband, and her Kinsman the Lady hee was to court, at her louers returne, they discoursed of all the pas∣sed businesse: shee contented because hee was pleas'd, and hee to finde her faith and affection best contented, the Gentlewoman affraid, who

thought to bring the braue Lady vnder her power, but her spirit was onely to submit to loue; happy she accounted her selfe euen to blessednesse in her loues requitall, but within one yeere after, whether fully satisfied with her loue, or inamoured (which if I might speake what I thinke was the truer cause) of another in that place led him astray from his first, and fell into the other as violently, if not lesse discreetly. Shee sweete Lady first condemned the choyce, but when she saw she could not by strong hand hold him, she fell to petitioning his returne of loue to her; she writ to him, she spake to him, she did all that a perplexed woman could doe, but all prospered alike. To her companion and friend she complained, she wept to her, she comforted her, nor would she beleeue a long time that it was so, but chid her, as if guil∣ty of false accusing, but when she sawe it as plainly as all others did, she then pitied her, but could not helpe her; when she found no hope nor helpe, she vow'd to die a constant, though vnfortunate louer: griefe made her loose all rest, that made her distemper'd and so sicke, as none had hope of her life, her husband was tender ouer her, and tooke such paines, as hee himselfe fell as sicke or worse then she, who recouered, but he died; then did she sorrow for him whom before she scarce cared for, but noblenesse made her gratefull, and to haue that vertue in herselfe, the want of which at that time in her other selfe caused her torment. When she had performed those rights belonging to her dead husband, and held her selfe according to the manner vnseene for such a time, she was visited, and by her friend and louer who came together, bringing likewise his new loue, & her Riuall, who neuerthelesse she vsed well though she loued her not in that respect, but as her selfe she held a kind opi∣nion of her, but her losse made her seeme vnpleasinger in her eyes, especial∣ly to see him, as if in cruelty so cherish her before her face, which he conti∣nued in to the height of neglecting, and scorning her who best deserued him before the other, as if to merrit the more from her, but herein was his fault, not for louing (that being a passion cannot be resisted) but for hating where he was sought, beloued, and had loued, for if he had not, he could not haue vsed that fashion he did; some will say it was to make himselfe free from her importunity; he might haue sued from that, and haue dealt more iustly and plainely, told her what he stroue by fashion to expresse publikely, yet when some time he came to visit her priuately he vsed her better, showing hy that he would not loose any thing though he did esteeme of it as nothing, this more then cruelty, and she suffered wi••h more then patience, a rare but ill example, that a woman who could contemne all passions, must yet be such a slaue to one, and one that slauishly vsed her. What could be lost she parted from, content, quiet, honour, rest, reputation, fortunes to succeed, for no match was offered her that was not resolued of refusall, nor at last any, all agreeing her loue was so fixed, as it was but vanitie to seeke to remoue it or gaine it from the place, She being in this estate setled, what meanes she had by friends, and her owne suite to the Lord of Corsu, this little Island or Rocke was bestowed vpon her, whither she came, & there liued in solitari∣nesse once, & not long before Steriamus his arriual, her stil loued, though not louing Lord by a storme was cast there, she not at first knowing it to be him, tooke him vp halfe dead, tumbled with the Sea and wracke, she restored him to life and health againe, bringing him home to her house, and with

her wonted affection, as forgetting all vnkindnesse, or rather to make her vertue in constant louing approued, she cherished him, and without showe of discontent entertained him, but nice she was to speake or touch of loue. He vsed her with all respect, and much kindnesse seeing her fashion to him, and hauing (as he might well doe) seene her teares for his harmes which she with care repaied; he staied there till he was well, but thence was fetched by another Lady, who hearing of his being there, and the danger hee had escaped, came thither; she was kindly made welcome to her, although that she knew she at that time was his Mistris, and this knowledge she had from her traine-layer, who out of hate I imagine rather then loue told it her, but the storme of her tormēt was passed, & now loued this Lady for louing him, her quarrell being but to her, that had wonne him immediately from her, so as this Lady was embraced by her, and as a friend receiued; for so she counts all that loues him, or that he loues, a strange expression this is of a loue, yet true it is, for this the Lady doth; she brought them to the Boate, bid them farewell, cheerefully he told her the former strangenesse should be no more, she said then should she forget it euer had beene, thus without passion, but with true friendship they parted, who could not in times pass'd haue said farewell but in teares, and such end hath likely so hot and passionate begin∣nings to end in ashes, what began in flames; and therefore this last is the su∣rest loue which will hold while the truth of friendship is esteemed. This Steriamus got knowledge of by pe••ces from her who would not complaine, nor tell the story her selfe for feare of misconstruction of the hearers, least the relation so rare should haue beene taken for an Allegory, and not a story wherein her vertue should be painted, and not found: or indeede the true cause was, that although she had with all earnestnesse, care, and study striuen to forget her loue, and miserable fortunes, hauing at last obtained all but hating him which her soule would neuer consent to, so wel she still loues him, as she will not let her tongue accuse him; nay, it is so to be feared she will rather blame her selfe then him, were it not for making her selfe by that vnworthy, and so that way likewise wrong his iudgement, the eare she hath is to preserue his worth, no reuenge in her but what her owne heart in∣dured, certainly she resolues to loue and respect him most, she did with excellent discourse, and respectiue fashion vse him, who told her all the ad∣uentures of the lost Ladies which he gained by the seruant of Rosindy, who was sent to tell him of it, and after as iust as he landed also arriued to his great comfort, perswading her so perfect a louer to goe also and try it, but she excused it with her vowe to liue and die in that place, concluding her dayes with her former resolution.

He parted thence, and so left the Lady Pastora on the Rocke as hard as her fortune, and as white as her faith. Steriamus holds on his way, and at last is within sight of the Rocke whither he must goe, being there arriued he came to the house, and at the gate he found Leandrus fearefull to attempt, least he should not gaine the honour of concluding, but he hartened him, and so together aduenture, Steriamus absolutely thinking it belonged to him, and Vrania who had beene disguis'd, and therefore that might be e∣nough to answer those things, that like Oracles are neuer without antiqui∣tie: As soone as they entered Steriamus like the other his Leaders ran to the

Chaire and tooke Vrania, who with him went to the others, a place being re∣serued for her; now were all almost in couples as they wished, Rosindy and Meriana, Selarinus, and Philistella, Antissius, and Selarina, the rest as they would, and came coupled, Polarchos and his soone wonne Lady, Parselius and Dalinea, Philarchos and Orilena, but still Pamphilia sits leaning her cheeke on her hand, her eyes lifted vpwards as asking helpe, at her feete lay Leandrus gazing on her, and as much imploring pity from her, as she begged it from another, with whom her heart was, her eies not in the absence of her heart turning to any other lower then the top of the roome, and there staied by the roofe, not with desire to behold any thing but her loue, and now his m••mory; all ioyed in others loues, and a fine sight it was to see them in their various habits, yet all to one purpose, imitating the world, which for all the changes and varieties she hath, must haue but one conclusion, and one end. Perissus arriues in Sicely without any aduenture, and with as constant a loue as he brought Limena met him, to whom he related all his fortunes, and the accidents in the late warr, there he encountred the two young Princes of Co∣rinthia, to whom they came of purpose to shew their thankfulnes for the ho∣nor done vnto them, both in Knighting them, & bringing them to the know∣ledge of the wrong doer, and to be esteemed & accounted friends to the true and excellent Amphilanthus; He f••asted them, & with great kindnes intreated their stay & company to the inchantment, which they consented to, & before their going thence (which was not in three months) were fit for the aduēture, being both surprised by that secret serpent Loue; the elder falling in loue with a sister to Limena, borne many yeeres after her, and by a second Wife whom her father tooke after the death of her mother; she was a most deli∣cate young Lady, and worthy of a braue seruant which he proued, both loy∣all, and for hi•• valour deseruing fame. The other with a Lady neare of kin to the King who was an heire, and willingly bestowed vpon him with con∣sent of all, especially liked by Perissus, who by this meanes held him alwaies there with him, giuing him great preferments and offices about his person, pro••ing a Gallant Gentlemen, and a faithfull seruant to him and his Crowne, fighting a hard and cruell combat in defence of the Kings honour against a Traytor in that Country, whose head he brought and presented to the King. This he did in the iourney towards the Rocke passing by the Ca∣stle where the ill man liued, who came forth, and chalenged the King, but the youth of Corinthia begg'd the liberty of the combat, and brauely perfor∣med it; in the end they came to the Island, and there with the rest were shut vp, the places being almost full, for daily some or other came. By this was newes of the inchantment come to Amphilanthus, who with Ollorandus were newly returned from their iourney going into Hungary to visit Melysin∣da; they had raised some pretty aduentures in their trauels, and had a more pleasing time of it, then in any they had made before; being free, and better disposed, and hauing got againe some of their old passions, or memories of them about them, which made Amphilanthus willinger to try the aduenture, and release Pamphilia, of whom he had let in a more courteous opinion then he had when he first blamed her, or thought she had done amisse, yet no fur∣ther it passed. Musalina must needs see this inchantment, with her went Luce∣nia to see this also, and to be an Actor in it, so like an Amason Musalina attires

her selfe, though vnfit habits for her, who was no hater of mankind; Lucenia like an AEgyptian, and towards the place they trauell, Lucenia vsed among them like a countrey Lady in the progresse hauing on to see, but little re∣spected, meeting with the proud Queene of Bulgaria; but now Leonius must be spoken of, who going directly into Greece, met nothing there for many dayes but the sorrow for the lost Ladies, hee had no disposition to sorrow, therefore meant not as yet to visit the Court, but as others did, he being as much as many ingaged in good nature to follow the search, determined vpon that, but then he came into a part of Arcadia, not taking the directest, but pleasantest way to the Sea; at the entring into this Paradice on Earth for sweetnes, delicasies spring••ng there as pl••ntifully as Primiroses in other poorer places, he liked, and wonder'd, not sufficiently as he thought, being a∣ble to contemplate the fulnes, and richnes of the bounty of that Prouince, riding sometimes, sometimes walking, b••holding the rarenes of it, yet when he had seene all the varieties encrease in varying to pleasure, he was yet set vppon by a more admirable sight which was the most delightfull obiect for man to like, and this as well to be liked as any, being a faire and daintie woman, appearing a Shepheardesse, but such an one as AEnona was in her time framed as if but to be remembred, and set as a foile to the excellency of the perfections in this creature, so much surpassing description as conceit doth commonly excell expression. The young Knight beheld this shining Starre with amazednes, while she past not farre off from him, her aparrell a gowne of gray, cut square, a fine ruffe about her necke: a litle before it was open, the rest couered with pure white strips, but a more pure whitenesse ap∣peared when the skinne was seene as white and soft as Swannes downe on the breast, her haire carelesly throwne vp, neither tiyde, nor vntyde, but cast into a delightfull neglectiuenes, some pretty flowers, and kno•• of ash-colour ribon, being here and there placed between the loose fastenings of her haire; gloues she wore none, shewing the innocent vertue she was inriched withall, her legges and feete so delicately shaped, as they would rather seeme fram'd for showe then vse; yet were they but fine enough to carry the body they were made to serue. She went with a modest, but cheerefull pace, and being a litle pass'd looked backe againe, with which he was (alasse) strooke, and all his senses ra••ished, his loue onely a senselesse passion, especially when so suddenly surprising, and at best but a sportfull madnesse possessing, and ta∣king the place his better wits till that instant dwelt in, her bright and faire gray eyes looking as if the Moone in all her glory of brightnesse could haue a companion, together her commanding beauty wrought so in the Prince, as he was a new creature, yet part of the olde man, which was boldnesse got so farre into him as he followed her, knowing that a man who men•• to followe aduentures must not feare any thing: especially a woman, and so sweete an one. They passed the plaine, and so entered into a litle Groue, where he heard as at her comming exquisite Musique, drawing neerer hee discerned a Fountaine made in the fashion of an Emperiall Crowne with a Globe on the toppe, out of which like a full shower of raine the water came so plentifully, and showringly, as it resembled such plenty, so finely was it counterfeited, and the trees grewe so, as who hadde stood in the wood would not suddenly haue knowne whether it had rayned or no,

so powringly high, and sweetely it fell like an Aprill shower, and so farre, as it came vpon the boughs of the circkling trees, ratling among them to second the musicke. Vnderneath was the place where many sat round, the water falling beyond them, as if ordained for a coole Canopy to shelter them from heate, and not to offend with one teare-like drop, lest that might make sad∣nesse thought on: there did she with her companions in that life place them∣selues, the Groue was much of Sicamore trees, the rootes of which, and be∣tweene which were set with Roses, and other sweete Flowers, Violet, Pinck, and many such; without this was a fine circle, paued with seuerall coloured stones, into which the water fell, and made a pretty murmuring brooke, the waste of which deuided itselfe into two lesser, running as with paine to part from those excellencies, in teares kissing the bankes for parting from them. Mirtle and Lawrell was also flourishing, to shew them, that although Venus were Lady there, yet Apollo was often called, and for his sake his tree was honoured among those beauties. Many faire Maides were sitting about her, and such as had she been away, might haue been commended highly; such possession had this sight gaind on the Prince, as he gazed euen to blindnes, like one too long looking on the Sunne: he admired, till he lost sense to ad∣mire, yet went his senses but round, for comming to the first place, hee had sense againe to loue in wonder, but out of that he was put, for the heate a lit∣tle slacked, she rose, and the rest attended her, shee leading them, and one more then her wonted troope, the Italian Prince prisoner. He durst not fol∣low neere, yet did his eies kisse euery step she took, while he imboldned with loue, yet a little with-held by feare, went sadly and softly on, a prety young Shepherd came smiling to him, vsing these words.

If Sir (said hee) this sight hath any way displeased you, the same may make you amends, for surely you see not such euery day; or if a former cause molesteth you, looke on these Lasses, and assuredly you will be cured? There can (said hee) be little hope of cure from them, where such danger dwells. You should not me thinks (answered the Lad) doubt, nor is it for a man of your profession to feare, especially Beauties; yet indeed I cannot blame you since al eies that haue seene these, haue yeelded their hearts as slaues to them. Leonius made no answere, the Shepherd proceeded; But Sir be not afraid, for belieue me, they are not more faire then courteous. Alas (cryd he) how can I who am a Stranger, yet a possessor of a lost liberty, and imprisoned hart, pre∣sume to come where such perfections rest? Who dares approch lightning, no more dare I into her presence, neerer then to admire and behold her. I must needs say, replide the Youth, it is the lesse strange that you are touched, since all our hearts are subiected to the lowest of despaire.

I would I were but touched cryd he, then might I scape, but I am woun∣ded vnto death, would I had beene a Shepheard as you are, and tended flockes, so I had not knowne the torment of lost ioyes, or so happy as to haue beene borne among you, or destined to liue for eternall good with you. Why may you not, said the Shepheard; many good Knights haue after great honors gain'd retird, and taken our liues vpon them. It is true, answerd he, and had I done any thing yet to answere my birth, or now taken order I would doe so too. Heere are (said hee) many occasions to exer∣cise your strength in, wee haue games which when you trie, you will say, cleare force must bee found in the best performancers of

them; besides wild beasts that often spoile, and vexe our flocks; nay, the last day, that rare creature you (I am su••e) most and only admire was in danger of a fierce Beare by misfortune let loose. This stirred vp his thoughts, O said he, why was I so vnfauoured by fortune, as not to be here, and being here, to deserue by my seruice, at least one kind looke from her, who holds my soule, and it should seeme yours: but if so, be not angry that I aduenture to confesse my selfe your Riuall, you haue already a little encouraged me, in telling me, all hearts yeeld, then I trust I shall not fall into your displeasure for being one of the Company. In all true respect I confesse I am (said the Lad) her ser∣uant; but such are her perfections, as teach vs not to aspire higher, then to behold, and obay her, other thoughts wee are not permitted, but banish as treasons; and no more able are wee to giue birth to so high desires, then to looke on the Sunne, without hauing our harts throwne downe condemned, as our eyes cast wateringly for presumptuous gazing, begging pardon for such attempt. Dare you not loue her (said he)? can feare appeare before bold loue?

My hardinesse (said the Lad) ascends to serue her with my life, my hopes, to be accepted as her creature, and this will be farre beyond my me∣rit, if I gaine so much; and that I feare, as something makes you doubt. I doubt indeed (said he) and feare to giue offence, because I loue; I likewise loue (said he) and loue you for your loue; for had I not been a louer, I could not so soone haue found your disease; I iudged you straight by my selfe, I pitied you as I doe my selfe, who fell in loue directly as you did, the first ••ight strake me, I was wounded with the first dart her killing eyes did shew towards me, alas, she meant me as she vowes, no harme; but what wretch could I do when I was hurt? I durst not aske ought but pardon: she granted that, and weekes did passe, before I sought her fauour, and moneths ere I did venture for re∣ward; but all this makes you (I perceiue) run further in your error, therfo••e not to hold you any longer in this doubt, it is the Shepherdesse that sat on the right hand of the fairest that I seeke to gaine, and now I hope shall win, for she lookes kindly on me, takes my pres••nts, smiles vpon my flockes, cherish∣eth my Dog when he fawnes on her, who as if he knew his Masters mind, stil waights on her, lyes at her feete, when God knowes I could be he, and oft do enuy his good luck, when she doth stroke him on the backe, and playes with him; she takes my Songs, and ••ings them, happy lines that euer gaind such blisse, to kisse those sweet lippes passing into ayre, as scorning other place then her breast, when she will expose them vnto eares should harbour them; she sometimes likewise will giue mee some of her making, and commends my voice, makes me sing to her, which I doe, and yeeld her owne words to her best knowing iudgement. She requires mee presently, and sings mine vnto me; then I say they are only good, when she doth grace them so; she answers best our songs befits our mouthes, and eares, these are not onely signes, but I doe thinke, or much do flatter my poore selfe, they are assurances, and thus Sir now I hope that you are satisfied.

I am (said he) doublie tide to you for your relation, which doth speak iust truth, and for your loue which in this shews to me. While they were thus dis∣coursing, they heard a pitiful cry, & as it were the shriks of womē, which made them hie to the Plaine, where they saw the same fierce Bea••e hastily pursue

the glory of those parts, ready almost to close her in his iawes, the rest of the women crying, and assisting her onely with their lamentable voyces, the on∣ly helpe that sex can yeeld in such a danger, yet now came it wel, for the noise brought Leonius to her aide, who only sought to saue her selfe by flight, but cryde not like the women. No neede there was to desire, or intreate him to assist, for carried by the wings of loue, he flew to her succour; she seeing him runne to helpe her, turned her course that way, as shee ran, her dainty leggs were seene, discouering such excellency in shape, and swiftnes, as that had bin enough alone to conquer; she passed by him, hee standing still to encounter her enemy, yet did his eyes cast amorous wishes after her, his spirit raised in hope to meete the Beast, who gaped, as wanting breath to hold the ioy hee had in expectation, to deuoure that sweete portion of excellent daintinesse; furious to be deceiued, he sought to execute his furie on him, from whom he got a sharpe, and sower encounter, Leonius his sword passing into his throate, wherewith he fell, then strake he off his head, for hauing let a presumptuous thought enter to hurt the delicatest Shepherdesse, now Vrania had left that habit. This blow being giuen, the before flying beauty returnd, but in a more quiet and soft pace, which let the Italian with more leisure behold her, crying within himselfe; Oh that she had but as much affection, as I haue loue, then would she with as sweet swiftnes run to me, as from the Beare, which sight did in feare yet content so much, as he could haue found in his heart (but for her harme) to haue indured the Beast, and haue clasped her in his armes as she ran by him, her danger hindred his attempting pleasure, and so shee was saued, taking her sight into his heart, in stead of her longed-for selfe into his breast, passions were as full in him, as Motes in the ayre, flying vp and downe like flies in a hot day; buzing and swarming like Bees, that for all their pro∣fitable hony bring stings with them: or like a neast of Waspes, that one time beset one with their fury, and giue no profit if shund or ouercome, except their owne poore bodies, worthlesse and gainelesse: those thoughts hee ga∣thered together, as like a Fisherman, that in his net catcheth all that comes within it, yet pickes hee out the choicest, and appoints some to keepe, some to sell, some to giue, and some to throw in againe, as not fit for keeping: so did he cull his seuerall passions, some he chose to present her withall, some to hold in himselfe, to please her withall, others not to be seene by her, he cast a∣way into the floud of his forgetfulnesse, whence none should arise to giue her distaste; a commendable vertue in Youth, to shun what may by Youth shame to offend; hee loued, and therefore was curious not to displease his best be∣loued, his highest desire being to content her, by whom hee must only bee contented, hee shunnes all else, as she did the Beare, which yet he loues, be∣cause hee brought him meanes to doe her seruice.

When hee had killed the Beast, hee tooke the Head, Paw, and Heart to present her withall; Speeches hee framed to deliuer to her with those won reliques, Prose and Verse hee summoned, doubtfull which should please, he stood as if musing what hee might doe to please her best; hee feared one while the hideous face of the Beast would fright her, therefore thought the heart fittest, and enough to shew her, as her prey, the Paw hee thought fit, because it was lifted vp against her, and if that, the Head as necessary which hatched the treason, of these three, and with these three he danced the Hay in

discourse, and still ended iust as vncertaine and apt to begin againe, as to con∣clude; a faire victorie made him thinke a fairer acceptance must be yeelded him, a bold attempt to saue her, boldnes might be waranted in that respect to speake to her, desert then claimes reward, how should the claime be answerd if not made? he must then aduenture, and as••e it, refusall cannot bee, where knowledge, and instant sight sayes, it is requisite. Valor must be adored, and loue cherished. Tremblingly hee stood, as if afraid of that dead which hee kild, his hands shook that held the head, his other hand strake off, his eies vn∣certainly rold, that were ••ixt to his ruin, his legs shakes vnder him, that against his enemies like pillars, vphold his strength and courage: and this is loue that made him seeme so weake a piece, and it was loue that made him so fierce against her enemy, he looked towards her, and sigh'd within himselfe these lamentations. Alas, said he, that that face the heauen of mildnes and sweet∣nesse, should carry with it such cruell force, as with delicacy to destroy; why should those eyes my soules only comforts looke, and not with as much loue as mine, since they are fairer, mine more louing, they more beloued? those dearest lipps, let them not seuer, if not to speake requitall to me, let them not tel my bane, yet rather then not suffer me to heare that voice speak any thing, but if possible O speake but loue; those feete and leggs, the rich, and match∣lesse supporters of this our heauen, bring her not to murder mee, lade your selues with pitie and compassion, then come apace, and giue life to the most pe••plexed louer. All this while she was comming, while he attended, as a pas∣sionate man doth the breaking of the day, when he is to visit at that time his loue. Dawning and leasurely shee came, hee thought shee made small haste, yet came too fast if loue did not accompany her, and that loue to him like a delicate young Courtier, who is to make his estate by the marriage of a great heire; when hee comes before her, is at first timerous, loth to offend, yet dressed vp in all richnes and finenes: so was hee, his Helme hee tooke off, rubd vp his Haire, wiped his face, set on his most manly, yet amorous countenance, knowing women loue not childish men, how much soeuer they commonly like louelines, and the choicest beauties. Poore man to see what a busines he kept with himselfe were strange, that hee who but newly come to know passion, should bee in so much variety, and skilfull manner of learned knowledge to win, as those who after their naturall inclination change, and wooe daily, but to such it is pleasure and delight, to this young man torture. He sighed, he looked, he prayed, he wished, he did all, and yet nothing that might helpe him, for so long he was in these distempers, as either ignorance, neglect, or ill manners were like to be laid to his charge, who indeed was an exact fond louer taken, and spoild at first sight; the louing Country of Italy could neuer make him thus passionate, the beauties there were as ones owne Country, esteemed nothing so pleasing to one, as the thought of others, till they be tried, Arcadia is the place can onely captiuate his heart, and there must he tast the paines, makes him wish to be in Italy with freedome. O sweet place, heauenly Paradice (said he) what delights be in thee, but what serpents keepe them from enioying? stories I haue heard of waters; and trees kept by Monsters, but what rarenes was euer thus kept, as loue keepes her, and mee from asking pity, while he stood letting his imagination twine out the time, which he might, if acquainted with loue, or bred in his cunning Schoole, haue

vsed to farre more gainefull purpose. She past feare of danger, secured by the death of the Beare, her before threatner, turned back, and came to thanke him; but what with her sight and words, he stood in as still a Posture, as if the Beast in death had also wounded him, which made that excellent Shepher∣desse take him by the hand, and kindly demaund how he felt himselfe; but the touch of her dainty skin, with the rare softnes, gaue a more cruell hurt to his heart, then the hard sword had giuen (though death) vnto the Beast. Hee could not answer but with sighs, his eies raining showers of teares, and yet as through a wet cloud gazed on her: She was sorry for his sorrow, and wished her helpe might pleasure him, it was she alone that could doe it, but he du••st not hope for it, nor aduenture to demand it; then were the rest come vnto them, who stirred not, but looked like metamorphosed creatures, their hands fast in one anothers, she pittying, and hee that had what he could wish, yet fearing it, enioyed it not, which the Shepheard Youth perceiuing, louing Leonius as much, as man could loue another with no more acquaintance, stepped to him, Sir, said he, it appeares that the sudden ioy of this braue victo∣ry, with the releasing of this rare beauty before you from such danger, doth too much possesse you, or else the same fit which this day I found you in, hath againe ouercome you. He now who shame instructed to be carefull, starting as children doe at Bugbeares, told him, that it was true, his fit had taken him, and held him worse then it had done before, which had caused that stilnesse in him, for which he asked pardon of the most faire Shepherdesse, and kissing her hand, assured her, that nothing was more comfort to him, then the rescu∣ing of her; nor any thing more grieuous, then that he had been so rude, as not to acknowl••dge the fauour she did in comming back to thanke him for that, wherein he did but the due of any one to serue, and preserue such beau∣ty, thinking himselfe most fortunately borne, and brought thither at that time so to doe her seruice. She mildly and modestly blushing told him, the good fortune was hers, which had gained not onely safety, but that from the noblest hand and heart; so taking away her hand (which was a death-like blow to him) courteously bid him farewell, with millions of kind thanks, and sweet words vnto him, euery one of which were wounds vnto his soule, because with them she left him.

They gone, he alone but for the Shepherd, began his complaints, partly to himselfe, partly to his new friend in this manner. Is it possible O Arcadia, the most sweet and delicate of all these Prouinces, that in thee there should liue so dangerous a creature, as at first sight should wound, and kill with the first touch? alas my friend, what peril doth abide in these most dainty dwellings? were these places ordained excellent, and alluring to draw men to their ends? are you made happy with seeing delicasies only to see them, but to taste none other then sharp murders? O my father, how hast thou left thy son in thine owne friends dominions to bee slaine, and by a woman? how will you brauest brother, disdaine my bloud vanquished by a looke? O Arcadia in your sweetnes I am martyrd, and one of your Kings blood thus you kil, are you not then guilty of treason?

The Shepheard who now perceiued this Knight to bee a Prince, and by his words an Aliance of that Country, hee kneeled downe, and thus spake, My Lord said hee, blame not this place for that, for which I

doubt not but you shall haue cause to loue it, accuse not your friends, since if they saw your vallour and braue destroying that fierce Beast, they would without question glory in your vertue, nor be displeased with your fortune, or loue, since fortune hath brought you to loue one the most loue-worthy, and I beseech you what cause haue you thus to complaine, not knowing whether you may be fauourd, or disgraced, I see no reason you should bee discontented if not, that you would not receiue kindnesse, she so mildly, and sweetly affording it. Loue; Loue it was, and is cryd he, makes mee thus wretched, what can I doe when my senses in her sight faile me? how can I haue comfort when deadly dispaire makes me not dare to hope? what shall I ioy in, when I scarce may venture to looke on her, who must deliuer mee from this bondage? noe I see no remedy when I am not able to aske, or take it. I am lost and only found by dispaire, and desperate loue. Then did his teares follow those words, and groanes those teares, till the Sheep∣hard began againe.

My Lord said hee yet heare me, there is a way whereby you may let her see your loue, and yet not speake it, your teares thus continually shed, your sigh's still breathing out your passions, your groanes foretelling death, will all truly witnesse your affliction, and sue for you; pull off these habits vnfit for these passions, & put on such as I wil prouide for you, so well agreeing to your humour as the cloathes, and the action shall make her vnable to with∣stand so much pitty as must breed loue, and that loue if you then discreetly gouerne it, will procure your happinesse. Direct me deere friend said hee, and let me enioy her loue, and be assured I will make thee see I am not vn∣gratefull. Then my Lord said hee, you shall put on the habit I will tomor∣row morning bring to yonder Groue, but be sure you be there before the Sunne appeare, least they be there before vs, and after follow my aduice, so shall you I feare not come to your wishes end, but withall you must pro∣mise, and performe assistance to me. Leonius could but with kind teares, and straightly embracing him, giue him thankes, and promise; thus they re∣solued, the youth went to the next towne to buy things fit for the Prince, while he with sad thoughts, vncertaine wishes, and wrestlesse passions spent the time till his returne.

The Sheepheardesse who (poore soule) before knew but her owne beau∣ty, now found anothers to master her, I would said she the Beare had de∣uoured me, rather then this torment should perplexe me. Why did this Stranger succour me? of purpose was he sent to torture mee, must I be made a subiect to one I know not? and suffer afflictions for one I shall no more be∣hold? fie vpon this strange loue, which makes me so strangly loue as to af∣fect impossibilities, but I see I am but iustly punished for disdaining all the Youths of these parts, thinking none worthy of me, now I must loue one that knowes me not, will no more see mee, and surely loues an other. Pride, it is you haue vndone mee, I confesse my fault, I sorrow for it, yet Venus helpe me, Pan our Sheapheard-God assist mee, let not one of your seruants, nay poore me your seruant thus distressed liue; I recall my former scorn∣ings, I repent my disdaines, I accuse my selfe more then you can blame mee; O ayd me then. Thus she pass'd the night in millions of such like complaints, till morning being come she rose, and hastely dressing her, ray∣sed

her flocks before their vsuall time, as shee was raised by this vnusuall pas∣sion; to the plaine she went, there awhile she stayed, yet rested no where, sometimes shee walked a pace as if she would leaue that paine behind her, but seeing it so closely follow her lay downe embracing it, yet blushing would turne her face on the ground, and seeme ashamed of her owne thoughts. O Chastity said shee, why doe you wholy possesse mee? deere Diana take me to thee, but then did Venus as in rage increase her flames, making her forget all but her affections. Then rising, to the next tree shee went which was a Willow, and of those branches she puld, and with them crowned her selfe, casting off her strawne hatte, her Sun-beame haire falling downe at the full length, which with a little fine, and naturall curling reched to the small of her leg, and the rich thicknesse spread it selfe ouer her shoulders; there a∣while she stayed, grauing some few words in the Barque of the tree, agree∣ing to the paines shee felt, and condition of that tree, whose softnesse concur'd with the yeelding hearts of lo••ers, but the Fate giuen it to be forsa∣ken, and made it to be the Garland for such haplesse creatures. Well poore Willow said she, thou shalt yet be my companion: and I will honour thee, though happier folks despise thee; then went she into the Groue, but as little stayd shee there, flying the company she saw there assembled, seeking new places, as all doe that seeke ease, and hope for it by trauell; so shee pass'd a∣long the side of one of the little Brooks, her eyes still fixed vpon it, speaking sometimes, at last shee said these words. Poore Brooke said shee, how like my paines are yours, I seeke to flye from the Spring of my sorrowes, so fall you from your head: how fast sweete Brooke you runne in hope of eafe, so fast doe my poore hopes flye from my hart: stay, turne your course, and I shall hope to liue, notwill not be, you runne, and I continue in my paines. As she went on sadly bemoning her solitary thoughts, she heard as pittifull a voyce vtter these vnperfect ioyn'd words, Leonia poore Nimph said it, where is thy vowe? must Venus make thee change? O loue, coward loue to steale thus to my heart, couldest thou not haue come brauely, and contended with me in the Chase, or taken me in the time when I did reuile thee, and scorne thy power, but to set vpon me when I was quiet, and safe as I thought, treacherously to lye in wait and betray mee when I was vnarm'd, naked, and without power to resist, and more for my shame when I had sworne to Diana, what punnishment will that chast Goddesse lay vpon me for this of∣fence? But foole why talke I of these poore things which in comparison of my woe are but blossoms. I loue, and must loue, what then? I will loue, and die in loue, then shall that Cruell see written in my heart that murther thus committed, vnkind, alasse my soule melts as these teares, and yet to thee my paines are no more waighed then bubbles, my hart weepes blood, pitty me then, say you do pitty and saue me, pitty said the Sheepheardes is that I want; what new companion in my woe haue I found heere? with that she went towards the place from whence as shee imagined that sad voyce did proceede, when as a little from the banke vnder the shade of mirtle trees, which made as it were a Cabine of them selues, lay a Forrest Nimph, her apparrell of colour and fashion like Diana, buskins vpon her leggs of white, her haire tyd vp, only some of the shortest, and about the temples curled, crowned with Roses, Hyacinths, she lay with her head toward her,

who with a soft pace went on till she came iust behinde her, then viewing her earnestly, her eyes being so full of loue, as all louing creatures found a power in them to draw them to her call, especially those eyes which were so much hers as they could not stirre but to her will, commanding them so, as shee could with her looking on them with louing force, bring them to her owne; and so it now prooued, for those eyes which full of teares were seeing them∣selues in the streame, shewing their watry pictures to each other, her earnest viewing the Nimph with a naturall humblenesse to hers, drew her lookes to her, ioy then appear'd in the Nimphes face, yet straight was that clowded with sorrow; She rose, and with a timerous (though she imagin'd bashe∣full) countenance and fashion, saluted her.

I did thinke faire Nimph, said the louing Shepherdesse, that it had been impossible for me to finde any so like my selfe vnhappily wounded. Why are you hurt faire Shepherdesse, said shee? alas I am sorry for you, and wish your remedy, for none knowes the torment of dispaire like to my selfe, and therefore in charity would haue none else afflicted with it, but it is very strange that such beauty should complaine. Alas said shee, oft times perfe∣ction is turnd to the contrary, and so is it in me, if in me be that you spake of: but I pray sweet Nimph, let me take boldnesse to demand of you, of whence you are and what hath brought you hither. Loue said she, for this must be the first, and last of my discourse, all other matters how great soeuer, being but dependances of this. My name (said shee) is Leonia, my profession was what my habits tell me to be, but loue hath altered me, no more must I a∣buse my Mistris who I serued, since I haue left her and an new one now haue gain'd, a poore change, (yet the fruit of change) when for liberty and plea∣sure I get beggery and slauery: Then this passion, rare Shepherdesse, for nothing but misery followes it. Alas it is too late, said shee, you giue this couusell out of time, for I am in the prison too fast locked, by any meanes, but by loue to bee freed. Are you in loue then said Leonia? Oh haples m••, why, said the Shepheardesse, doth that grieue you? It grieues me that such sweetnesse should be vexed. It grieues me more (crid shee) that I loue in de∣spaire. Thus both afflict me, said Leonia, and on these doe I plaine, and in them die. Let vs sit downe and tell our woes said she? Mine are all endlesse said the Nimph, yet I will not refuse to doe what you command, for you may helpe me if you will but pitty mee. I pitty you, said shee, and loue you, for in you I see (O deere remembrance) many things which report sent my loue vnto mine eyes; with that the Nimph did blush, the Shepher∣desse went on: Be not offended sweetest Nimph, said she, for he was excel∣lent whom I did loue, and doe loue, rare for true beauty and valour, and O, too braue for me; none can be so (sigh'd shee) faire Shepherdesse, for the fairest, and brauest must sue to you for grace: but I did blush to heare that I should seeme so fauourably blessed in your all-conquering eyes, as to bee thought but to resemble him that happy man whom your great goodnesse loues. But to goe on, I was by my owne sute to my parents chösen a Nimph, and accepted into the number and seruice of Dianas seruants, being giuen to all those sports that Goddesse did affect, but especially, to throwing my Dart at markes, and shooting in my bow at beasts, or any thing, so cunning I was in that exercise as I could hit a bird at great distance; oft times I would

take my Grayhounds, and course the Deare, or Haire, being so nimble, as I could follow them where ere they went; these, and many other harmelesse delights I liued in, till one day sacrifising to Diana, vnhappily for mee, there came a Youth, who hauing kild a terrible Beast, offered it to the Goddesse, as the Princesse of the Woods and Desarts, this offering prooued strange, ma∣king my heart the Victim bleeding, and lying on the Altar, dedicated to his loue, thus doubly had hee conquerd, I fainted, fearing the chast Goddesse, yet I was rescued by Venus, who promisd her assistance, but not so well armd by her, as not afraid of Diana, I fled from those parts, and since haue I roamed about, directed by mine owne despaire, for neuer since haue I se••ne my loue; the forgetfull Goddesse hauing enough in winning, but scorning too much care hath I feare forgotten me, contented with my yeelding, but carelesse of my proceeding; I seeke still, but I know not with what hope, I haue wept, and grieued, and so I feare still must, and thus liues, and perpetually laments the poore vnblessed Leonia. The Shepherdesse catching her in her armes, Ah my companion in my woes (said she), let vs still liue together fittest for our for∣tunes, let our teares be shed together, our sighs breathed together, and let vs neuer part, but alwaies keepe together. This was what the Nimph desired, being so glad of that embracement, as she could haue found in her heart to haue forgot her habits, but danger of loosing all, if not gouernd with mode∣stie, till apter time gaine fitter oportunity of discouery, she only with an affec∣tionate kisse, and that shee would not suffer her selfe to misse, being such an one, as liked Veralinda (for so the Shepherdesse was called) better then any of her fellows kisses, for this seemd more passionatly kind, gaue liberty to that, and then began her owne discourse thus. My name is Veralinda, daughter I am to the Kings Shepherd, who dwels vpon yonder Hill, his place, estate in goods, and some kind of thing in me, which these people here call beauty, hath made me to be sought by many, but I haue still refused all, truly I must say with some neglectiuenesse; for which I am punished, and if I flatter not my selfe aboue my merit, the paine being more then the offence, for I am made to loue in dispaire, to hope in losse, and affect one I know not, or can a∣spire to thought of euer seeing him againe, Destiny preuailing in this, & I am left a poore example of the Fates tyranny: for how can I hope, that if I meet him, hee could fancy mee: he a Knight, I a poore Maide; he a Prince it may be, and surely is, for Princely vertues dwell in him, beautie vnexpressable, and such as but in you I neuer saw any like him, and so like are you, as I loue you for his sake so much, as loue can command loue to the Image of their Deare.

Valiant hee is aboue expression, and mild, and curteous; but what doth grieue my soule most, is, he•• surely loues. And surely would loue you (said the Nimph) if hee could bee but happy with the knowledge, in the meane space grace mee with your fauour, which I will striue like him to merit, let mee enioy those sweete embracements you would yeeld to him and thinke I am your loue, which I will doe by you, and in that thought till wee bee blessed with perfecter enioyings, we shall haue some ••ase.

She condescended, and so they kissed againe, wishing and louing, they re∣mained, passing many such pleasant times, till at last the wonder of such

affection twixt women was discouered, and it may be, had then bin brought to light, had not the Shepherdesses arriued to his griefe, and no way to her content, who truly loued the sweete conuersation and discourse of this Nimph: to the Fountaine they then altogether tooke their way, the Nimph setting herselfe so, as she might both see and touch the loued Shepherds, all the rest beholding this stranger with as much admiration, as shee did their Mistris, thinking no difference betweene them in beauty, saue that the new guests fairenesse seemed more masculine, as fitted with her estate, yet full of graue, modest, and seemely bashfulnesse. Thus they beheld each other, the Shepheards passionately beholding Leonia in memory of her loue, and the Nimph amorously gazing on her in her owne passions, till the musick a little awaked them, making their eares proue traytors to their hearts, for letting in any thing to them but loue. Loue is a subiect so delightfull, and alluring, as it not onely winns, but commands the very soule to the hearing, or writing of it, so wholly possessing, as it caused this amorous accident, and yet will not permit a resting here, but proceedes to Amphilanthus, and his company, who liued in all pleasure outwardly, yet fed sometimes with a bare hope, as others were, and this oft they felt, and after learned to know; they passing a∣long a prety time without aduenture, it was their chance to meete the same proud Queene of Bulgaria, whom Rosindy had encountred, but vpon fairer termes, for she knew Lucenia, and she did (as she was an excellently wel fashi∣oned woman) giue her respect answerable to her heart. Amphilanthus beheld her, and thought her as faire as she was, yet not a woman (at least as hee pro∣tested) to worke wonders on him; yet shee doubted not, nor was afraid, to shew, that shee thought, he was her seruant, if shee pleased: but wrong hath been done to that famous and excellent Prince in that kind, many times by a noble free fashion hee had, which gaue ignorant or bold people liberty to speake of him: but to our purpose.

After they had discoursed some dayes together, much intreaty hauing pre∣uaild, they obtained her company to the Enchantment, the noble Amphi∣lanthus assuring her, that the King would not be offended, when he should be told, with her iourney, that shee had taken it vpon his request; they came downe still, till they were neere the Gulfe of Lepanto, where they meant to ship, and so to goe for the Rocke: but as they were one hot afternoone sit∣ting in a shade, a louely sweet creature as those parts yeelded, apparelled as that Country fashion was, for the better sort to weare, passed by them.

Musalina would not let her goe so, but walked to her, who with much ciuilitie staid, and attended her commands. Shee demanded some questions of her, shee answered them with sweet and pleasing truth, at last good bree∣ding made her know, that curtesie was not to be contemned by the greatest, wherefore she inuited her, and her company to rest them in her house, which she said was hard by; and though not worthy of them, yet better then that place.

She took her inuitation, and went for the rest, who straight came, and ac∣companied her to her abiding, which was a faire house moated about, but strong and hansome, Gardens and Orchards within the moate delicate and pleasant, a Bote to goe ouer it into dainty Meades, Woods, and Groues,

so pleasant this place was, and so kind her entertainement, as quickly they a∣greed to her ciuill request, which she seeing the day far passed, made to them, for lying there that night, Musick they had of diuers kinds, and such mirth possessed them, that place hauing euer been blessed with that fortune, as few or none could be melancholy in it, except the Mistris, whom commanding all there, appointed that passion wholly to attend her, who not naturally, but accidentally was the saddest noble Lady in those parts. Dance they did, and al other things that orderly mirth would permit; yet still the Lady walked vp and downe, as if her soule were absent, and the body guided but by a Depu∣ty, who did not so well gouerne. Musalina marked it, for the braue Queene marked little but her selfe, and the glory she tooke in that, she asked the cause; but with much fine and cunning respect, not so finely insinuating her selfe into her, but that she found her, yet meant not to be too curious, wherefore she answered her thus.

Madam, if the cause of my sadnes were worthy to be heard, or knowne by you so perfect a Lady, I would not bee the delayer of the happinesse to that, and my selfe in holding it from you; yet some part, as all, is too long to tire you with all, I will say I loued, and was beloued; I chose, and am forsa∣ken; I loue, and I thinke shall dying say so, and do so: I liued a while nourish∣ed with the bewitching foode of hope, but that hath now left me to the op∣posite partie, Despaire; despaire, the spring of all loue-lost teares, and the Tombe of constant louers, whither I haste as fast, as my ill fortunes can carry me.

By this they were got a prety way from them, and hard by the Moate side where Musalina would lie downe, and heare more of her plaining: then said she; Madam you shall heare some more, by that iudge the rest, for my lippes shall not speake all, though truth of him; I dare not call him any thing, for his name makes me still loue him, and ready to forget all iniuries, and that loue will not let me giue him any curst title; but I went one day a iour∣ney from his house, with a Cosin of his, he not being able to goe with me, his eyes then fild with water, mine as full, hearts being equally stored with loue; words we had few, his being these; Farewell my Deare (said hee) speaking this on my lippes, and carry my heart with thee in thy iourney. I will (said I) both keepe i••, and cherish it, doe the like for mine that I leaue with you: his eyes ••old me hee would; I thanked them with mine, and so parted, not fearing that, which now too strictly holdeth me, but since I neuer will trust man, that when he will can weepe; my soule did at the parting strangely mis∣giue me, that some ill would follow, but I guessed not what, though I con∣fesse a little while before, I had somewhat been touched with care, I wil not call it Iealousie, though 'twas as violent a paine, but how did he seek to cleare himselfe, and satisfie me? I came in once, when they two all alone were sit∣ting on a bed, shee looked angerly, as hauing hindred her, and red with fury, he I thinke with shame, that so I found him, yet I went away, nor did I chal∣lenge him for that, though hee did seeke to make mee thinke no hu••t was meant, or harme vnto our loues; this made mee more suspect, s••spition bred more griefe, the noblier he stroue to giue mee satisfaction, the more I was engaged to belieue, and did at last truly repenting, as if I had erred, and as clearely loued as at first, and as feruently.

Oh what eyes could with freedome looke on him? could any heart hould out against the siege of his alluring sweete beguiling loue? no 'twas impossible, all were created to be made his prey, and hee too pittifull, and so by pitty to receiue, and then to ruine, and such chance befell mee, come now remembrance helpe to molest me in thine owne distresse, and please this Lady with my misery, tell her the sweete, and amorous words hee gaue me, and wonne mee with, when hee did meete mee in that sad fine Groue, the third time my sad eyes were blessed with seeing him, with what finenesse, and yet subtiltie did he expresse sorrow for me, and my passions, yet comfort mee because they were for him? how did hee conquer me with loue, and his respect which I saw so curiously sought for my yeelding loue, yet still preserued mine honor; this made mee so willingly his prisoner, as I tooke care how to expresse it.

What witch-craft lay hidden in those smiles that so inchanted mee? and what power had those instruments sweete speach, more sweete and vn∣refusing conuersation ouer my heart? tell me poore heart, did I take ioy in ought else but his loue? did I not dispise all other things campared with the high rate of his sight? thought I of any happinesse if distant from his presence? did I not thinke the Court a Iayle, whither wee were commit∣ted, till his sight gaue me liberty, with blessednesse in his returne, whose absence if but for the space of one dayes hunting, did shut vp all de∣light in that time from poore mee? did I apparell my selfe but with neglect, if he were not with mee? none but himselfe though a full Court I did behold, (for Madame I haue beene a Courtier,) and if he miss'd I saw none there, and thus much hath he sworne to mee; such was my loue, and is, and being such, far bitterer is the losse.

More the faire Musalina would haue heard, but shee was vnwilling to say more, and therefore shee vrged no more, then went they to the others who were pleasantly talking; Amphilanthus welcomed Musalina, taking her by the hand, and so they sate, the Lady beholding them, thus said she, haue I sate too, once blessed with such like kindnesse, now cast into a hellisher distresse, Musalina tooke occasion againe to heare her speake, shee granted it, and proceeded.

Madame said shee, you neither now haue, nor euer had such happines that mine equalld not, tis I confesse bouldly, but I thinke truely said; What did a Louer in passion euer vowe, and sweare, and after breake, that hee hath not done the like? none ••uer more amorous, none more vnkind.

Haue you not seene him lately said Musalina? yes said shee, I see him of∣ten, but his scorned hath so longe ruld, and I haue with such care, and paines sought to put his neglect, and disdaine (because it was a fault in him) from mee, as now I am in a kinde free, I confesse not altogether, but indifferent∣ly, for I can with lesse violent griefe suffer his louing, and courting others be∣fore my face then at first I could, but yet I had rather mee thinkes still haue those fauours; the beginning of my miserie had truely almost killd mee, and the more greeuous it was when I perceiued hee gloried in my paines, I haue bin about then to call him vngratefull, but my loue stayed my tongue, and yet but like an intermitting Pulce, beat doubly on my heart.

One night especially I was afflicted with it, when I was (••ith his beloued Mistris, who was a greater Lady, though not a more true Louer then I was, (and himself) inuited to a supper; there all he could doe, was to expresse his affection to her, and his scorne to mee, I was in an Agony to see it, my bloud rise, and all my senses were sensible, but of disorder; I sweat with very vexa∣tion, and for all this at our parting, this cruell man smild, and bid mee take heede, I caught no cold. It vexed me to heare that slighting, and before mine enemie, yet my hate turned more on her, whom I was content rather to ac∣cuse in mine owne heart for bewitching him, then consent to truth, or confesse him vugratefull, for I had deserued, and that hee begins to pro∣fesse.

What if hee should sue againe to you (said Musalina) would you not re∣ceiue him? That were vnlikely surely Madam, said she, and I haue studdied so long to bee out of loue, and gaine liberty by forgetting, as I thinke it would bee as hard a thing for mee to loue, or rather trust (for indeede I dare scarce trust my selfe with louing him) as it was to hate, yet so neere I was once to it, that there was scarce the breadth of the finest spunne haire be∣tweene me and that curst humour, but good, fond ignorant, kind disposition came cro••se the way, and so I came no further, then to leaue louing in shew, but neuer could attaine to hate, or to leaue truth in loue; this was, and is my state, take heed braue Lady, trust not too much; for belieue it, the kindest, lo∣uingst, passionatest, worthiest, loueliest, valiantest, sweetest, and best man, will, and must change, not that he, it may bee, doth it purposely, but tis their naturall infirmitie, and cannot be helped. It was laid to our charge in times passed to bee false, and changing, but they who excell vs in all perfections, would not for their honours sake, let vs surpa••se them in any one thing, though that, and now are much more perfect, and excellent in that then wee, so there is nothing left vs, that they excell vs not in, although in our greatest fault.

Amphilanthus heard her, but answered not to it, thinking an ill matter better left then stirred. ••ucenia was touched to the quick with this, yet dis∣sembled it, and so they rose, resoluing to goe thence, the Lady bringing them through the walkes, and ouer the Mote, being the pleasanter way to their Horses and Chariots; but by the way, Musalina againe mooued her to dis∣course, asking her, if it were possible for her to hold any correspondency with that Lady her seruant loued, and left her for. Yes truly Madam, said she, I haue brought my selfe to it; wee doe often meete now adayes together, and hunt together, and eate, and conuerse. Doth she know you loued him, said Musalina.

The whole Country did (said she) and therfore she could not be ignorant; shee knew it Madam, and knew a bracelet of haire shee saw once about mine arme (against my will) to be his, though would haue excused it, by saying, twas my husbands, whose was something of that colour, but as much diffe∣rence betweene them, as betweene silke and woollen.

What satisfaction can she giue you for entertaining him? Embracing and cherishing his affection (answered the Lady) for which I can loue her. Did she neuer vrge any discourse concerning it?

Yes (said shee), and lately tooke occasion to speake, I am sure shee

meant of that, but couer'd it with the third person, an ordinary course in such businesses, and this she said, that so much she could loue a woman friend as if she should be in loue with the same man that shee loued, and had no o∣ther meanes to obtaine, but by her leauing him, she would to doe her a plea∣sure, and ease her torments yeeld him to her, at least leaue him at liberty to take her: I found what she aym'd at, and told her it was a new and an ex∣cellent manner of expressing friendship but I should thinke she seemd a very ignorant woman that would trust in that kind, and should shew more in∣discretion then perfect friendship in trying it, thus she could not catch mee; by this they came to their Chariotts, and so they parted. Musalina asking her, if she had a husband, I had Madam, said shee, which was none of my least afflictions or molestations, then kissing her, the rest likewise tooke leaue and so went on their iourney, the Lady returning to her house, they dire∣cting their Voyage towards the Gulfe, where they shipp'd, and sail'd to∣wards the Island Rocke, the Ladies in their disguises. Musalina an Amazon, the Queene a Persian, but they were hindred a while by an other Ship, the manner was this.

One standing vpon the Hatches, sawe and knew Amphilanthus, who was discoursing with the two braue Ladies, and commending the Queene of Bulgaria for her choice of habit, becomming her so well, as it was a great pitty, he said, she was not sole Lady of those parts, that dressing so well be∣fitting her; she tooke it like her owne conceit, and so as shee loud him bet∣ter for commending her, then for his owne worth, pri••ing her selfe aboue any worldly treasure, which he as finely made sport withall; but this Gentle∣man causd his ship to lye aboard of the other; kneeling down to the King he presented him with letters, then standing vp deliuered these words.

The earths glory, and Italys blessing, famous Amphilanthus, receiue these from your friends, and Allies in Germany, it hath pleased Tyme to giue pe∣riod to the Emperours daies, since whose decease many haue made themselus competitors for the Crowne, but Ollorandus your worthy friend, hauing the greatest stroake in the election, making all the assembly remember your right hath chosen you, and truely Sir not only hee, but all, as soone as you were named gaue an equall consent, as if borne and made of one temper to serue you, hauing iustly chose you to it. Olorandus called me, who haue the honor to bee his kins-man, and in my youth his companion, but more ho∣nourd mee in the Ambassage to bring this newes vnto you, with all inioyns you by the loue betweene you two, not to refuse this gift, and Crowne; he told me where I should finde you, and according to his directious I haue ordered my course, he feares the former made vow will carry you to the per∣formance of that; if so, he assures you he will hold the Empire safe for you till you come, and therefore himselfe will not aduenture the inchantment, but if loue doe not ouer-rule, he could wish you to leaue all vaine attempts, and come to Prague where he will attend you, and so waite on you to your Coronation, if otherwise, you shall be secure, and hee your humble seruant, and loyall friend; my selfe Sir, am fortunate to bee commanded in this ser∣uice to you, whom aboue all men, I most honour, your owne true vertue causd that respect in me.

Then did the King with much kindnesse vse the Prince of Transiluania,

who he vnderstood this Embassador to be, by the letters he brought, hee ac∣cepted the Crowne, but with a little nicenesse, professing himselfe not to bee capable of such a dignity; but in conclusion, his answers being but comple∣ments, he tooke the title giuen him, and gloried in nothing more, then that he was so contentedly, and without one opposite voice chosen, onely he desired to be permitted to conclude his first vow, which finished, he would repaire into Germany, and to that end dispatched the Prince of Transiluania againe, telling him, that loue it was true did force him to this attempt, but what loue was it, except the desire he had to constant truth in holding vowes, and be∣sides, to haue those famous Princes his friends, and Allies that were there in∣closed, to accompany him in his iourney, for his greater honour, and the glo∣rie to the Empire. This satisfied the Prince, and so with letters of credence, acceptation, and promise of his presence, hee returned a happy man; and so had those parts reason to esteeme the like happinesse, when the excellent Amphilanthus was to rule ouerthem, who proceeded in his enterprise, and landed on the Rocke, passing directly to the Theater, which opened to them, and as he was the man most louing, and best beloued, so was part of the Charme ended, al at his comming receiuing their best senses, like their owne cloaths about them, they ranne to welcome him, and begann to be ashamd of their follies for being in disguise: but shee, whose minde knew onely truth, rose likewise to salute him, and with such loyall loue as ioy of his sight sprang like spring time in her face, before pale and Winter-like in sorrow. He complementally saluted her, heeding none, but with ciuility vsed all, and her little kindlier, though more respectiuely then the rest; then againe they tooke their places being brought into a worse Charme then the first, be∣ca••se now they perfectly saw and knew, misery to them that were subiects to it, and such did Pamphilia feele, who returning to the seate, she had before sate in, not only as she did alone, but viewed by all to be so. They infinitely wished for the finall end, and she for hers; directly before her sat Musalina, and the halfe fulfiller of the Aduenture, a sad spectacle, but she must and did indure it, though how, with such vnquietnesse, affliction, and multitudes of teares as what succeeded? losse of so much beauty, as made many haue cause (I meane slight louers) to see her lesse amiable, then lesse loue-worthy, and so she was left, and this is the truth of mans affection, yet did hee not i∣magine, or rather would not consider this was caused by his leauing her, she poore Lady beholding nothing but affliction, and making her selfe the true subiect to it, yet did shee not, nor would accuse him, who was altogether so faulty as condemnd to be, though more then she deserued vnkind. Next to Amphilanthus sate the Queene of Bulgaria, and by her, her husband who arriued there iust at their landing, glad without expression to see her, her seruant likewise of Iamboli came thither the next day, and according to the manner sat downe on her other side betweene Amphilanthus and her selfe, she would not, or might not, it may be, shew too much kindnesse to her beloued in his presence, who though he were as louing a Husband as any, yet his loue was mixed with discreete care ouer her actions, and the more discre∣tion she was bound to vse; she was not displeased to haue her seruant sit by her, and because he should haue no reason to remooue, shee still itcht neerer her husband, holding him by the hand, which he took to be done out of p••r∣perfect

or fond loue, while her head was prettily toss'd first to one side, then to an other, as if she were choosing a looking-glasse, betweene two, which to haue, wherein she might see her faire follies best, yet if euer prid were to be commended, it was there to be esteemed, for certainely that held her vertuous, and so by that meanes one of the greatest sinnes grew like a ver∣tue, but no neerer being one, then the shadow of the purest Lilley in the water, is one; neither hauing colour or sweetenesse of the Lilley, only shape but blacke, and nothing of it selfe: no more good is in pride, but as it is some∣times, and here, especially vsed, for a shadowed vertue. Ollorandus when Amphilanthus resolud to aduenture this place, did likewise thinke to doe so too, for such a friend he was, as he imployd himselfe wholly to be his imi∣tator, & then did he best in his own opinion, when he did any thing, or said any thing, like Amphilanthus; but yet he kept an vnuiolable affection to his Melysinda, whō he went to fetch to the aduenture, but as he went, he met the newes of the Emperours death, which hastned him home faster if it could be, or if wings can be giuen of more speed then those of loue with which hee flew, yet hee had the fortune that trauelling Princes haue, for this chanced to him.

A Gentleman he met all in mourning, his face more expressing it then his cloathes, though in the exactest fashion for shape, and blacknes: armes he had none, but his owne armes foulded within each other, his hat downe in his eyes, his pace slow, his sighs many, his teares had spent themselues so liberally before, as now he had none left to shed, the spring dry, and stop'd with heauy sorrow, his speech when vrg'd by Ollorandus to speak, was as if frozen, and only melted, or thawed by good manners to giue answere, though but no deeper the thawe peirced then to make a little moistnes to freeze the harder on it, for so few was his words, and so long before gain'd, as it was almost like a hope of great content a louer promiseth himselfe when he thinkes, after a long absence he shall enioy his loues sight a whole day, when that day comes his fed imagination, in conceit is so soone made to sterue againe with the speedy passing of that time, as it is worse then if not had, and indeed scarce is it had, because the expectation so much excells the enioying: so did the King in this, for when he had got him to answere once, he prouoked him with such discourse, as he thought should procure a large scope of replye, but he only looked on him, sigh'd, & cry'd; I am the perfect scorne of fortune, what neede I, or can I say more? The Bohemian would not thus be satisfied, but stil vrged, the Gentleman stood still bare-headed in respect to him, but more words hee got not of him for a great space, at last fearing that too great inciuility would bee layed to his charge, hee thus spake. Sir said hee, what offence haue I giuen you, that you should seeke this reuenge on mee, to make mee wound my selfe with my owne mi∣series relation? Alasse, consider when misfortune is befalne on, how doth euery one that loues him striue to keepe his discourse from his friends eares, if hearing bee painefull? what is the telling it when the soule euery word that is spoken feeles torment? insencible tasting the harme, knowing euery corner of it, as an Architecture doth in the framed building his imagination casteth: yet seeing their satisfaction can be ob∣tained but by this, I will speake what I am loath any but my owne heart

should know, out of two reasons being so deare to me; one, because my dea∣rest deare was the Actor; the other, that the fulnesse of the griefe stor'd vp, might choake and kill my heart, and so send me to her; but your importunity hath preuaild, and I haue now set open the two gates of my silence to the ruine, the enemy speech will bring to my soule.

I was borne to honour and dignity; wealth, and what men most esteeme, I had plenty of; I was fauoured by the King, imploy'd by his Maiesty in of∣fice and command; but what did I gouerne, when I was ouerrul'd by loue? A Lady I affected, she loued me, and spar'd not to giue me all testimonies of it; another sought me, I grew proud of it, and accepted her affection like∣wise; the former saw it, wept to me, and tax'd me for it, I protested against it, and yet was guilty: shee at last (by my vnpardonable offence) being cer∣taine of it, for I neglected her; this second I doted on, bewitch'd by her charmes, she onely had power ouer me, shee could onely make mee doe any thing: I left the Court almost for her, neuer thinking my selfe at rest, but when I was with her; businesses were tedious to me, sought before by mee, for I did loue imployment till I imployed my selfe so ill, as to bee her ser∣uant•• shee, as I thought, as fond of mee, I ioyed in that, and to satisfie her, left all the world vnsatisfied of me, and as many to scorne my weaknesse, as in former time admir'd and loued my readinesse; my poore true loue liu'd this while disdaind, forsaken, and almost contemn'd, more wretched crea∣ture I, who was ordain'd to doe that ill to spoyle my selfe with all. In this time of my blindnesse another got my place in my masters brest growing so powerfull and dangerous, as I was forced to oppose him; for hee spared none to worke his owne ends on: I was vnfortunate in that likewise; for then was hee so mighty, and besides so ill, as hee forgetting all but himselfe brought many into the Kings displeasure. I repin'd at that, and seeing at last no remedy, tooke armes with many other, my friends, but too weake wee were, and I taken by composition in mine owne Castle, yeelding on condition all the rest should bee spard, that was granted, and I alone carried to the Prison the greatest Traytors are carried vnto, being called the Kings Prison, there I lay ten dayes till euery thing was ready for my arraignment, then was I brought forth, and after by the great men condemn'd. I could not say they did vniustly; for a subiect ought not vpon any termes to weare armes against his rightfull King: I was contented with the censure, setled my selfe to dye, and was grieued for nothing but that I should not kisse my loue before my death. The night before my appointed execution, when I was meditating on my end, my Keeper came vnto me, and with teares told me the compassion he had of my estate; I desired him to forbeare putting me into thoughts that might withdraw me frō those more necessary & befitting me at that time. He would not (as hauing a furder purpose) giue ouer, but pro∣ceeded till at last I found by him he had some plot for my deliuery: then I was more troubled between two doubts, one of the truth of this thing, whe∣ther it were for my good, or only a trap to take me in, & so to make my death more terrible & ignoble, when ioyed with feare & basestealing a life, or if he meant really, how it might be effected. These cōtrarieties put me into a great perplexity; yet I stil held conuenient discourse with him, who finding me vn∣certaine in my answers, and suspitious of my selfe, brake out in these termes••

I see, my Lord, my fortune to be so ill, as you (whom I most desire to serue) mistrust me; alas, if loue moou'd mee not, what plot should I haue to put my selfe into so eminent a danger? it is onely that hath wrought mee to this, and yet I am mistrusted by you. I sought to appease his passion, he then went on: I haue, my Lord said he, layd the way, and a youth of my acquaintance stayes below with the cords, shall (if you please) deliuer you from death and this place, it is more then time wee were about it, there∣fore resolue what you will doe, and that speedily.

I, hearing this, and looking on a clocke was in my chamber, found it past midnight, straight led by a bold beliefe, gaue consent to goe vp and downe at all houres, went forth, telling the watch hee was sent for a Gowne for mee to weare the next day at my death; vnder colour of this, within a long robe hee brought the ropes, which hee fastened to the barres of the windowes, which were not so thicke placed, but one might easily get out; the reason was the heighth made the feare of getting thence nothing: At the bottome stood the youth hee spake of, and made the lower ends fast; out hee went, first to shew mee the way and try if the cordes were fast, then came vp againe and helpd mee forth, staying till I was safely on the ground, then vntyed the cordes, and the youth loosed them below, so hee drew them vp, and in a fire in my chamber burn'd them, shutting the win∣dow, and himselfe comming downe the ordinary way againe without suspi∣tion: to any Gate hee du••st not bring mee, for they were all so strongly guarded, as no safety would be there; but, knowing all the passages, brought mee to a little Garden then vpon the wall, and there was a Posterne doore low, and little, but bigge enough; but then another danger was how to goe downe on the outside, the Castle standing on a maine Rocke; but the dan∣ger wee soone passed, for with some scrambling wee got downe holding by one another; the youth, though weake, yet hauing a strong heart to saue mee, help'd beyond expectation: this man, my keeper, had a brother dwelt hard by this place, thither he led vs, and telling his brother hee was sent of earnest busines concerning the State, got horses of him, and so wee posted, the youth riding behinde me, holding me with so much affection as I ima∣gin'd it had beene his care for feare of slipping, but I iniur'd him in that, for his worthy selfe could neuer slip.

Wee rid thus, till wee arriu'd at a Castle of mine; but that not being of strength sufficient, wee left it, and our wearied horses, furnishing our selues better: the youth rid well, and I was carefull, though hee still besought mee to heede my safety, hee weary, as weake, his horse being little lesse, they fell, wherein hee was hurt; but at last hee sure wounded and tyred, I pittied him, and more, when I saw his teares, which were not for his ap∣proching end, as after I saw, letting some from mee to accompany his: hee seeing them, my Lord, said hee, weepe not for mee, nor shed those deare teares for one who once might haue had a life giuen by one of them; but those dayes are passed, and now my ending as fast as may bee, the bruise and death this fall brings mee, not being yet so cruell to mee as the fall of your fauour was; nor vnwelcome, since chanced to mee in your succour, I am to tell now the cause of my seruice: Loue (my Lord) hath brought me to this, and all other miseries, your scorne neuer hauing had

power sufficient to make mee leaue louing you which procur'd this action, censure me then a louer and not immodest, no disguise could euer disguise me, but still I lou'd you, nor put I any on but for your good, and so for∣ced to alter my habits, what haue I taken but habits of the much worthier Sexe? the noblier to serue you, not out of any wantonnesse, which hea∣uen can witnesse•• for had I ecaped this harme and you once safe, you should not haue knowne mee but as a poore youth affectionate to your safe∣ty, I would againe haue returned after the time of your imprisonment; I tooke this resolution, putting my selfe to waite on one of the guard, and neuer left prying vp and downe to finde how I might assist you, till happy fortune brought me to this man, whose affection I saw such towards you, as I ventur'd, and hee likewise to attempt what now I ioy to see perform'd; and more, that my end is brought by so louing an occasion: farewell my Lord, and I beseech you mourne not for mee, whom you thought so little worthy of your loue; couer any fault in this I haue committed, with the vaile of feruent affection; then shall I bee secure, and you noble. Weepe not (deare Lord) for mee, I must bee gone, and in going shall bee molested to see you sorrow for mee; bury mee, I beseech you, not heere, but in some of your owne commands, that as I am yours, my dust may bee also held in your ground; and then, lest you shall grieue for mee, I can now giue you leaue to forget mee; then did shee faint, for this was my first and truest Loue.

I got her with much paine againe to life; shee blam'd mee for it, yet told mee, such kindnesse had preserued vs both if timely giuen: then with ma∣ny prayers for my safety, wishing all the blessing that heauen granted to any, to bee powred on me, shee dyed in mine armes, breathing her last into my breast; for I kiss'd her when her breath left her.

I buried her, as she desir'd, at a Castle of mine, whither we rid that night, and there remained till my peace was made with the King, which hee was willing to, and honour'd me so much, as I had satisfaction o•• my enemy; but what was this to my losse, hauing lost the wonder of her Sexe for loyalty? Besides, my second Lady, for whom I had left the faire patterne of vertuous loue, did shew me my ill by requiting me according to my merit; but not from her, for of her I had deserued well, she neuer sent to me, neuer seem'd, as I heard by all, sorry for me, but superficially, quickly chose another, and like the worst of her Sexe, thought sorrow would hurt her complexion, and so she might liue vnlou'd, grew merry, and thought no more of me, though at the first she wept; but why? onely to shew how sweetly shee could looke in teares, not shedding more then became her, & were safe from hurting her; though euery one, because they were hers, had, if seene, wounded mee. When I came abroad againe with my pardon and the Kings fauour, I met her; shee, as not guilty, cheerefully and smilingly saluted mee: but I that could leaue the worthiest for her without a cause, could iustly bee offended; so as I spake not to her, nor since haue looked on her, truely hating her very sight, and in these habits haue I continued, in this place doe I liue this life, if a life you will call it; yonder is the Castle shee lies buried in, with whom I haue buried all content, and with whom I will also lye, the Court I haue left, and all company, ioying in nothing but my misery, and this I neuer rela∣ted

before, nor haue I spoken so many words since I first suffered this vn∣happines, nor will any more: therefore Sir now I beseech you permit mee to bee silent, and to passe to my dying liuing. The King, who was a per∣fect louer, could not but lament with him, and sorrow that so they should part; but necessity compell'd, and he granted his demaund: the sad man going in his wonted mauer, and the King holding his iourney, still think∣ing and musing of this aduenture, till another put him out of it and brought him to a little more mirth: A dainty young wench came led betweene two hansome young men, one browne and louely, the other faire and beautifull, many Lads and Lasses attending them, some carrying flowers, others Gar∣lands, some fruite, some wine, euery one hauing something to doe, and ex∣treame busie in that businesse, because it was loue.

When they saw Ollorandus they ran to him and desired him to alight; for hee was by the agreement to giue iudgement and end to this aduenture: hee wondred why they had chosen him, they said it was to be finished by the next Knight they met, and that was himselfe; then they set a kinde of Chayre vp, which they carried with them, hauing ioynts, and with engines to bee placed any where, ouer his head they hung the flowers and gar∣lands, except one that was held for him to whom the prize was giuen; the grownd they also strewed with flowers. Ollorandus sate still, admiring what they would do with him, smiling within himselfe to thinke what Am∣philanthus would iudge of him, if hee should finde him thus attended and set vp so like a May-game Lord; but patiently he suffer'd them: When they had done, the Speaker appointed, which was hee that held the Garland, began thus.

Excellent Iudge may it please you to vnderstand, this businesse consists of diuers matters, yet all the matter is loue; a thing possessing all, a vaine pas∣sion afflicting most; and yet this Gentleman M. Loue hath no abiding, but a meere run away when hee hath done mischiefe, and if followed, where is hee found but i•• hearts? and there such straying harbours hee hath, as hee is fortified euen with strength against the masters of them. This youth who will neuer bee old, hath wounded these two youths with one arrow, for they loue this Lasse: her hee hath wounded; but it seemes louing wo∣men better then men hath taken more paines with her, and bestowed two of her, for she loues them both; not being able to say whether she affecteth most: it is no strange thing for a woman to loue two or many; but the rare∣nesse is that one of that nimble louing kinde, cannot take both and vse them after her own phantasie: to say women can loue often is no wrong to them; for who would not please themselues? and what greater pleasure then va∣riety? Is it possible for one to bee contented to liue his whole life in one roome, to heare but one speake, to conuerse but with one, to feede but on one thought: if this bee hard, where is womens fault that de∣lighteth her selfe with change of Louers? being but for that whereto wee were borne to seeke our owne happinesse, and surely in that are they most happy; for variety is their seruant, waiting on them so di∣ligently, and so cherished by them, as they are the excellent Mi∣strisses of that excelling pleasure: To proue this Sir, heere is a dain∣ty example in a dainty subiect; rare in all parts, because rarest in it selfe,

here is a woman loues so equally, as shee cannot chuse betweene these, if beauty want in one, louelinesse chalengeth her liking; if beauty abound in the one, sweetnes speakes for the other, she loues both, and so much as shee wishes (if it were not for extreame losse) they were but one, and then shee could satisfie her selfe, and that one; her's yet a greater wonder, these two Riuals are friends, not to say friends as not being enemies, but affectionate friends, and such as it is almost hard for either of them to tell whether hee loues her or his friend better, yet both are enamoured of her; This hath continued two yeeres: now it is agreed on that the matter shall be iudged by the f••rst Knight, you Sir are the man, and to whom you giue her she shall be contented with him, and leaue the other. Ollorandus made answere that the matter was nice, and a busines he no way desired to meddle in lest hee might offend, not being able to iudge to please all parties, but hee thought that such mutuall affections were better held s••••ll as they were, lest diuision might diuide the perfect loue betweene those friends; for said hee, a wound giu••n in the arme, or body will heale, and grow together if the sides be kept close, but kept open, it will (though heale) yet be in sundry parts; So if shee be gi••en to one, and from the other, it will breede a diuision in loue, if not still to be as at first enioyed, They all then spake and desired iudgement, being resolute to stand to his censure, Then must I said Ollorandus require one thing more for my perfecter ability, you must each of you speake for your selues, and tell what you can claime to merit her, and what proofes you can alleadge of her affections to you, and she must likewise tell her opi∣nion, they consented, and the fairer youth beganne thus. As I was one day after hunting somewhat hott, and weary, hauing laide my selfe vpon the grasse vnder a larger Oake, this beloued soule came tripping with such dain∣tines and sweete carelesnes, as I was surprised with her finenes; she cast her eyes on me, but so, as if chance, not purpose of fauour had procured mee that grace, but howsoeuer, as dearely was her looke prized by me, and my eyes as gladly met hers, as in old time the Gentiles held, the Sunne did kisse the lippes of Osiris; she held her course, I rose, and followed her, shee tur∣ned, and started a litle like a fearefull dainty Deere, and my deere she pro∣ued, I tooke occasion to offer her my seruice seeing her alone least any rude∣nes might be offered, she accepted it, and so I attended her home, she than∣ked me, I tooke those thankes so kindly, as they bound mee I told her to waite on her aft••r to deserue the fauour, not then hauing merited so much. She disliked not of it, but welcommed me till she robb'd mee wholly of my, heart, and then was I forced in good nature to goe still to visit that which I had kept close, and vntouched till that time in my breast, cherished I thinke of purpose to make the perfecter, and purer sacrifice of it vnto her loue. Then grewe we much more familiar, till at last I found I was her friend, for she trusted me, and I was not curious to giue her meanes to let her see I had confidence in her; then would she ride, and sometimes as the seasons were, goe a hunting, and made me beleeue she loued that sport for me. I was apt enough to credit any thing that pleased me, and so I turned a very Nouice in loue, and a blab to my fortunes, for I could not he contented with my happinesse, being nothing me thought, if onely by my selfe enioyed, and that it were not likewise knowne to some friend of mine, who with mee might

likewise reioyce. What were the stolen and sweet delights we had, if a third did not also heare of them, and the discourse make the memory as deere as the sweete obtaining? ioy for enioying at the instant is so full as wraps vp all sense in content, but absent a litle the consideration comes, and presents these blessings so perfectly before our eyes, as then is the enioying of what with blisse was before gained; to giue my selfe likewise this con∣tentment I discouer'd all these passages to this my friend, hee at first smiled at my follies as he call'd them, being free from passion. I was tormented to see his dulnes, and could haue chid my selfe for bestowing so many passio∣nate expressions, and pleasing discourses on him, at last he desired to see the Tree from whence these louing branches grew. I brought him into a groue, where I intreated him to lye close and not stirre vpon any occasion, hee did so, then came my Mistris, and my selfe alone together, and properly may I say alone, for we were but ••ne, though like two staulkes, or flowers of one roote. We sate downe, we kissed, and he beheld vs so well contented, as he did wish himselfe the like, and I thinke the same fortune, which wish he after gained; when he saw me take her hand and play with it, Oh said he that I might but doe so while hee may haue her lippes to doe him a pleasure, I was as familiar with her as modestly I might, I intreated to see her legge, she refused not, he being iust before vs saw it too, then did his loue increase, while I ignorantly and foolishly stroue to make him see excellencies to robb my selfe of them, yet he very discreetly couered his passion a pretty while, still commending her, and so cunningly working into me, as I brought him like mine heire to see my possessions; she beholding him louely, and so win∣ning, as he fail'd not to win her, she as crafty as a woman ought to be that will deceiue, made much of him for my sake, and as my friend did make shew of kindnes to him, I tooke it so, and this tyde me doubly to her. What I thought would please her I studied and obtained, she commended Songs, I am no Poet, but my friend is excellent, said I, then did I desire him to say some of his owne Verses, he did so, shee desired to heare more, hee still did please her so, and at last made some to her, telling me he made them as from me, and I most innocently gaue them to her, and still did make him say them, sounding sure farre sweeter in his mouth then any others. Her heart being changed, or changing, but craftely she grewe more fond of me, and so as I was me thought then too happy; strangely her loue grewe to him, and so violent, as he must either yeeld or be vnkind, an odde occasion offered to trye friendship, but loue aboue all must haue rule or wrong euer, he loued as much as shee, shee loued as much as I, we both loued her, shee loued vs both, yet long acquaintance, and conuersation hauing rooted affection twixt vs two, would not allow so foule a treason in a friend, wherefore he told me of it, and withall confessed how much he loued her, yet said hee I will leaue what I loue, and may obtaine, rather then my truth to you. I loued his faith so much, and prized his worth so farre beyond my owne particu∣lar, as I did freely condescend to his enioying her if she would yeeld; alasse, she had done so in her heart long before, and now with gladnes did em∣brace his loue, but still she held me on, and with as much delight accepted me as euer. We had both what we desired, and she was free to both, at last we spake but in the third person before her of such a woman, she discoursed

as we did, & concluded as we did, that one woman might loue two men law∣fully, and constantlier then one, and that it were much safer for a man to haue his friend his Riuall then to be alone. From this we came to particu∣lars, and so we were agreed, and then most friendly did continue louing, but lately we desired to haue our loues each onely to himselfe, for a litle suspi∣tion is fallen between vs that she doth not so equally carry her loue as here∣tofore, yet we will not fall out, but haue put it to iudgement, both resolued to stand to the doome shalbe giuen vs, and the other to leaue her for euer to his friend if he can keepe her so, he that hath her giuen to him shall haue this Garland with her as the triumph gained, she cannot her selfe decide the bu∣sinesse, her equall affection she sayes is the cause, but I beleeue she is still wil∣ling to hold both, now Sir you see what my loue was, and the beginning, the middle, and almost the end, the other then with a pretty sweetnes beganne. Sir, said he, my friend and Riual hath truely related to you most part of our loues, he was the cause of my affection, and my loue-tye continues as firme to him as euer; 'tis true I fel in loue after him, and by his bringing me, but 'twas his fault, for he told me his blessing with such feeling as me thought he took paines to teach me to seek the like, and how nearer could I come to the like∣n••s, then to the same, like might faile therefore because my friend should see no error in my choice, or carriage of my loue, but to appeare as cleare vnto his eies of iudgement as before when he made me his friend, I chose as he did lou'd as he did, and with her consent & his, enioyed as he did, the wonder of this businesse consisting in this, but herein is no strangenes as I coniecture, for we were so directly one in friendship, as we were but one, and therefore though she had vs both, she had but one, so excellent a woman louer she also is, as she can bring her eyes, and heart to looke on both as one, and one as both. I was against this I confesse in other times, but now thinke no such loue as when we may discourse of it, and in our discourse know how she be∣haues her selfe, and so be able to discouer which she most affects, and so striue to gaine the others part: but she most louing, most discreet, iudicially carri∣ed her hand euenly, when he kissed one, I had the other, shee fa••e betweene vs still, and euer gaue vs euen and indifferent graces, but now being cloyde I thinke with this blessing we must diuide, and she take one which she cannot doe, therefore Sir, you must decide the question, shee sayes she will take ei∣ther with equall loue, we will with equall content take or misse. She then was to say something for her selfe, who thus did speake. My Lord said she, you heare by these two the story related of my loue. I cannot but confesse it is true, onely I beseech you not to thinke any lightnesse was more in these a••••ections then in the indifference of my choice, I loued this faire man I con∣fesse first, I had not then seene the other, but when I perceiued his louelines, beauty me thought was more ordinary, and therefore I prized him dearer, but when the faire youth came againe, brownnes appeared nothing so plea∣sing, both together mee thought they were both fit to be beloued, and the rather both, because different complexions would hold one still to loue one of them; wh••n affection to sw••etnesse and delicatenesse possessed me I loo∣ked on him, when loue to fairenes, and whitenes claymed place, I turned to the other, thus mee thinkes I loued equally, and so it was but one loue be∣ing still to one end, content and to be contented w••th those had made them∣selues

one in all things, euen loue to me. It is most true, I am now brought to choose one, for my father will haue me marry, I cannot find in my heart to refuse either, or haue power to choose whether, I hope this freedome which hath continued with vs will not be a cause now to make mee lesse e∣steemed, my loue is the same it was, and therefore Sir, which you will allot me to I must take.

The first then spake againe, doe not (great Iudge) I beseech you fauour me, although I first did tell my tale, and first did loue, to wrong my friend, hee more deserues her then my selfe, and him she chose, I did choose her, there∣fore bestowe her Sir on him. No said the other, I lou'd her for your sake, and loue to you made my affection grow to her; therefore Sir, as hee first did loue, and chose for loues sake onely of her selfe, be not so cruell to be∣stow her from him, he most, and best deserues her, let him haue her. This while she cast her eyes between them as they spake so amorously, as it seem'd she cryd within her selfe, sweet Iudge, adiudge mee both; hee sate a while still, at last, he brought forth this iudgement.

Both louing, both beloued, treason it were to part such blessednes, nor am I able to cut so euenly by a threed, as to goe iust in the middle way between these affections: to giue her to either, I can hardly doe it, since they beg for either; You faire indifferent creatures, are not it seemes to bee displea∣sed, nor will I offend either, therefore this shall be my iudgement. Take the Garland, and you who hold it now, tye her scarfe ouer her eyes, then both shall come at once to you, and to which you giue the Garland hee shall bee your husband, blinde Loue made this equality, blinde fortune is onely fit to decide it. She tooke the Garland, when the other two both at once kneeld to the Iudge, and at once spake these words all one, and so iustly deliuer'd, as shewed their hearts one, beseeching him, that since the Garland did so well in her hand, she might keepe it still, and crowne her selfe as Lady of the oddest passion, they would as before passionatly louing, equally leaue her, and now faire Mayde said they, to auoid your trouble in choyce, or after choosing, we will both leaue you; seeke and take a third, and crowne him with a single loue if you can.

Ollorandus liked the oddnes of this best of all, she blush'd and faine would haue spoken, but they went away, and left her like all-changing women to glory in her owne folly, or to couer her selfe with her owne shame, yet shee ••ooke a changers boldnesse on her. My Lord, said she, I humbly thanke you for your iudgement, and your noble care of me, I am no more troubled with their leauing, then I should haue ioyed in hauing them; onely I am sor∣ry that you must be a witnesse, that the fault lyes on your sexe, when you come (if euer) againe to censure Louers, be more pittifull to vs, and this is all, I liu'd before I loued them, and shall (I trust) liue, and loue againe with∣out them: So they parted, Ollorandus hauing had sport for his paines in sit∣ting so long, and the standers by satisfied with vncertainty, and so all par∣t••d: The King towards Prague, he met his Melysinda three daies iourney neerer, hauing knowledge of his comming, by the messenger that brought him the newes of the Emperours death.

Then they together went to that ancient braue City, thence to a place where all the Princes by a generall consent met, and chose Amphilanthus

their Emperour, who by being King of the Romanes might claime it; not one voice was against him, but all like one cracke of Thunder sounded his name.

Then was the Prince of Transiluania dispatched to him, who met him as is before said, and returnd with the answere, whereupon Ollorandus was his Deputy till his arriuall, which was not long after: the fine Nimph, and de∣licate Veralinda liued together this time, passing the heate of the day at the Fountaine, and in the shadow, the rest abroad, neuer weary of any time but night, which they accused of too great cruelty in holding thē asunder, which faire Veralinda often would haue helped in her wish, but her Father would not permit it. One day as shee was sitting alone, expecting her deare com∣panion, the graue Shepherd, her Father, came vnto her, and looking steedily on her, wept; she was amazed, and sweetest soule weept too, to see his teares; he then embracing her, my dearer heart (said he) I must leaue thee, and this makes my teares.

Alas Sir (said shee) let mee neuer see that day, or heare those bitter words againe. It is most true, said he, I am commanded and I must obey, the God that gaue mee thee, appointeth this, grieue not for this, it will (I hope) bee for eternall ioy to you. I am warned in my sleepe to send you hence vnto an Island, where you shall be blessed with happiest successe, goe then and take this Cabinet with you, but open not the Boxe vntill the aduen∣ture you shall see be ended, then open it, and remember me. She was amazd but he did comfort her. How shall I goe, said shee, alone vnguided? Will you cast me out? Haue I deserued so ill, thus to be throwne away? O Fa∣ther, keepe me with you, or else let me stay but by you, that I may but see your face, and therein shall I be most blessed. Alas sweet, and deare Veralinda, I must not agree to thy demand, but yet beleeue me, you will not repent, a∣lone you need not goe, you shall haue seruants who you will, besides, the Nimph will goe with you, she met me now, and I acquainted her, and shee is gone a litle hence, to send the Shepheard, her deare friend, to prouide hor∣ses for you; now lament no more, nor grieue to see my teares which are to part with you, not that they can fortell least harme to you, but losse to me of your loued sight. Veralinda w••pt againe, other faire Shepherdesses came, but none of them sh•• would so farre grace as to tell her fortune to, saue onely to Melantha the same Lasse the Shepheard lou'd. Shee straight resolu'd to leaue Archadia and all else, to goe with her, so this concluded, they staid in the Groue till fine Leonia, and the Shepheard came, with whom they went away, and straite to Corinth tooke their iourney, there they Shipp'd, and passd vnto the Rocke, where landing, she went to the Theater, and looking vp she read the words, Leonia reading in her eyes, at that instant the Gate o∣pened, but with such Musicke as amazed them all, as wel those at the entring, as the troopes within, all they at that time falling into a sweet slumber with the delicacie of the charming Musicke. Leonia went in with her, and passed along viewing each one, and knowing most, pittying some, and grieuing for their Fates, not knowing what should come when Apollo appear'd, comman∣ding Veralinda to touch them with a rod he threw her down; she did so when they all awaked, and held each one his louer by the hand, then stood they vp, and as amazed gazed on the Shepherdesse, and Nimph. Amphilanthus at

his waking tooke Musalinas hand, but quickly let it goe againe. Pamphi∣lia rose, and Leandrus from her feete, but touched her not, though gazed on her face, Musalina did the like on Amphilanthus. When this was done, and all the couples stood round as the roome was, suddenly the Chaires were va∣nished, and a Pillar of Gold stood in their stead, on which hung a Booke, eue∣ry one there stroue to take that down, but none could gaine it; Pamphilia and Vrania came, they both resolued to try, but the first place was giuen by their consents vnto Vrania, who tooke it downe, wherewith the inchantment part∣ly ended as the Musique and charme, but the house remayning and the Pillar of Gold, as memory of the brauest inchantment that inclosed the number of the worthiest the world did euer know. The Booke Amphilanthus tooke and tryed to open, but though Vrania had got it, she must haue Veralindas help to open it, which being lent her she got, the house then vanished, & they found in the Booke the whole story of Vrania, and how that after shee was stollen by the Duke as before was confessed by himselfe, and then from him by rob∣bers.

This wise man who had made this inchantment preserued her, tooke her from those robbers, left the purse and mantle with her to be the meanes for those that took her vp to cherish her, & then being Lord of this Island, fra¦med this inchantment, whither he knew she should come and giue part of the conclusion to it, & so appeare fit to deserue his care, which she might thanke him for; the next story was of Veralinda, which was this. The King of Fri∣gia had many children by his first wife, then married he againe, and by his second onely had one daughter, whose natiuity being cast, it was found shee should rule a great people, and weare a Crowne; this made doubt that she should gouerne ouer that Kingdome, that bred iealousie, & iealousie hate, so as her brothers when she suck'd, laid a plot to destroy her, & brib'd a seruant of theirs to kil the Infant. He vndertook it, but was preuented likewise by the same diuine power Vrania was protected by, for he that should haue mur∣ther'd her, onely tooke her from her Nurse, whom he had enticed forth into a wood to walke, there he left her bound & muffl'd that she could not speake, and so fled with the Babe vnto the Sea shipping himselfe, and with the re∣ward he had for the supposed act, he desyring to haue it before hand, that he neede not tarry after the execution, hee got into Morea, and so into Arcadia, warned in a dreame to doe so; for the Kings Shepheard hee in∣quired, and to him gaue the childe, which hee (hauing no childe) willing∣ly tooke, all things agreeing so well, as plainely shewed the diuine proui∣dence ordained it. Hee bred her vp vntill that time that hee was also in his ••leepe appointed to send her thence to the Island, the Lord of this Island a learned man knewe all this, and made the delicate aduenture for her discouery, and the tryall of loue. When this was discouered, all they that before enuied, and almost hated her, who appearing meane, had the power they wanted, came and saluted her; the Nimph knowing her to bee a Princesse likewise came, and with a pretty blush discouered him∣selfe, shewing that hee was ashamed of his habite, and yet that habite became that blush. Amphilanthus was glad to heare that his brother hadde shewed his valour vpon so cruell a Beast, and in the defences of so excellent a creature, but could haue chid him els for disguising him∣selfe,

had not Loue, and as hee saw Destiny appointed it so; but Leonius in his mans habits, againe came with more feare to Veralinda then before, to whom he spake in this manner.

Fairest Princesse, I hope your estate will not make you forget the estate you liued in loue, I am the Knight you loued as a Knight, I am the man, who for feare you lou'd me not, to moue your loue made my selfe a woman, and the same man that loues if you cheerish, ••lse dies if you forsake. I am (my Lord) said shee, the woman that loues you as much, or more, if possible, then I did, hauing so many more bonds to tye me vnto it; my life I owe you, I will pay it you, by spending it in being yours, and now I know my selfe to be a Princesse, the freelyer will I say this, being the fitter for you; then opened she the Cabinet wherein she found a writing in the Shepherds hand, made betweene him and the other who should haue kild her, therein had she conditioned, that he should bring her vp most carefully, call her Ve∣ralinda, not to discouer this secret to her, but wh••n shee was to l••aue the place, not to suffer her to marry any but a Prince. Th••se conditions he kept, and so gaue her the Cabinet, the Nimph he knew made to confesse himselfe to him, out of care of her, and then he consented to the iourney, thus was she preserued and in her true loue had a faire dwelling.

Pamphilia was glad of her being her neighbour by Pamphilia, and glader her Cousen should haue such a fortune, for now they knew her to bee heire, for her brothers hauing enuy more abounding then good nature, fell out, first with their mother in law, then with one another, lastly with their Fa∣ther, tooke armes against him, imprisoned him, then in two battailes one against another, some taking part with the Father, they were all kill'd, the old man outliuing them, and shame him, grieuing that he was their Father, though their faults were nothing a kinne to him, for he was vertuous.

The Lord of the Island, a graue old man, came to the royall company, to euery one he gaue his blessing at their parting, and to Pamphilia, he pro∣mised to assist her when she should haue most need, so they parted, shee thin∣king she had already neede enough of him, but most of anothers ayde. All returned to Corinth where triumphs were made for their comming, Am∣philanthus presently after taking his iourney towards Italy, and so to Ger∣many, accompanied with all the men Princes, the Ladies appointed to stay there with the King of Morea till their returne, when as all the louers should be made happy with their long desired loues in marriage, for the Parents and friends of all were agreed, onely Pamphilia was vnpromised, for she was her owne, but as she had vnfortunately giuen her selfe. They being all departed, the Queene of Naples, & her Cousen the Pamphilian Queene walked abroad, she sad, her noble friend comforting her, not being able on such a sudden to mistrust the cause of her griefe which she onely attributed to parting, and so wholly touch'd on that string she was loth to satisfie her, because her spirit disdained to say she was lost, but most because she could not say so, but the saying blemished his worth; this made her more carefull then any other re∣spect. Much the excellent Queene admired at her sadnes, and vncertaine an∣sweres, oft she was about to vrge her, but againe she let it passe, purposing by circumstance rather then plaine dealing to worke it out of her, or by some other to gaine the knowledge, which at last by the Queene of Bulgaria

who but newly was come amongst them, and onely had hard of Pamphilia, but neuer seene her till the conclusion of the Charmes, speaking of many things came out with Amphilanthus his especiall respect to Musalina. This iudiciall Queene had enough then, and too much, hauing a wound, for shee loued Pamphilia, who, poore Lady went vp and downe like the shadow of her selfe; into saddest walkes which were there shee often went, and with her owne thoughts discoursed, What haue I done, said she, that makes me thus vnfortunate? Dearer then my selfe to me deale yet but thus kindly, or if it be too much for me, all kindnesse being bereft me, doe iustly, and ther∣in like your selfe, and let me know my fault. Alas, is it I, by you once made blessed, was not, or am not fit to enioy it? if so, slake, but not depriue me (wretched me) quite of your fauour, and in so curst a sort as giues folkes leaue to say, I am abandoned, and shun'd. I haue beene more esteemed. Cruell remembrance will you also add to my misery: flye me, or if you stay, serue then to vexe me while I accuse onely you; then shee cast some Verses Sonnet-waies in her thoughts, which were these.

CRuell Remembrance alas now be still, Put me not on the Racke to torture me: I doe confesse my greatest misery Liues in your plenty, my last harme your skill.

Poyson, and Venome onely once doe kill, While you perpetually new mischiefes fee, To vexe my soule with endlesse memory, Leauiug no thought that may increase my ill.

Els haue you neede to tell me I was blest, Rich in the treasure of content, and loue, When I like him, or her had sweetest rest But passd like daies, you stay and vexings proue.

Chang'd from all fauours you add vnto despaire Who vnder these waights grone, most wretched are.

Most wretched indeed, cry'd she, and such an one am I; cruellest (yet worthy still for all your scorne) What haue I deserued to be thus tormen∣ted, and forsaken? Tell me, and vse mee crueller if that may be, so you then make an ende, and againe receiue me into fauour: my soule vowes I am ignorant of any offence willingly committed: did my slight going to to the Sea offend you? Alas, I went but with others, and drawne against my will, my heart still remaining cleare: no, it was not that, but thither I was carried to be absent for wicked change to worke in that time in your heart, and so to ruine mee. Vrania then came to her when shee seemed to cease her complaints, but shee found her sorrowes, and stroue to ad∣uise her. She still put it off, and would not (vnto her) confes, but dissembled; Vrania would many times giue occasion, as then she did, to discouer her melancholy. I would (said Pamphilia) we were gone from hence

I hate this Corinth, and long to see Arcadia againe. Soone said Vrania, you will be there as I heare; but will your sadnesse end then? No, said shee, I should hate my selfe as ill as I doe this place, if I should doe so, change can∣not nor must not aspire to worke such effect in mee. Change (said Vrania) deserues no honour; but discretion may make you discerne when you should bee constant, and when discreete, and thus you doe not change but continue, iudiciall as alwayes you haue beene. Were you so discreet, said Pamphilia? when time was, as I remember, you were forced to bee wash'd before you could manifest your iudgement in leauing: but (sweet Vrania) doe not you proue an enemy to mee, though mine owne eyes and heart haue turn'd to my destruction, bee still a noble friend, and make proofe of it by pittying, not by striuing to make mee more vnhappy, which I shall bee, if I let in that worthlesse humour change, which I can neuer doe till I can change my selfe, and haue new creation and another soule; for this is true and loyall.

Vrania did grant her request in her heart before shee asked it; for shee did, and had pittyed her euer since shee saw her misfortune grow vpon her, but feare lest it would too deepely root in her, made her (though against her owne minde) aduise, for that thing her excellent selfe euer hated, loue made this in her to striue to preferre a seruant she would not entertaine; but seue∣rall bodies must haue seuerall cures, yet this is no cure; for Pamphilia will not change.

As they were thus discoursing, came Musa••ina and the selfe-louing Q••eene. Vrania was glad, because shee hoped company would assist her d••sire in her Cousens good; but shee was deceiu'd, for Pamphilia was in com∣pany, and alone much one, shee could bee in greatest assemblies as priuate with her owne thoughts, as if in her Cabinet, and there haue as much dis∣course with her imagination and cruell memory, as if in the presence. Mu∣salina with great respect and shew of loue, did put her selfe often into her company; shee, after her sad fashion, did entertaine her, few wordes seru'd her turne, and yet because shee would not bee thought too couetous, shee gaue th••m store of sighes to counterpoise the want of speech. The Q••eene of Bulgaria one day would needs tell Musalina, Pamphilia of so much an admired Lady, was the dullest shee euer saw. Musalina desired her for her owne sake to speake that but to her, for (said she) the world will doubt much of that iudgement, that taxeth her for dulnesse; so she againe vrg'd discourse to the sad Lady, shee answer'd short but smartly enough: at last Musalina ask'd her what was become of the Rhodian Lady? return'd, said shee, with sorrow and sufficient shame, if there can bee sufficient for such a fault. Then did Musalina desire to know the story, which so daint••ly and sharply Pamyhi∣lia related to her, as in it she made her see, she vnderstood loue in all fortunes perfectly; this discourse might haue made the Queene see her error, but shee neuer went so farre as to weigh the excellency of the discourse, but heeded only the tale fitter for her capacity. Then came Meriana, who but newly ac∣quainted with Pamphilia, yet had giuen so full a loue to her, as if growing many yeares, and with her best louers pittied her: with her Pamphilia of∣ten discours'd, and with a younger and halfe Sister of hers, who was a Lady of that sweetnesse and delicacie, as she was indeed the most delicatest of that

time for admirable beauty, hauing a minde answerable for excellency to that body, which was without compare for exquisite perfection. They two were the onely Ladies (except Vrania) that she would keepe company with∣all; for these were so discreet, and free from the vanities of other women, as were onely ••it to accompany so much worth in sadnesse. Musalina would come in for one; but Pamphilia would seeke them if absent. One night after supper, Meriana and Pamphilia went from the company by themselues into the Garden, the Moone shin'd, and the euening was sweet and pleasing, both were (if pleasure could be to either one of them, troubled with absence, the other with losse) pleased with that time, and walke, Meriana intreated Pam∣philia to fauour her so much as to say some verses to her; for, said shee, I heare deare Sister, you are excell••nt in Poetry: I haue written something, said Pamphilia; but so sad they are, as on••ly fit me to heare, and keepe: Not so deare Pamphilia, said she; for, beleeue it your Sister hath no ioyfull heart, what face soeuer I show, therefore saddest verses will please me best: you shall haue such said shee, but I seldome make any but Sonnets, and they are not so sweet in rehearsing as others that come more roundly off; but if you will heare some, I that can denye you nothing, will say one to you which I made not long since, and so is the freshest in my minde.

VNquiet griefe, search further in my heart, If place bee found which thou hast not possest; Or so much space can build hopes smallest rest: Take it, 'tis thine, mine is the lodge of smart.

Dispaire, dispaire hath vs'd the skilfulst art, To ruine hope, and murther easefull rest: O me, dispaire, my Vine of hope hath prest, Ra••ish'd the grapes, the leaues left for my part.

Yet Ruler griefe, nor thou Despaire deny, This last request proclaimes 'twas not suspect Graffed this bud of sorrow in my brest: But knowledge dayly doth my losse descry. Cold loue's now match'd with care, change with respect, When true flames liud, these false fires were supprest.

Meriana lik'd them extreamly well commending them aboue measure, and earnestly desiring the Copy, the other promised her it and many more; so they walkd on a while, when the delicate Ladyes Pers••lina and Philistella came vnto them, and telling them it grew late, they went in for that night, the two Sisters together, and Pamphilia with her Sister to her lodging•• where likewise they parted, Philistella to rest, but the distempered Pamphilia to her nightly complaints, to teares, sobbes and groanes, and this was her quiet: Seldome would these braue Ladies let her bee alone in the day time, and Veralinda would bee much with her, all indeed seeking her contentment, but she must not haue it; the Queene of Naples as earnestly as any, or aboue any wishing it. Dancings and all Court sports were daily

in action among them, while she sate with much adoe beholding them, but her selfe none of the number, shee that before was excelling in her apparrell more delicate then any, and none comming neere her for daintinesse in that kinde, now wore only black, and in wearing that as carelesse, as before ex∣treame curious, her hayre that was before, but with greatest care dressed, shee onely kept cleane, and neglectiuely wore it, no iewels came about her; so as she was a mourner in stead of the most sumptuous habits shee was won•• to honour the Court withall: with her trusty seruant the Duke of Perga∣m••s she did only conuerse, for the men kinde, and would sometimes let him s••e her weepe, who did heartily pitty her and best might; for hee had seene her bless'd, and knowne the time shee was as much happy as now distressed. When she did sigh and grieue, he would also mourne; neuer (would he say) could I haue imagined to ••ee this change, had beauty wonne him, worth in∣uited him, beyond either in you, more tollerable had this beene; but pray th••e torment me not, cryed she, with this; she is (I confesse) as worthy as any, and deserues as much as woman can doe to be belou'd, and so much, as were I a man, I should loue her: no fault is in the choyce, but in his vnkind∣nes to me, vnkindnes, which is the only murderer of my blisse; had he done a••y thing but so vnkindly leaue me, I had been satisfied; had he by degrees giuen me my death, more easily I had gain'd it; or, had he plainly told me his determination to loue no longer, it had more iustly come; but suddenly and vndeseruedly to cast me off; in stead of loue, to giue me frownes; for smiles, scornes; for respect, contempt; and all vnlook'd for, or, vnmistrusted; it wounds my very ••oule. I innocently like my loue went towards him, smil'd with the same true ioy I alwayes felt in his sight; hee held his countenance graue, and saluted me like a Queene, but not as a friend or louer: this was strange, as I at first thought, it strooke me to the heart, yet would I not see it, but spake as I was vsed, telling him I hoped that poore Pamphilia should be honour'd with his presence once againe. He soberly, I am loth to say, curstly, r••plyed, it was too late, my ••oule shook with those words, and too soone did they shew my misery. Who did, or could euer thinke to see him thus cruell•• what did he seeme to delight in more then me, or in comparison of me? did he take comfort in any thing else? this is the crueller to me now he is chan∣ged, & like giuen to the heart, strikes sure for curing; yet is this, though most true, vanity in me to remember I haue done. Thus shee would complaine, but only to him who knew the continuance of her loue, and had seene her once to be couerd; but like flames, the more pressed to rise the higher, and now blowne elsewhere by a wauering winde. The Ladies had euery day let∣ters from the trauelling Court, Pamphilia had some from her brothers and Cousen Leonius, but els shee heard no newes. Amphilanthus had forgot to write; but she at last gain'd one letter from him, by one from her which was respectiue, and yet sad; his answer was short, but complementall; this, said she, was not wont to be his stile, but I must be content: nothing did she see or heare, but still of his glory and his loue. This was once, said shee, belong∣ing vnto me•• but I was not worthy of them, sure else he had not alter'd. Me∣riana likewise to make her discourse, & passe away the time, would often tell her stori••s she had knowne of his affection. Alas, would she say, would some good body would tell her he was once, and but lately as kindly mine; for it

grieues me more to heare her speak of it (since each word wounds my soule) then if all should only talke of it, because I know she loues me, & vnwilling∣ly will hurt me: she is deceiu'd and betrai'd in this course, she would not be a meanes to cut my life-strings with this cruelty; some noble body tell her how hee lou'd me, how I still loue him, and then she will no more molest me, nor abase our loues. Sweet Meriana, those dayes now are pass'd of my best delights, be not you an increaser of my woe, but curst remembrance, for no new act of his in this change presents it selfe, but giues a deaths blow to our ancient loues. I could almost be brought to tell it her my selfe, and would, were it not to discouer his forgetfulnes and cruelty; but rather then my lips shall giue the least way to discouer any fault in him, I wil conceale all though they breake my heart; and if I only could be saued by accusing him, I sooner would be secret and so dye: no, my loue will not let me vse thee ill; then be it as it is, Ile liue forsaken and forlorne, yet silently I will indure this wrong, nor once blame him to any others eare, for deare (alas) he is to me, deare to my eyes, deare to my thoughts, and dearest to my heart; since he will rauish that poore part of all the ioy and sweet content it euer had, conuerting it to bitter lasting paine. Cruelly she thus remain'd perplex'd, and cloathd in the woful••'st robe of griefe: what a miserable spectacle was this, to see her, once the comfort of the Court, the starre that guided all the sweet delights, now the poore testimony of another creature, griefe hauing so decayed her, as she seem'd scarce so like her selfe as an ill picture to the life, her chamber & her thoughts were only bound to her, or rather she to them, and thus did she remaine the sad example of forsaken loue. The other Ladies louing in mirth and happinesse, wanton with it like Kids in the Sunne, for blessing shin'd on them, and that, this afflicted Lady did (she said) once know. The Emperour and all his Kings and Princes held their way for Italy; at last ariuing at Rome, where the Pope sent the whole Clergy, and Nobility to meete him without the Towne, and with great pompe and ioy conducted him to the chiefe Church to giue thanks, & then vnto the Castle. Triumphs began that night, and the next day continued, and many dayes, to expresse the content of the Emperours arriuall; but by his command, all dangerous sports of the field were forbidden, because he would haue no bloud mixed with his ente∣ring. Iust they did, but their speares had burs at the points for feare of pier∣cing: after Supper they had Barriers, and all imitation of that braue warre they had lately brauely beene in, and the Concluders of it.

To Naples he went to see his owne Country and People, where hee was affectionately and sumptuously entertain'd, surpassing all other places in magnificence, as in affection to their owne Prince: thence hee went to most parts of Italy that were in his way, or not much out of it, till he came to the neerest part of Germany, and so passd without any aduenture, carying the keyes as one may say, of all those places to open his passage which way hee pleas'd, neuer so pleasant a iourney, all hearts contented, leauing discontent as an vnprofitable thing at home; Buda, Prague, Vienna, all places he saw that were of worth, & traueld ouer the most part of Germany to see the strengths, & sometime for pleasure visited others. At Franckford he was crown'd with the greatest applause & content that euer Emperor was, & with the best rea∣son, for he was the most worthy, and famous that euer reign'd o••er them; but

to all this ioy, a little sorrow, would needs come in, for Leandrus after the Coronation, whether with heate, or ouer-exercising himselfe at these tri∣umphs, striuing to excell all in shew of loue, fell sicke of a Plurisie, a disease little known then, which not being seene time enough, or then taken, he died thereof, before his death writing a letter to Pamphilia, and inclosing an infi∣nite rich Ring within it, which he besought her, although he belieued, shee cared not for it; yet to keepe in memory of him, who most affectionately and loyally loued her; so as though her loue should not suffer in his death, but as he loued her, yet she might, when she looked on that, say, ••he Master of this loued me. These he gaue in charge to Leonius to send her, which hee did, comming to ger one morning, after she had endured a sad and vnquiet night; for she hauing got away from the company, shut her doore, pretending to sleepe; but poore Lady little rest did shee enioy, carrying the enemy within her selfe, that held her eyes vnclosed: her heart oppressed, and be friended her in nothing, except furnishing her with teares, and new cause still to shed them. O Pamphilia (cride she) was thy creation for thy ruine? was thy birth giuen thee, to haue a life wholly in affliction? were all contrarieties to plea∣sure ioyned together for thee to possesse, and vertues giuen thee to be vn∣done by? else why was this rare excellent qualitie of constancy alotted thee? was iudgement giuen me, to make the worthiest choice, wholly to discerne; I chose well, but to bee rewarded with that leane benefit, and losse to bee my gaine. Did I reiect the firme, and spotles loue of that excellent Prince Steri∣amus, the humble suites of all the greatest subiects, and neighbour Princes, slighted the earnestnesse of the noble Prince Leandrus, refused all, and made my selfe a Vassell in affection to him, that weighes neither mee, nor these ex∣pressions of loue? I haue done all this, and I yet haue not done enough; for, O how worthy is he? though vnkind to mee, you might yet most cruell man haue shewed more gratefulnesse, and I had been contented, no colour you haue to excuse that with all, for you knew my loue, you seemed to cherish it, all eyes saw it too, for my face shewed it, I stroue for nothing more then mean••s to declare it, mine eyes did looke but for meanes, to shew how they and I were won by you, my lipps haue parted from themselues to let my tongue make true confession of that you then seemd with expressefull ioy, and content to entertaine. Where is that loue now gone? where is that content you embraced, departed, and with that instant forgotten? the Hea∣uens will yet for me witnes my vnchanged heart, and vnstained affection: the aire hath been, and is so fild with my complaints and protestations, as I won∣der it doth not like Ordinance rattle in your eares: the Sunne hath blushed for you, the Moone been pale, and wan, nay hid her face from my teares which I haue shed for your inconstancy. All things heauenly and earthly pi∣tie me, except your selfe, from whom onely good by pitie may arise. Why did I open my heart alone to your loue, shutting it to all other motions to be thus carelessely throwne off? but I am well enough requited, since had I for∣tunatly held these passions in me, the fiercenes of them might by this haue rid me of these during torments, & haue left this poore body a loyall sacrifice to loue, & the loue of the most vngrateful. Vngrateful, why do I cal him so? par∣dō me dearest, though despising deere, I wrong you more in this title, which is the worst that can be giuen to mā, then you haue iniur'd me though with vn∣merrited

deceit; it was a certaine and too great confidence, ioyned with assu∣rance, of what I most desired, that betrayed mee, and my ioyes with it, else I might sooner haue seene, if not maskt with innocent belief, and abusd with trust, or am I punished for aspiring to the ioy, soules on earth can be••t, and chiefliest couet, as blest with inioying, in hauing your fixed loue. Oh confi∣dence, I feare tis you that I must curse, you are the honest, though vnfortunat chanced-ill that haue vntied my hope. Was it good nature made him so re∣fraine my sight and presence, nay, vnlesse by force my words, and that because you cannot loue still, nor wil say so in charitie, you will auoide all, if so be yet more mercifull, and multiply your pitie with this free increase, kil me at once for all, torture me not with sorrowes, I will truly and religiously confesse, I am not worthy of you; but it is not my fault, I wish I were so fit, as you might euer loue, and such an one as all the world might thinke fit for you, then I know you would be iust: nor wish I this for any benefit, but for your loue; for else in the comparison of other gaine vnto my selfe, or any other then your loued selfe, I rather would wish to be a Black-moore, or any thing more dreadfull, then allure affection to me, if not from you; thus would I be to me∣rit your loued fauour, the other to shew my selfe purer, then either purest White or Black: but faith will not preuaile, I am forsaken and despised, why dye I not? it is not fit, no, tis not fit, I still must liue, and feele more cause of woe, or better to say, to see my cause of woe.

Cruell forsaker, looke but once on mee, or rather on my loue, there you shall find if vnremoueable affection, and zealous truth can seeme deserts, I will, and doe deserue you in them better then any, and more then any, if not not, my selfe againe shall doe; my c••aselesse plaints may some way claime re∣ward, my nights spent wholly in salt floods of teares, eyes turned to swelling Riuers, may lament that they and I should thus regardlesse passe: some o∣ther motiues, which your selfe best knowes, might tie you in a bond more kind and gratefull: but these I vrge not, be your owne best selfe, and as once you were, then will you still be free from cruelty, if not accused by Iustice selfe, and then too large a punishment will second the offence. Offence, alas I cannot call it one, for I am yours, and may not you dispose of yours, as best doth like your selfe? Yet is there meanes to helpe, if you please to assist, if not condemned, I will remaine, till I may haue my end, which most I wish, and speedily I trust to gaine, then if your once most vallued, vertuous grateful∣nesse be sent, twill be too late, only this good I may receiue, or my cold ashes for mee, that when my death shall come vnto your eares, your matchlesse heart may be content to let a sad thought hold you for a while, and if so, too too much for mee, who still do wish your blessednesse.

In this manner vnluckie Princesse, shee passed that night, till day ap∣peared; Ay mee sad night, said shee, haue you now left mee too? shall light afresh perplex mee? my waylings ••itter were to bide in you, afflictions soun∣ded best in you, darke, blacke and terrible, as you were; is my state, vn∣comfortable, and affrighred howers, suted better with my woes, my for∣tune like your face, my hopes blacker then your saddest Mantle, whose dul∣nesse changeth them into despaire, yet liked I you farre better, then this flattering approaching day: you truely shewed my selfe vnto my selfe, you were mine eyes to make mee see my selfe, and how farre distant I

remaind from comfort in my want. Then turned she in her bed, and put her sad afflicted face into the pillow to hide day from her, which she needed not, her eyes labouring so fast to deliuer themselues of her teares, as their shew∣ers were sufficient clouds, to dim all sight with them.

As she thus lay, her Maide that waited next vnto her, came in, but not da∣ring (though so bold as to come into the chamber, being more then without extraordinary businesse she durst doe) to speake to her, a little opened the curtaine, and laid a letter by her, shee started at it, and asked from whom it came: from the Prince Leonius, said she. With that she instantly went out a∣gaine. Pamphilia opened it, and finding another within, her heart rise a lit∣tle in deluding hope; but by the little day that was (her bed standing to the window) she saw quickly what it was. And is it come to this (said she) most true Leandrus? I could (methinks) for thy sake blame my selfe, for being cru∣ell to thee; yet maist thou rather thanke me, who would not dissemble with thee, not hauing any loue for thee, that I would not deceiue thee. This token of thy earnest faith and loue Ile keep for thee, and weare it for thee, nor euer part with it, vntill I die, and then bequeath it to that Person I shall most affect, and make my choicest friend, these teares I shed for thee, and pay them as the off••rings to thy death. O loue, O crueltie; see how you gouerne mee.

Then came the King and Queene, and all the braue Ladies, some to com∣fort, some to aduise, some and many to gaze; most verily belieuing, her sad∣nesse before had been for absence, now expressed for his death, but that death-sorrowing-cause was before happened, that molested her, yet she took this vpon her, though in respect of his faith to her, shee was sorry to set a co∣lour of deceit vpon any thing that concerned him, but this businesse neuer concerned her self, and yet her noble gratefulnesse chid her for it. She wept, they comforted, they counselled, shee lay silent, and grieued beyond their helpe; her parents most louingly and kindly aduised, she shewed both humi∣litie in the suffering, and humble thankefulnesse for their cares; yet did mo∣destly, and respectiuely let them see, twas lonelines she desired, which they granted her.

No sooner were they out of the doore, but they were called againe by a shrike her woman gaue, for she with violence of passion held in before them, hauing no vent, would burst, ouercame her: they stroue to recouer her; Fa∣ther, Mother, Friend, Sisters, Vrania, al did their best, at last they brought her out of her swound, when she sighed, groaned, and cri'd, O cruell; then againe fainted, and thus did shee thrice; but at last comming to her selfe, shee was saying more; but her senses comming apace to her, she found it vnfit, and too many Counsellors by; wherefore she againe desired to be alone, and that was all she required of them, which for her satisfaction was allowed her, and being alone she thus began, or rather continued her complaints which could haue no new beginning neuer hauing end.

What haue I done but sorrow? nay, what shall I euer else doe? salues I can haue none to ease me, nor so much as giue me shew of it. O Vrania, how maist thou in thy heart chide the murderer of thy affectionate, but miserable Co∣sin? Parselius how wilt thou deny acquaintance, and friendship with so waue∣ring a creature? did not he say, and write he loued me? did not his still win∣ning

eyes assure me, and his sweete charming speech confirme me in this be∣leife? I am not then deceiued; deceiued, O yes, but not in iudgment, but by faulshood. O faulshood, what pitty is it that thou shouldest inuest thy selfe in so sweete, and delicate attyre? once I remember I told him of his change when he lelft Antissia, he denyed it not, but excused it with hauing chosen better, and so to chuse was no fault, but it seemes the best is not found, vn∣happy I, must behold these dayes, and be left, who most vnchangeably loue him. Then came Vrania againe vnto her, whose hand Pamphilia tooke, and wringing it, wept, and sighed, hauing scarce breath left her to breath her sighs with; Vrania seeing her passion, and the assurance of her end if thus she continued, whom as her selfe she loued, like such a friend, and a discreet, Counsellor ioyned in commission with her friendship, she thus spake.

My deerest Cousen said shee, let neither my presence (hauing put my selfe contrary to your seeming desires of lonelynes into your company) nor my speech wholy proceeding from affection be displeasing to you: Stoppe these teares which else will find no stay but in your end, giue not occasi∣on for loue to see so much his victory, and to tryumph ouer your braue, and matchlesse spirit, or for Man to glory, that our weaknes meeting their fauls∣hood can submit so low as to their tyranny.

Where is that iudgment, and discreet gouern'd spirit, for which this and all other places that haue beene happy with the knowledge of your name, hath made you famous? will you now fall vnder the low groanes of the meanest esteemed passion? Where is that resolution, which full of braue knowledge, despised the greatest Princes when they wore loues liuery; must this sinke, while his tossing follies swimme? shall your excellent vertues bee drowned in the Sea of weaknesse? call your powers together, you that haue been admired for a Masculine spirit, will you descend below the poorest Femenine in loue? If he be dead you loued, loue his memory discreetly: how would he grieue, if he could into that ioyfull place where he is, see you torment your selfe; nay, sorrow infinitely to see such inability in her, whom he had chosen to rule himselfe and his? if your people knew this, how can they hope of your gouernment, that can no better gouerne one poore passion? how can you command others, that cannot master your selfe; or make laws, that cannot counsel, or soueraignise ouer a poore thought? yet it may be you are not in some kind faulty altogether in this, since it may bee a liuing loue perplexeth you, if so, it is worse, for will you lie here wasting your dayes and hopeful time in this tormenting fashion, keeping that secret, which told, it may be would helpe you? let passion since possessing you, breathe it selfe forth; and though you will not demand helpe; yet if the blessing of your affection were knowne to him, who it may be, liues ignorant of the hap∣pinesse, all content without question would be offered you: speak then, and as to your selfe if you will not trust mee, and I will but by chance ouer-heare you, I am sure you cannot affect impossibilities. If hee be false, will you vex your selfe, when you may rather bee glad you discouer it before too far mis∣fortune assayled you, as longer ingagement would produce? if cruell, were it not better he matched else-where, then that you had fallen into that vnhap∣pinesse? if vnconstant (which is a thing familiar with men) take a good heart, and hate that humour by your owne worthy constancy, and seeke to preserue

your excellent beauty, and let not so vncertaine a qualitie hurt you: beautie is besides a vertue counted among men of that excellent worth, as it wil draw their hearts as Adamants doe Iron: yet in this the comparison is not so pro∣per, their hearts too tender to resist an easier inuitement, but I say beauty will sooner compasse ones desires in loue, then any other vertue, since that is the attractiue power, though worth is often made the glosse of their change, which they are in many places forced to take such paines to find, & found is scarce enough to be called so, not being more then iust will serue turne to be termed worth, not worth the trauell of seeking, yet if some, better then no shadow for their fault. Preserue your health, then that must continue your beauty, let not the world blame you with iust cause, you haue grieued enough for men euerlastingly to curse themselues, that one of their kind should giue occasion of sorrow to the most deseruing woman; all is yet well, you may with care, recouer what is something touched, and in time see his repen∣tance which you may pity, or bee more wise, and respect in stead of louing him, who how worthy in all else, deserues not one of these teares, if false to you, let him goe and reioyce, you see his imperfections before you were ty∣ed to them, yet bee sure you mistake him not, or vnmeritingly condemne him, for then the falshood will be laid to your charge, and his clearenes will make you more blame worthy. This I aduise as my selfe would be aduised if in such extremity, and this I say to you my dearest Cosin, and would say, though I knew it were mine owne brother had caused this mischiefe. Your brother (said Pamphilia) if faulty, might yet challenge more care from you, and testimonie of loue, who ought as a sister rather to hide, or couer his im∣perfections.

So I would to any, but to you (said Vrania) who suffer I perceiue so extreamely for him. Pardon me, said she, I accuse him not, farre is it from my heart to blame him, which causelesly I should doe. You therefore con∣clude too briefly on my words, but for me my onely friend and dearest Co∣sin, this world hath no helpe left for mee in store, but a speedy end, which all that loue me, with me should soone wish it to me; yet I must say some thing in loues defence, whom you so much condemne that I haue read in all sto∣ries, and at all times, that the wisest, brauest, and most excellent men haue been louers, and are subiect to this passion. I grant you that (said Vrania) but haue you not withall found by iust obseruation, that it was a blemish to their other excelling vertues? Why sweet Vrania (said she) what hath loue done to you, to make you thus bitter against him? do you not happily enioy what you desire? are you ambitious to any thing within his authority, which hee brings not to your wishes end, yet you reuile and despise him, who but plaid with you in hurts, and cloyes you with his fauours, while I tormented with his fury, proue not vngrateful. I am not vngrateful, said Vrania, but fortunate, I am not his slaue. I loue Loue, as he should be loued, & so deare Lady do you, and then you will plainly see, he is not such a Deity, as your Idolatry makes him, but a good child well vse flattred, an insolent thing comming ouer our harts, as children ouer the poore birds they catch before they can flie, think∣ing they master them, when indeede it is their want of wings makes their bondage; and so deare Cosin it is our want of courage and iudgement makes vs his slaues: take heart to your noble, and knowing selfe, and let him bee

as he is now a proud, then puling Babe. Alasse my friend said she, how sorry am I your excellēt counsell is bestowed on one so little deseruing it, as not be∣ing able to right it by following it, which I am not able to doe, but some answere I must make to you, I am so wholy his as it is past mistaking, the wound being giuen mee deepely by his vnkindnes which martyrs mee, not that I am forsaken doe I lament, but my true loyall forlorne heart within me, bewailes the misfortune it vndergoes, by being displaced from that most loued, being which was in his breast, once cheri••ht, or flattered there; now to returne to this miserable prison my body, which is nothing but dispaire.

Thus you see it is truth, and such truth as only shall haue end by my miserable dayes conclusion. To leaue him for being false, would shew my loue was not for his sake, but mine owne, that because he loued me, I there∣fore loued him, but when hee leaues I can doe so to. O no deere Cousen I loued him for himselfe, and would haue loued him had hee not loued mee, and will loue though he dispise me; this is true loue, and if not this the con∣trary, should I reioyce for misse of any ill might from trusting, or being true to his amisse, in such bond had my blessing beene, and my cu••se the fayling of them, or had they hapned•• Pamphilia must be of a new composition before she can let such thoughts fall into her constant breast, which is a Sanctuary of zealous affection, and so well hath loue instructed me, as I can neuer leaue my master nor his precepts, but still maintaine a vertuous constancy. Tis pit∣tie said Vrania, that euer that fruitlesse thing Constancy was taught you as a vertue, since for vertues sake you will loue it, as hauing true possession of your soule, but vnderstand, this vertue hath limits to hold it in, being a vertue, but thus that it is a vice in them that breake it, but those with whom it is broken, are by the breach free to leaue or choose againe where more staidnes may be found; besides tis a dangerous thing to hold that opinion, which in time will proue flat heresie. Rise now deere Cousine, and if not to receiue, yet to giue comfort to the King and Queene who are afflicted exces∣siuely with your sorrow; dissemble not with me, for you may see by my dis∣course I know the roote of your distemper, yet this satisfaction I will giue your mind, that so secret I will be in my knowledge, as I will not speake of it to your selfe if not to serue you with all, yet I will euer accuse, and blame vnworthy inconstancy. To fulfill your desire, and obay your counsell asmuch as I can, I will rise, answered Pamphilia, but only to content my Parents, and please you, else little ioy or pleasure can I take in this world, but when you haue me with you, you must permit me to complaine vnto my selfe, I will neuer trouble any eares but those of mine owne soule with my sorrowes, o∣therwise should I deale vnkindly with mine owne heart, come abroad and doe what you will said Vrania, nor will I hinder, or seeke to alter you from griefe so it be moderated with iudgment, expressing in some sorrowing your matchles goodnes, and noble disposition. Thus did the diuine Vrania againe by her excellent wit conquer, hauing brought Perissus from a desolate and sad life, to a fortunate, and now Pamphilia to let the Court bee happy with seeing her though in sadnes, yet a ioy to all harts. The Emperour being at Prage, L••onius desired leaue to returne to Corinth, and thence to carry his beautyfull, and beloued Veralinda to her father, not doubting but to gaine

his consent for their hoped-for marriage, and so to bring her bake into Mo∣rea against the other marriages, where his might make vp one of the bles∣sed number. His request was granted, and so he tooke his leaue, desiring to trauell alone, trusting to doe something sit for his birth and bloud, to make his meeting more welcome to his friends. He parted as hee desired, onely one Squire attending him, hee pass'd the rest of Germany without aduen∣ture, those parts so wrapt in ioy, and content, as an aduenture durst not ap∣peare, for feare of beating; but in Bulgaria he had one sufficient to answer, for all the rest of his quiet passage.

Riding through a great Forrest, for many daies he met no man, or crea∣ture, but heard wild beasts roare, and make hideous noyses; his Squire and he pass'd on, he thinking of his Loue, the other how to auoid the danger of that place if suddenly surprised by those fierce inhabitants. As thus they trauelled, a Gentlewoman came riding very fast towards them, her counte∣nance shewed distresse, her apparell good, and comely, but her face sad, and perplexed, ••hewing frightfulnesse so perfectly, as shee was (one might say truely) disturb'd, or a very exact dissembler. When she came nere Leonius, she cast her eyes vpon him, O cry'd shee, that courtesie were lodging equall to beauty in this Knight; hee hearing her, Faire Gentlewoman, said hee, what reason haue I giuen you to doubt my desire to serue you, should not answer any outward person? Truely Sir, said shee, my owne misfortune makes me doubt, which hath beene such hitherunto, as neuer any could so iustly say, liued forlorne of happinesse, and this makes me suspitious of any, but misery. Alas said he, how can it be, that you should bee made faire, to fall into so foule mischance? I am (said shee) the most afflicted liuing, and will let you see it, although you assist me not, for you shall heare my story, and if that may mooue, I may be bless'd; but first, I beseech you tell mee your name. I am call'd (said hee) Leonius, Sonne to the King of Naples, and brother said she, I hope to the famous Emperour. Yes indeed (said he) it is my happines to haue that honour. You are most happy in that, said she, and now haue I a little share, me thinkes, of content, that I haue mine eyes bless'd with the sight of his brother, who wants no harts, but tongues suffi∣cient to set out his praise, hauing all that are created already to the full that blessing can enioy.

My fortune Sir (said shee) is this, I had a Father, and he many children, but in the number had, as Merchauts haue among their wares, some good, some bad, mixed as the mothers were of disposition, which being many had seuerall heires: for foure wiues he had, my mother the last, by whom he had my selfe, and one brother, who lines and is all (if any) comfort I haue; this youth and I bredd together increased affection and loue most betweene vs, so as we loued more then any other two: the elder scorning vs, what for our young yeares, and so want of discretion fit to accompany them, or for being but halfe in bloud, had but halfe affection shewed towards vs. I know not the truth, but sure I am, I feele the hurt and want. At last my father died, leauing vs to the eldest sonne, who vsed vs well and kindly, but hee died soone after, leauing the second to succeed him; which he did for the estate, but not for goodnesse, hee being as vnkind and curst, as the other was affable and lo∣uing; he kept vs, tis true, but how? only from staruing; for plenty wee were

scanted both of meanes and content, while frowardnes and ill natures was in aboundance. Then did this brother marry, and wed more ill humours, for she was richer in ill nature, then he that was like a sacke of woole, stuffed with wickednes. A third, and then second Brother liued, whose ill out-sprung (though an after plant) the elder; hee went so far as hee left no ill vnpracti∣sed, not so much as that he ventur'd not once to attempt the staine of my chastity, and his shame in me. This indeede made my hate vncurable, and like a fire hapned, where Oyle, pitch, rosin, flax, and all such cumbustable matters are together, can be quenched with nothing till the ruine shewes the tryumph: so my wrong can be heal'd by nothing but the deadliest re∣ueng. This I was not able to obtaine my selfe, but I was forced to demand helpe, and acquaint my deere brother withall, who twise met him in the feild, but both brought home hurt alike, and like resembling death, none knowing the quarrell but my selfe, or had all beene assured of it, none like me could haue grieued; now perceiuing that thus no end would be of the iniury, we alone but for our selues trauelled from that place to a Castle not far hence, the desertnes of it, and this place only furnished with wild beasts, making it abandoned of them, and most that loue pleasure. We were suffered to be quiet heere, whether out of loue to themselues, or hate to vs, hoping to heare daily of our ruine; but contrary to their wish we haue con∣tinued heere three yeares vnhurt, yet not vnharmd, because I haue beene the cause of hurt too many braue Gentleman like your selfe who haue ho∣nour'd me, and truth with aduenturing cheering yet haue perished, my bro∣thers being infinite strong, and lucky in their aduentures. This I confesse hath so much perplexed me, as I haue almost resolued neuer to entreat any more to fauour me rather then that they should dye to reuenge me so worth∣les a creature; yet Sir you are of so braue a Stocke, and brother to so happy a King, as I may me thinkes hope on you, yet as you are bound most for these, besides the hopes your owne person may giue, I will not vrge you least I should be so luckles as to procure least harme to you, for Sir there is no pitty, nor good to be expected f••ō them if you fall into their hands, wher∣fore I will sooner, & more willingly cousent to remaine thus wronged, dis∣honor'd, & ouerthrowne, then se••ke to be ayded by your harme; Leonius the more cunningly, and finely she insinuated by intreating, and denying, won more on him, so as he told her if it pleased her to put that confidence in him, he would lay that life at her feete, and the feete of Iustice which she seemed so much to respect, and that he would encounter her brother to right her honour touched by him. She humbly thanked him, and so led him towards a Castle standing in the middest of the wood, where he was receiued with much respect by him who was her Lord, and brother to her as she said; in∣to the Castle they went, the gate shut againe, and a Mote being about the Castle, a Bridg was drawne vp, Leonius liked it not extreamely well, yet she telling him twas for their safety, he pass'd on satisfied with her answere; the Lord with al respect, & kindnes in a friends part acted, welcom'd him: at sup∣per delicate, and fine fare was set before him, no truth in affection, nor ex∣act counterfetting could better be acted; sad Leonius was, whether foretel∣ling his danger, or the hideous noyses and roaring of the Beasts, made as me∣lancholly a passion on his minde, as their voyces were to the eares of the

hearers. After supper he walked vp and downe, seeming iust the picture of his braue brother, who seldome was other then a noble retired spirit to it selfe, demanded. To his chamber he then was carried by the Lord and Lady, there found he a braue roome furnished with stuffe, and Plate fit for a Prince his lodging, he weary, and willing to see the time when he might againe be bles∣sed with Veralindas sight, he went to bed, folding his armes, wishing his Mi∣strisse instead of her imagined selfe, had been betweene them; he sighed, and turned as if from vaine hopes, and put himselfe within the clothes to couer his folly, as impossible wishes euer are. Long he had not rested, when from that he was cald, as a little being too much for him, many men came in, the first carrying Candles, the rest a Banket; hee sat vp in his bed admiring the maner, when the Lady came to him, & drank to him, willing him to be mer∣ry, and (said she) reioyce, for now you are fallen into the hands, with that making a signe, & his eies being fixt on her, besides a little heauy, so quickly discernd not the treason, as otherwise he had; cords were throwne ouer his armes, and he made prisoner. Vilanous treason, cryd he, of any, and most de∣stable of any other, what is the cause, what is the meaning of this? I am indeed falne, but how? by treachery and falshood in a faire Counterfetter, but fou∣lest in the being fal••e. She laughed to see him tide, and told him, she neuer saw chaines better become a Knights armes, then his, especially they ought to sit best on the Emperours brother next himselfe, whom she wished in his place, though he were on that condition free. He said no more, but was tormented inwardly as much, as so noble a spirit could be, but he with all careful and de∣sirous to free himself, if he could catch opportunity. They careles desird him to rise and go with them, heedles of his watch, which they repented; for he ri∣sing, found the chaines so loose, as he slipt out of them, and getting his sword which lay euer with him drawne, such a busines he made among thē, as ma∣ny were hurt, and some kild, the Lady he kickt ouer, & with al contempt told her, that he would die like a Prince, hating her abominable trechery, & scor∣ning more her falshood, then plot. Some of the seruants ran to their Lord, to let him know the accident, and to know what should bee done; hee in his Gowne and only his shirt vnder it, his sword in his hand following the ser∣uants, who when they came to the chamber, let him (as being their Master) haue the place to enter, they indeede not daring to venture againe into the roome. He went in, finding Leonius then vpon one of his men, and him he best loued, ready to strike off his head; Hold your hand, said he, braue Prince, and end your quarrell on me more meriting the blow. All of you, said he, equally merit punishment for disloialty, but you indeed most, being the greatest, and therfore most vnfit to be ill, but ill beeing most punish-worthy, still holding his sword ouer the man. What may I do (said the Lord) to satisfie you? To giue me liberty (said Leonius) although it be my due, being brought hither to serue your faithlesse Sister: I will not bee so poore to aske; yet if I must make my choice, I will be content with this, let vs two as we are in our shirts fight for liberty or imprisonment, if you ouercome, I will remaine willingly your gaine, if I vanquish, let me haue liberty to depart, and on these conditi∣ons I will saue the life of this creature. I am content, said the Lord. With that he threw his Gowne off.

Nay stay (said the fauourd man, my safty shal not proue harme any more to

him that giues me life, call your sonne, and your other seruants, coniure him and them to performe this condition; well was this liked, and so performed. Then did Leonius, and the Castle Lord ••ight so daintily and valiantly, as ne∣uer was any combat like it, naked men brauely performing, what discourses or Romancies striue with excellentest witty descriptions, to expresse in Knights armed, curious in their arming, and carefull. Here is no defence but vallour, and good fortune; armour, but delicate shirts, and more delicate skinnes; sheilds, but noble breasts of steele sufficient, being strong in worth: yet the noblest must ouercome, so did Leonius, who hauing kild the Lord, ha∣uing himselfe receiued some wounds, but none very dangerous, stood still looking on the young Lord, who with teares beheld his father dead, and ca∣sting his eyes like a noble Gentleman on Leonius, Sir (said he) you haue now the conquest, and shall haue the conditions kept with you, which were made by my father. In weeping he cald for a Chirurgion, who dressed his wounds, seeking first for helpe for his father, but there was no hope; hee nobly deli∣uerd the Armes againe belonging to Leonius, to him: when he had receiued them, and saw all things iustly performed, which was by the mankind promi∣sed, he desired one thing more of the Gentleman, whose harme brought his good, which was, to know the truth of the busines. My Lord (said he) the truth is this, there is nothing true which she related vnto you but faigned, as diuers others haue been to worke her end: She is not sister, nor any thing that good is to my dead Lord, but a creature kept by him, this my young Lord being sonne by his vertuous and worthy wife, whose heart was broken by his immoderate affection to this woman; she hated all worth, and now sure∣ly was cloyd with him, striuing by all meanes to put him into dangerous ad∣uentures, not caring what shee did, so she had her pleasure. No weeke hath passed, that she hath not had one, or two of such like businesses, faigning fals∣hoods, and discourses as she found their Persons shee met withall, especially hating the Emperour for his, and your fathers sake, who gaue offence to her, by hauing in his youth a while liked her mother, and for necessity of the place surely more then affection hauing enioyed, after left her. This (as leauing is a hatefull thing to women vpon what termes soeuer) and she doubting her end would grow vnto it, vowed all hurt to your illustrious family, and to that end she laid this trap for you. Leonius took his leaue of the young Lord, who brought him out of the Castle to see him safe, permitting his Chirurgion to goe with him, turning the vild creature out of his gates alone, and vnproui∣ded of any thing but her wickednesse, wherewith she was plentifully furnish∣ed, and all that with her selfe enioyed by the wild beasts. Noble was this act, for a braue enemy gaines equall fame by nobly vsing his enemy as by cheri∣shing his friend. Leonius tooke his iourney, and way still, as he pretended to his Mistrisse; he passed Bulgaria, hating it for this mischiefe, and without any saue neate aduenture, which was this, gaind right against Corinth. A passionate man walked vp and downe the Sands, being vpon the Strand of the Gulfe of Lepanto, somtimes viewing Heauen, crauing aide from thence, then the earth blaming her cruelty; alas, cryd he pitiles Heauen that could view, and permit such extremity, to suffer so chastly loyall a Loue to end in so sad a sort. Who could (but you) haue beheld her dying, and not succour her? With that the Prince went to him, desiring to heare the whole discourse, who hauing vrgd,

the passionate Man spake thus. I am not tied (said he) to make the relation; but I must know one thing before I speake, which is, whether you bee a louer or not, if you bee, I shall the more willingly speake, because you will vnder∣stand mee, else I shall be loth to bestow much passionate breath so much in vaine, to one that will no more esteeme of it, then of an old tale. The Prince gaue him full satisfaction of h••s being a louer, when the Man said thus. This vnfortunate piece of mankind you see here, is called Cilandrus. I am of Co∣rinth borne•• and bred a Merchant; a Knight in that City had a daughter cald Lendrina, of admirable beauty, and such as by the iust admiring it brought many, and most to be her seruants, all gazing on her, as on a Meteor, she knew her perfections, otherwise she had not deserued them; but being too exact in knowledge was proud of their rarenesse, and so farre as she thought them not fit to be bestowed on any, none being worthy of them. Men of all sorts sued vnto her, she had answers of all kinds answerable to their estates to be∣stow on them; but the Prince he saw her, and liked her, she thought he must not for her owne honour being an assured credit, as shee esteemed it, or bee sought by him, who shee falsely imagined might command all, entertained him, but how? not fondly, nor so kindly, but as she vsed him respectiuely, yet she made him sue, and labour for his ends. She would meete him at places appointed, but as if she were without him to haue gone to them, & by chance met him. Out of the Towne she would goe to a house of her fathers, thither would he goe to visit her, and to see how the aire (the pretended cause of her going) agreed with her. She accepted of his visits, and tooke them as graces to her, and would fauour him so farre, as to come to the Towne with him, so as he attended her to her house, for she loued the noise of loue, as wel as loue it selfe, thinking it a braue thing to heare it said, the Prince visits Lendrina, the Prince seekes, and sues to her, the Prince is in loue with Lendrina. This folly puft her vp, so as she in time grew like a Rose ouer-blowne, loosing her more in youth exquisite beauty, yet her mind was as full of ambition, and pride. I yet reuerenced her, for surely she was honest, folly and vanity rather working, then want of vertue, though stoor'd with those vices. A Noble∣man also of that Towne fell enamoured of her, although he would not haue had it, said so, beca••se a braue, but vnfortunate Lady lou'd him to that height of expression, and length of time, as gratefulnesse boldly challenged loue, but that she scarce had being forced to be contented with a few good words sel∣dome visits, and cold promises, she poore Lady louing so feruently, as if no∣thing else did mooue. That made Lendrina proud to haue his loue from her, but when her beauty began to fade, the Prince his affection grew like a coole euening after a hot day, yet still showing loue; this discouerd, how did shee rumble vp her wits, and not only hers, but also the best braines of her friends, or helps in her affections busines? What poasting was there vp an downe? what consultations, plots for meetings, but with whom? with the other Lord, and he (braue Gentleman abused by their crafts) made belieue her af∣fection was such to him, as for him she would leaue the Prince, and in com∣parison of her loue to him, hated all else. Hee began to belieue it, and some reason hee had, because shee made her high mind stoope to come to places where shee might encounter him; his true louer heard of it, and so farre it wrought in her kind heart, as she fell sicke almost to death: but something he

did comfort her, although so faint his words were, and weake his protestati∣ons, as but that she willing to cosen her selfe with good opinion of him, shee might haue thought them dissemblings, which for the good I beare her, and deserued honour she meriteth, God grant she find not so, and this should all Louers wish, for when she dyes, loue will neuer find so certaine an habitati∣on, and that want he will shortly haue, for the noble Lady cannot long su∣staine with this induring, and this grieues me, for I honour, and loue her most of any woman, except her for whom these my sorrows are; deep, and remedi∣lesse are the wounds vnkindnesse brings in loue, grieuous the cruelty vngra∣titude brings forth, but these are as vsuall now among vs, as faire seasons in Sommer: He came one day into a roome where she remained, and woare a colour which she had procured him once for her sake (hating it) to leaue, and neuer more to weare, she looked on it as he doth on the Axe, whose head is to be taken off with it: her heart smarted, and shee was perplexed, yet durst she not find falt, but sadly told him, she had not seene him weare that colour in many yeares before. No quoth he, nor now but a little, it is in great request (said she) at this time; is it, said he? Why, who doth loue it? She feared to tell him whom she doubted, and was well assured affected it, but put it off, and laid it on another. Alas, poore and pure loue, what gouernours hast thou, and fond commanders, that thou canst not bee iust vnto thy selfe for feare of ouerseers? and yet what ouerseers feare you? but those that ouersee their true respect, and makes you blind to truth? I saw her another time (for be∣ing a louer like her, I loued solitarinesse) alone laid by a Riuer side the most pleasant place that my eyes euer saw, and fittest for passion to gaine libertie in, hauing all such delicasies in sight, and varietie, as these her speeches will let you vnderstand to be sweet, but silent hearers of her paines. O Heauens, Earth Plaines, Mountaines, Hills, Forrests, Riuers, Springs, Caues, Feilds, Hearbs, Vines, Woods, Groues, Flowers, Masse, Rocks, Trees, witnesse my faith and loue, and say for me that you grew not, spring not, runne not, flow not, senci∣bly increase, nourish, graze, prosper, and inrich but these, and they oft told haue bin in me, and my estate; I haue been happy like your best rich yeere, I haue despaird, and do like dearth I haue flowed, and swom in pleasure, I am dried in sorrow and despaire, I haue bin all, and now am nothing but a poore sad thing to say I was; force me not deare remembrance to these harmes, if you helpe not I shall waste enough, and doe. These tooke I to my selfe, and paraleld my fortunes with her woes: but what auaild? shee cryd, and grieued remedilesly, so do I too. My thinks, said Leonius, you rather, or as willingly set forth her sorrowes, as your owne, the strangen••sse of her worthines in truth makes me to speake so much of hers, mine being but as shadowes to them, though true substances of miseries, and the more perfect in being like hers, who is the perfectest louer, she I say (said he) who neuer yet saw storme to stirre her thoughts, though Shipwrackt in his scorne; no wind blew her to change, nor change had gliding neare her, much lesse stay, but to my paines, Sir this it is. The Lady beloued and sought, had a Gentlewo∣man attending on her, who had, and hath full rule of mee, shee faire and delicate, knew shee might bee, or ought to bee beloued, looked like a Princesse secure in her estate, where all hearts were hers, so shee smiled on mee, as on a subiect, I tooke it more kindlie, and so wrapped my

selfe willingly into the Snare; for when I came to her, and out of hope im∣boldned craued her fauor, she told me she was not Marchandise, nor to bee gaind that way, but her loue was free, and freely should be giuen. I quaked at that instant like a child before the rod; but after I tooke courage, and a∣gaine persued, but yet preuailed not, for her affections were placed on a Gentleman Steward of the house, a fine man, and such an one as meriteth the title, delicate in his apparell, Courtly in his discourse, and as a young man passionate in shew, and curious in his behauiour like a Courtier, these pre∣uailed with her, his perfumes ascended aboue my desearts, his neatnes be∣yond my estate, and his fairenes exceeded my merits, but I enuy not his for∣tune, nor did I hate any thing but my misfortune, nor haue I reason, for hee enioyed her not so much as to marriage, which would he had though I had euer lost, and gaind but only sight of her, deerer to me then millions of in∣ioyings of Kingdomes were they offer'd me, while I must still want her, who being too too rich a prize for man, or Earth, is calld away, and only Heauen fit for her, she doth inioy that place, Hells tormenting furyes lying still in me, shee's dead, deere loue and perfect beauty ending with her. But by your fa∣uour said Leonius, I should lesse lament her losse since she was an others, then had shee beene mine owne in part, what is an others treasure to mee? but more, what is the griefe to see that which my selfe most loueth and coueteth, to be possest by an other? the possession would so much afflict me, as the se∣cond losse would neuer trouble me. You assuredly Sir (said he) are no louer, if one, but a faint one, and such an affecter as gaine is your loue, nor can losse trouble you, for you being a selfe louer, loue but for your owne ends, if they be denyed the loue remoues to an other place, as we of our profession, if our Trade faile in one Country, we transport, and transplant to an other; but loue can haue on such liberty, remoues are not suffered there, one place con∣taines the scope of one mans loue, and my hart is the staple of fruitlesse Con∣stancy. Thus he lamented, telling Leonius that that place pleased him best, because he could from thence view Corinth, or part of that where his affecti∣on liued in life, and death. The Prince then tooke his leaue of him, and ta∣king Shipping arriued on the other side, and shortly at the Court, which was held at Corinth; great content was shewed generally in all mens eyes, and their hearts did answere it, the Ladyes were glad because they all loue'd him as a braue young Prince, and receiued from him the assurance of their seruants well-fare, but long he stayed not, carrying Veralinda his deerest selfe to her father into Frigia; this gaue fit opportunity to Pamphilia to desire leaue also to visit her Country, which with much importunity was granted her, but first she resolued to go•• into Arcadia to find Siluiana, drinke the water with her, and then visite Pamphilia. These delicate, and matchles La∣dyes tooke their way leauing the Court like the Skye when the Starrs only shine, and the nights fairest light appeareth not: in this voyage they shall be left, being time for Bellamiras iourny to be spoken off. After she had proui∣ded her selfe of all necessaries fit for her, she trauelled towars Saint Maura, arriuing there within short time being neither hindred by wind not ad∣uenture; her Father shee found, and her finding him gaue such ioy to the aged Lord, as he thought all those passed yeares renued againe in youth in him. Quickly she got him thence leauing that place only possess'd with the

richnesse of well wishes, both of his and all that know it, especially those who had receiued the excellent benefit of forgetfulnes in it. At their returne into Dalmatia, the King hearing of his arriuall sent vnto him, intreating his presence, which he obayed, his Daughter going with him, and both re∣ceiuing all honour from his Maiestie; hee looking on her, as one would doe on a faire field after the Corne is reaped, so was the haruest of his affection to her passed. There she met a Gentleman in good place then vnder the King, who had formerly serued and beene Gentleman of the horse to her yet loued loue; this Gentleman out of old acquaintance and beloued fami∣liarity, brake somewhat boldly with her concerning her affection, the con∣tinuance of it, and lastly whether she would bee so kind as to accept of his loue againe if he•• offered it, assuring her that hee was in far better estate for his affections returning to her, then she seemed to credit. Much shee mar∣uelled at this discourse, and his new boldnes, who had neuer before aduen∣tured to speake of it in all his time of happines; feare shee might haue done but that she weighed his honesty, neuer in any thing touched, being alwai••s held, and found a sinceere man, and iust; yet so finely she carried her selfe as she found by him he had commission to say what hee did, yet not to let it be knowne, she would not be too busie, but answered them as she thought fit∣test, concluding vpon much vrging, that no earthly blessing could bee such to her as his loue, and the returne of it. He only smild, and bid her take heed she was not the losse of it. She was so wary, and her former beloued, and louing Lord so passionate, as quickly they were as once they were, no iniu∣ries pass'd remembred, no recounting of pass'd vnkindnesses, but as if only absence had held them assunder, so meeting made their loues as at the be∣ginning, happines aboue it selfe, and this shee felt, going soone after to her owne house, whither her father went, and her loue, with many others, no ioy nor content like theirs. Her Father was called againe to serue the King, and made Marshall of Dalmatia; thus Dettareus is againe a Knight, and Bella∣mira once more contented, which she shall continue, but Dettareus must be yet punnished for his former fault and offence. Pamphilia being in Arcadia went to seeke her friend and companion as she call'd her in her sorrowes, but as she pass'd along those pleasant plaines, remembring that she had seen them in her flourishing time of fortune, and when she was richer in blessings then they in plenty, fuller of happines then they of sweetnes, more ioyfull, and hopefull then they delightfull or greene, O Playnes cry'd shee, how doth constancy protect, and gard you in delicasie? how doe miseries change, and wither me? deere Arcadia I loue you yet because my constancy suits with yours, pitty me then that pines in that vertue, and if euer I see you decaying I will waile with you.

A lasse, heere haue I breath'd my blessings among you, now must I reueale my losses, yet continue as you were, and I shall thinke misfortune only re∣serued for mee as best, or fittest to deserue mischeife; yet deere, I loue thee still, though faine would blame (as iustly) thy vnkindnes, but loue forbids me, & I must for truths sake in loue suffer all without condemning; cruell yet I may call thee, and thou hast no cause to blame mee for that, for thine owne soule tels thee I speake truth, mend then or kindly with more violence end me. The groue she then arriued at, where sitting downe hard by, where

first she met Siluiana, here said she once liued a poore true forsaken louer to, her I come to finde, and with her conclude my dayes, then behoulding those places, and her thoughts more perfectly setting them selues before her eyes, which as the streme she made her glasse, she with many sorrowfull sighs, and deepe groanes vttered this Sonnet.

LOsse my molester at last patient be, And satisfied with thy curst selfe, or moue Thy mournefull force thus oft on periurd loue, To wast a life which liues by mischeifes fee.

Who will behould true misery, ve••w me, And find what wit hath fain'd, I fully proue; A heauen-like blessing chang'd throwne from aboue, Into Dispaire, whose worst ill I doe see.

Had I not happy beene, I had not knowne So great a losse, a ••ing depos'd, feeles most The torment of a Throne-like-want, when lost, And vp must looke to what late was his owne.

Lucifer downe cast, his losse doth grieue, My Paradice of ioy gone, doe I liue?

Yes I doe liue, cry'd she, but to what end? only to mourne, lament, and m••ane a state all pitty wants, since musing in that place from whence it clay∣med is by due. Would I could not accuse thee, yet my loue is such, as I would rather blame my selfe then thee, deere, this I must not doe, for then my merrit so small could not aske reward, I still am iust, and purely loue thee. O werr thou but vnstaind for thine owne worths sake, my soule doth wish it thee, though thou were cruell still. Among the trees and bushes then she walked•• plucking of flowers which adorned their roots, and then as a little higher thoughts did rise, she saw inscriptions in the barke, and vnder them left some of hers, to witnesse her distresse, where she found the letters intwined of Alatina, and her loue, she vnder them set hers, and her deere loue: thus spent she some howers till a pleasant tune, and ioyfull voyces called her a little from her sadnesse; going to the edge of the Groue, shee perceiued a great troupe of Shepherds of all ages, the young men with flowers on their heads, the old with Iuy, then came a dainty creature shee might thinke to be Siluiana, but loathe she was to imagine, she, or any wor∣thy woman would change, nor indeed was willing to thinke her the same, but some other delicate Lasse, but at last she was forced to confesse it was Alarina, and so she thought Siluianas vow was still vnviolated. This woman came crowned with Roses, led between two fine Shepherd youths, after her followed all the Shepherdesses apparelld neatly, & finely after their custome. She admired them, and gazed like men on a miracle, yet resolu'd not to stir, nor discouer her selfe, commanding only one of her trusty seruants, to watch what the conclusion would be, who brought her word that they were all

entred the Temple, and that it was for the solemnizing of A••arinas wed∣ding. Alasse said she, can there not liue two canstant women all at one time? yet Pamphilia be thou still iust, and though but thy selfe, and so alone to suf∣fer glory in such martyrdome. Home shee then went, thinking Alarina no companion for her, when she was in her Chamber looking out of her win∣dow vpon the Gardens she had vsed to breath her passions of ioy, as often as of paine in, alasse cry'd she, why doe all my old friends as it were turne the hand of my wretched Dyall, to make me see my vnfortunate houres by? I will said she, leaue these enemy-turnd-friends, and goe into my owne Country, where at least I may finde new, and vnknowne places, though perhaps no more easefull, yet before I goe, I will see Alarina, and so what change that change hath wrought in her. Then gaue she order to the offi∣cers to prouide for her iourney to Pamphilia, and commanded the same ser∣uant of hers, to find out Alarina, and desire her to attend her in the Garden walks. This was performed, & the sweet Shepheardesse attended the Queen, who taxing her for her lightnesse in change, thus answered her. Braue Queen said she, I confesse this most true that you haue said, if onely truth in stead∣fastnes liued heere, but if you will vouc••safe me the hearing, you shall see I am not faulty, though the appearance to your iudging eyes may iudge me so; had I broke my vow, and my vow to truth in leauing Diana, and louing a new loue, I had vnpardonably err'd, but Madam I am free from touch of fault in this, and only Fortune is guilty of all, I was beloued, and lou'd a∣gaine deuoutly, I was forsaken, and for it grieued vnmeasurably; I changed my state in dispaire, tis true, heere was I faulty to change at all, but you ima∣gine my fault is this alteration, no Madam, this is no changing, but a happy returne to my first blessed estate, for had I taken a new loue, I could not haue beene pardoned any more then for refusing my old one when he offered his affection againe: thus am I free, and once more fortunate, for now I haue my loue tyed by his owne, and marriage vowes, neuer such content as requi∣tall of loue brings forth, but yet returning loue exceeds it, and so you will say when you shall find this happinesse, of which I make no question. Would your promises would proue true said Pamphilia, though I then were taxed as I did you with change, but I expect it not, yet sweete Alarina, how did hee preuaile against your resolution? By strong force of loue said shee, for Madam, let vs flatter our selues neuer so much with thought of power, to resist, and set determinations to refuse while wee are alone, or absent from the sight of him, whose charms bewitcheth vs, his sight againe giues life to our first passions, and turnes the strength of our imaginati∣ons to powerful seruants of his will; as the strength of ones body in a hot dis∣ease works against it self: thus experience, the truth of knowledge teacheth vs. I once thought what a foole am I to seeke, where I am reiected, to sue where I am scornd, and petition where I am disdaind; shall I sink to this base∣nes? shal I forget my own merits, and beg of an vngrateful creature, who tri∣umphs in my wrongs? no, I wil let him see, scorne can haue children as truly borne as loue, & those are bred in me. I wil make him see my sencible disliks, and his false eies by my despising them, shall find his error in my truth, and resolutenesse. These braue conceits I liked, and meant to practise: but when I saw him, O me, I was like a thiefe caught in the act, I hung downe my head, a∣sham'd

of mine owne thoughts; I hated my selfe, and pleaded guilty, ready standing to be condemn'd, as I was in his opinion: wee are fine creatures a∣lone in our owne imaginations; but otherwise poore miserable captiues to loue. Flatter not your selfe deere Princesse, for belieue it, the greater your minde is, and the brauer your spirit, the more, and stronger are your passions, the violence of which though diuersly cast, and determined, will turne still to the gouernment of loue; and the truer your subects are to you, the firmer will your loyalty be to him. I grant all this, said Pamphilia, but these things concerne not me further then the gladnesse I haue for your good; since I pro∣test truely that no scorne, nor any cruell course whatsoeuer he can vse, or hath vsed, though to the extremity of ill, could, or shall alter my heart from being his, or from fulnesse of content with all true and affectionate accep∣tance of his loue, if hee would blesse me againe with it. But I cannot hope, my despaire out-weighs all such thoughts, and makes me dryer in losse then blasts doe trees, though they kill them. Alarina stroue to comfort her, assu∣ring her that she could not haue more cause to sorrow & lament then she had had, nor be further from hope or colour of it then she once was; yet said she, now I haue pass'd all those sad misaduentures, and am arriu'd at the happy harbour of enioying. Long may you so be blessed, said Pamphilia, and soone may like blessings befall you, said Alarina: from this they grew to discourse of Poetry, the Shepheardesse saying merry songs of her making, since the turne of fortune, the Queenes continued in the same straines they were of lamentation.

Some dayes were thus passed, till her iourney call'd her thence, when ta∣king leaue of Alarina, the Queene went towards the Shipping all the next Port, and soone after arriu'd in Pamphilia, where no ••ooner the newes of her arriuall was spread; but the people from all parts came to see her, and ioy in her presence, while she ioyed in nothing, nor communed with any but her owne sad selfe, which she cal'd her losse, and passions for it: the sad∣dest places were the most pleasing to her, the solitariest Caues or Rockes her chiefe abiding places, yet she lost not her selfe; for her gouernment con∣tinued iust and braue, like that Lady she was, wherein she shewed her heart was not to be stirr'd, though her priuate fortunes shooke round about her. Leonius this while with his faire Veralinda trauel'd towards Phrygia; where being arriu'd, they sent vnto the King as strangers, to beseech liberty to see him, and to present some things that they knew would be most acceptable to him. He was an excellent wise Prince, and as any, courteous: wherefore he soone consented, and they apparel'd her after the manner of Italy as his Country, and she according to the Greeke fashion for Shepheardesses as ha∣uing had her breeding there, and from those habits would not be altered, till she was receiued as a Princesse. They enter'd the Hall where the King was, being a braue old man, holding as maiesticke a countenance as his state re∣quir'd: Leonius beheld him curiously, thē made this speech vnto him, holding his eyes fix'd on him, & the Lady of his soule by the hand. Great K. of Phri∣gia, whose renown hath spread it selfe vnto all eares, giue your seruant leaue to say this vnto you. I am stranger borne farre hence, son vnto the King of Naples, and brother to Amphilanthus, Emperour of the Romanes, of whom after I had receiued Knighthood, I gained leaue to goe abroad

to try my fortune. Into Morea I went to visit the King thereof, who for my honour, I haue the grace to be his neere Cousin, but in Arcadia, it was my happines (as I hope) to meete this Shepheardesse whose true and loyall ser∣uant I vowed to be, for her sake I chang'd my habits, and from a Knight be∣came a Nimph, with her I conceald, liu'd, she nor any other mistrusting me, for other then my outward shew gaue them cause to thinke me to bee. Still my affection increased, and the daily conuersation made this beautifull crea∣ture affect my company, at last she was by the Kings Shepheard, (whom she had till then taken for her father) sent thence, my selfe discouered to him only went with her into an Iland in the Gulfe of Venice wherein were in∣chanted the greatest, brauest, valiantest men, and the excellentest Ladies of the whole world, by this diuine creature they were released, & the charmes finished. At the cōclusion of thē, a book of gold vpon a Pillar of the same ap∣pear'd, which being taken down & read, therin was found the whole story of this rare Shepheardesse, which brought her to the knowledge that shee is your daughter, & I am hither come as hers, & your humblest seruant to con∣duct her to your presence. The King rose and with moderate ioy kiss'd them both, ioyfull of the newes; yet hauing had so much misfortune, could not but doubt the truth of what was so much desird. She then on her knees de∣liuer'd the Booke vnto him, wherein he found what Leonius had related to be true: the Prince deliuer'd likewise vnto him letters from his brother the Emperour, to desire the marriage. The graue old King heartily reioyced at this blessing, but bore it, as he had done his afflictions, with equall temper; then tooke he Leonius by the one hand, and his daughter by the other, cal∣ling his Lords round about him, to whom hee deliuered these glad newes, withall, the Emperours desire, concludiug, that his consent was gained, and therefore demanded their allowance to the marriage. They consented, and ratified it with full ioy and contentment; then ioyn'd he their hands in that assembly, contracting them, and promising himselfe to accompany them back to Morea, where they should be married as Amphilanthus had intreated, for the honour of the other great Kings and Princesses. Robes of state were soone brought to Veralinda, in which she appear'd like Venus when she won the Apple from the other two Goddesses. Triumphs were presently made, and she proclaim'd heire apparant to the Crowne. Thus was Leonius and Ve∣ralinda made happy with that they most on earth required. A braue Fleete of Ships were straight prepared for their Voyage; feasts continuing till that time in all the Kingdome, ioy now like the Summer flourishing brauely a∣mong them. Amphilanthus hauing bin long enough in Germany, & so lawful an occasion offer'd him for his return into Morea, established Ollorandus, whō he made his Deputy with the Princesse to gouerne in his absence, which hee promised should bee but short, aud his returne speedy, his way he tooke of purpose through Dalmatia, to see the King and the Lady had been offer'd him for wife, being after many aduentures arriued, there hee was enter∣tain'd like himselfe, which is expression enough for the rarest entertain∣ments. Dauncing there was among the Ladies, one appearing as much excelling, as she deseru'd admiration for her beauty and that qua∣lity. All the Kings and Princes beheld her with one fauourable opinion; but Amphilanthus did enquire who she was, and how bestow'd in marriage.

He was informd that she was Daughter to the Master of the horse, married to a great man, but wedded in affection to a young noble-man in the Court, who also had a brother that lik'd her, they both loued her, shee vs'd them both so indifferently, as they could not in two yeares tell whether she loued: The elder doubted the younger, he feard his brother, both were affraid to offend her, and so remain'd vnsatisfied: till at last whether more boldnes, or truer, and cleerer affection grew in the elder, hauing beene beloued, and like∣wise louing one another, though desiring this Lady out of a couetous hu∣mour of enioying all that worthy was in loue, he found it was himselfe shee affected: he embraced it, she then liberally declared her selfe, and so they were both happy. The younger from the first doubting could not be more then formerly, since now he saw but what hee fear'd, and by this might the better auoid a fur••••er danger, which he did choosing an other leauing this couple most contented in themselues, though discontented with many o∣thers; for his other Mistris grew spitefull, his wife froward, and suspitious, her husband iealous and troublesome; yet what were all these? only meanes to make them loue the better, & their loues to be the more pleasing, like stoln fruit, which is alwayes sweetest. In this estate they then were, but the questi∣on may be asked, how these secrets were knowne? it may be easily answer'd, and not vniustly said, that surely it came from the happy louer, who with fulnesse of ioy and content could not be so neere miserablenesse, as to keepe such a treasure hid to kimselfe, and thus doe many times such discoueries come. The Emperour commended them all, and especially the Lady, whose part he was apt to take: the newes of his being there brought Dettareus to kisse his hands, and to see his fellow-Hermite Parselius, with the other two his good companions; but one of them he miss'd, for Dolorindus was gone to Antissia againe. He had not beene long there; when one day the royall as∣sembly being in the Hall, and ready to see dauncing, there came in a graue old man of good fashion and birth, as he after proued, his beard and hayre white, his face something with sorrow and age wrincled, resembling a faire tree in frost: he kneeled vnto the King beseeching iustice; hee promised it, and bound it with an oath, being vrg'd vnto it by this Gentleman; then ri∣sing, Sir (said he) hee that hath done me iniury, and the man I seeke reuenge of, is Dettareus, who I know will not, nor can forget the wrong he did me, which although I will not particularly name, not louing to take vp the ashes of the dead, or staine a long quiet graue with guilt or infamy: I will onely touch thus farre as to remember him of the breach of hospitality, and the noblest band of friendship, in trust; this is that I call reuenge for, and these I must bee satisfied in. The King call'd Dettareus forth, who couered with shamefull sorrow, appear'd like the sonne had rob'd his father of his greatest treasure holding his eyes on the ground, as iustly condemn'd: The King was sorry to see him so deiected, but his word was ingaged; wherefore hee de∣manded of him what he wo••ld answer to this. He replied, that is life was not sufficient to satisfie so foule a fault as he confessed himselfe guilty in; yet he was to answer none for that businesse, since the wrong'd was dead. Dead in∣deed cryed the other to all content, and yet saw his honour dye before him, otherwise Dettareus I am the man iniur'd by you, not kil'd, as you imagin'd, but recouered againe by skilfull Chirurgions from all your blowes, but one

which cannot bee cured, but by the balme of your heart bloud or mine: I therefore desire that you will in the presence of these braue Princes (then be∣fore whom none can haue a noblier end) fight with mee, and honour mee with death, which I assure you shal be as welcome to me as your ouerthrow; we are neither so young as to vndertake a rash businesse, our age hath made vs perfect and free from that, nor are we so old, that death should claime our suddaine yeeldings; let then the life and strength wee haue bee spent before this royall company, and let Iustice at last haue sway. Dettareus casting his eyes vp, beholding him, knew him and wept; yet would not deny what the other demanded; so they went forth and arm'd themselues: the King and all the Court did greatly pitty them, and especially. Dettareus, who appeared already dead to their eyes, kil'd by his owne foretelling ill. Instead of dan∣cing they went into the lists where the strangest Comba•• was fought that e∣uer in Dalmatia was seene; yet did they seeme but like braue old armes of trees, whose fruite was yet faire and good: so was their strength, and the maner of their fight so exact and perfect, as young men had more cause to admire and learne then scorne their skill or courage: but Dettareus though in sight and fight continued a good space with the better; yet a conscience he had gnawed within him, and made his outward powers like an inward ta∣ken poyson, shake and faint, so as the other got the victory and life of Dettar∣reus. This had been hard and much to be lamented, if Iustice came not in to tell vs 'twas her act, and right, which made the Court satisfied, yet did they lament and mourne for his losse, the Emperour, and the other Princes his old friends going with his body to the graue. The other with as much con∣tent as could be for such an accident, where honour was gain'd from the death of an once loued friend, return'd with liberty from the Court; but soone after in Apulia, from whence he strayed, after the certaine tidings of Dettareus liuing was discouer'd, and neuer stayed any where till hee learn'd where he remain'd, hearing his religious life he would not molest him, nor call him out of charity from his Beads to the sword, but like him liued in that manner in S. Maura on a mountaine till he was aduertised by the peo∣ple who dwelled at the foote thereof, and whence hee fetched his food, of his going thence with his daughter, and of his taking armes againe. Then did he againe proue his imitator, and like him vse steele, and so followed his tract, tracing him as men do•• hares in the snow, till hee found him at the Court, the end of which iourney is related, and his own end soone follow∣ed, hauing got enough as he thought, in hauing honour restored, and satis∣faction to his minde. From Dalmatia Amphilanthus and his friends tooke their way towards Morea, where being happily arriu'd, they found the King and his beautifull Court at Corinth, from whence they tooke their iourney to Mattinea, sending to Pamphilia to meete them; but shee humbly excused it to her father, and for the rest, they must beare with her absence. What ioy Meriana, whose heart was only her husbands, felt for his com∣ming, such another, if such there be can onely expresse? Vrania, as a meere louer, Philistella, Selarina, Musalina and Lucenia, was also come from the in∣chantment to accompany Musalina home (who was the best knowing & pra∣ctis'd seruant in passions court) did make testimony of their affectiōs, though seuerally, yet all amorously & contētedly to their seruants, longing only now

for the day of happines which soon follow'd: Leonius & his new father with the beautifull Veralinda comming soon to them. All now but Musalina & Lu∣cenia married women must haue matches by lawfull vowes; but an vnfor∣tunate match held her from a more blessed one, and so she must liue. Am∣philanthus thought Morea was also the Empire of Germany, such a Court he found, and so braue company, as nothing was missing that might yeeld, or nurse content; but except Musalina, the Ladies had little conuersation with him, sometimes his Sister who was as much, and willingly entertained by Steriamus, yet would he, and all of them, speake often of Pamphilia, most wishing her there, while she onely spent her daies in sorrows, which was the Court shee gloried in, her delights, were sadde thoughts, her companions, teares, and groanes, and these liued, and yet still decaied the vnblessed Pam∣philia. Haste was made of the marriages, which were performed with all ioy, and content, such trymuphs being there, as neuer had before beene seene in Morea. Perselina carrying away the honour for the delicatest, sweetest, and brauest Lady of her time; the others, though excellent aboue relation, yet had their times before her, shee being but a blossome sprung late, but as rare, and exquisite as euer any had beene.

The Queene of Bulgaria grew a little better, as company workes on all creatures, and makes the wildest indure mens sight, as Staggs will be tamed, and Lyons abide handling: yet her own nature remain'd with her, and that was an honour to her, for in nothing, nor for any thing one ought to leaue their old familiar acquaintance, till they leaue them, and yet not then nei∣ther, for worthynesse is onely on••s owne, and as neerely toucheth one, as the bone doth the marrow that lyes within it: so this assures her vertue. She vsed all ciuilly, but Amphilanthus respectiuely, and the Prince her ser∣uant, who excceeded all the other of his rancke in dauncing, kindly, and generally all friendly.

But now comes the time for their depart, the Queene of Naples stayed to be conducted home by her Sonne, who first with the Romanian Ladies, Lu∣cenia hauing her old minde to Amphilanthus, went to Negropont to see Anti∣sia, Steriamus, and his most deare Vrania went towards Albania, Selarinus and his most beloued Philistella to Epirus, Antissius and Selarina to Constanti∣nople, Rosindy and his chastly louing, and truely beloued Meriaua, with Per∣selina to Macedon, Parselius with Dalinea to their new Kingdome of Achaia, which (by Leandrus his death, and after his Fathers, who with his losse en∣ded his daies) was falne to them: Philarchos and Orilena to Mytelin, Peris∣sus and Limena stayd with the Queene of Naples by her entrety, till shee went to her Coutrey. Polarchos was made Chamberlaine of the House to the Emperour, aud so attended him, the King of Bulgaria and his great Queene also tooke for Bulgaria, the rest, euery one as their occasions call'd them, so as Morea remain'd bare like a roome after a great feast, the guests being gone, looking as vnfurnished, the braue rich furniture gone out of it: and thus was poore Morea. The Queenes of Naples and Cicely kept alwaies to∣gether, and neuer failed walking in the sweet woods, once inriched with Pamphilia, and her loue; there they passed the time together, telling stories of themselues, and others, mixed many times with pretty fine fictions, both being excellently witty, and the Queene of Naples rare in Poetry, which

Limena loued though she were none of the writing number her selfe. But one day they would needes haue Perissus with them into the Forrest to hunt after their manner which was but in a Charriot, while sometimes with cros∣sing they met the Deere. In this dayes sport it happened to them that they lighted on the same Groue, and place, where Pamphilia had first found Sil∣uiana, the place inuited them to stay in it, the stay procured dainty imagina∣tions, they as delicate expressions, which made, and gaue birth to these Ver∣ses framed by the most incomparable Queene, or Lady of her time, a Nigh∣tingale most sweetly singing, vpon which she grounded her subiect.

O That I might but now as senselesse bee Of my felt paines, as is that pleasant Tree, Of the sweet musique, thou deare Byrd dost make, Who I imagine doth my woes partake. Yet contrary we doe our passions mooue, Since in sweet notes thou dost thy sorrowes prooue. I but in sighs, and teares, can shew I grieue, And those best spent, if worth doe them beleeue. Yet thy sweet pleasures makes me euer finde That happinesse to me, as Loue is blinde, And these thy wrongs in sweetnesse to attire, Throwes downe my hopes to make my woes aspire. Besides, of me th'aduantage thou hast got, Thy griefe thou vtter'st, mine I vtter not. Yet thus at last we may agree in one, I moure for what still is, thou, what is gone.

Perissus protested that he neuer had heard any like them, and in so saying, he did right to them, and her who knew when she did well, and would be vn∣willing to lose the due vnto her selfe, which he gaue her, swearing he neuer heard any thing finelier worded, nor wittilier written on the sudden. Limena would onely desire to haue them, for shee yeelded in that, as in all other things to her Lords iudgement. Vp and downe they walked, the Groue be∣ing so delightfull as gaue content to all, and all sorts of Louers. Going along the Spring they found many knots, & names ingrauen vpon the trees, which they vnderstood not perfectly, because when they had decipher'd some of them, they then found they were names fained and so knew them not. But Perissus remembred one of the Ciphers, yet because it was Pamphilias hee would not knowe it. As they pass'd they saw a handsome, and well cloathed woman, neither walking, running, or staying, but as if she had made a moti∣on of them all, and imployd them to her vanity; shee one while cryed, ano∣ther chafed, smil'd, scratch'd her head, stamp'd, rail'd, and all at Loue; blind foolish thing, said she, be thou for euer hated and abandoned, haue I not better deseru'd of thee then thus to be handled? Must I be a miserable Testimony of thy cruelty, when I merited thy best fauours? I hate thee fro∣ward Childe, and will neuer leaue reuiling thee, till thou doest requite mee, if neuer shame light on thee, and thy Baby gouernment. Haue I beene a qui∣et patient of all thy follies•• Suffered my selfe to fall vnder thy Tyranny

to serue thy wilfulnesse, and obey thy vaine employments? Are these tol∣lerable, or am I not fit to be rewarded? Peeuish Boy, either speedily requite and pacifie me, or be sure to be set forth in thy colours; no Bird beares so various, or seuerall calourd a Plume as thou dost in changeablenesse, which shall not be neglected but set foorth to the life; then Sir it may, you will say I am bitter, but the world shall see that you are vniust. Waiward Babe, I ad∣mire thou hast a face to doe all this withall; 'twas well faign'd at first, that thou hadst no eyes, which indeed is the true face, for thou canst neither see truth, nor be seene truly by it. Vnworthy creature, an inuention fram'd, a thought lighter then thought, a Bubble made by breath in a Shell, blowne by a straw, fired with a frowne, reuiued by a smile, and ruin'd by an neglect, a stately and constant building that breath can destroy, that looke can esta∣blish, or the least of dislike sacke.

In this fury shee would haue persisted, but this Troope had beene, and were Louers, wherefore they went to her, who seem'd like a moouing, or stirring water-worke: she turn'd to them, and from them againe, shee cryd, and groan'd, then scornfully seem'd to defie passion, and with a faint for∣ged countenance would haue appeared sociable. No greater diuersity is there in womens dispositions, (who are richer in that vanity then men) then she had in her selfe, so as good women might hope all the superfluous vanity of that sexe had beene collected, and setled by vncertainty in her. The Queene of Naples intreated Perissus to speake to her, he did so, she answr'ed iust like her demeanour, at last the Queenes drew neerer to her, and deman∣ding some questions of her, she answer'd them thus. I am said shee a Gen∣tlewoman, though vngently vsed by Loue, my name not worthy of Know∣ledge, my estate ouerthrowne by mifortune, my friends not to be named as being vnfit to consanguinate with miserie, and indeed, such a wretched for∣lorne soule as I am, onely the shaddow of that, kind men most contemne, but for their owne sakes, and necescities sometimes respect. I haue most of my time beene among those of highest ranke, but meanest requitall, else I had not thus suffered; I am a cast-downe-wretch, not worthy of life, or your presence, let me then on these reasons petition departure, you shall be noble in granting, and I happy in being permitted my owne course.

Limena well liked this odd manner in her, and would not licence her to be freed from them, but desired to heare more; for, said shee, I haue beene as you are afflicted, and neuer felt more felicitie then in discoursing my woes, besides, I see you are apt to discouer your passions to these places, why not then as well to vs, who are, and euer will be sensible of passion? She lookd vpon her, and with a noise betweene sighing, and long breathing scorning directly to sigh, she answered her, that shee should haue what shee sought. Then said the Queene, I desire to know your losse, your despiser, aud yet di∣slike. It is this said she, I loued a Gentleman, who was brother to the Dutches I seru'd, hee loued me, and swore it, (perfidious man) I belieued him, and granted what he asked; he made of me as we doe of the best fortunes, and was contented with nothing so much as with my Loue, nor did I ioy, or indeed glory, in any thing but his affection: this vndid mee, and I a poore yeelded creature, and spoiled by him, remaind the poore Trophy of his vi∣ctory, and my losse. I sought yet long time, after I writ to him both in Verse

and prose, but alike to his vnderstanding, and alike taken and receiu'd. Hee remembred my kindnesses and thank'd me, but yet rewarded them no fur∣ther, like a King that takes a Present and likes it, but thinks it was his Sub∣iects due to present it, and so meanes not to reward the bringer, scarse the giuer: no more did he, for I was both giuer, and bringer, and yet as one cast off, and forlorne. I vrg••d Faith, and constancy, hee confest it with faire words, but alas, his rewards were miserable and dry. I then after a long and most laborious suit and toyle to winne, or rather keepe but part what I once had had, recouer'd not so much as dammages, but all lay still on me. I then writ some Verses to him, which I haue in memory, hauing made them vpon the subiect of many vnhappy Women, but bringing them all to my sadd e∣state, the Verses are long and teadious, therefore if you please, I will let them passe, and continue my discourse. Nay I pray (said the Queene) let vs haue them, and the story too, we haue time enough for both, and no time being able to be better spent, we can affoord the euening into the bargaine, rather then misse such a relation. Then Madam, said shee, when I saw no merit, no loue, no remembrance, nor any thing could worke against a newe choice which he had made, I framd these lines as my last peece, resoluing if they preuailed not to let all goe, and fall to the resolution, or indeed, more properly, distraction I am now in, the Lines be these.

DEare, though vnconstant, these I send to you As witnesses, that still my Loue is true. Receiue these Lines as Images of Death, That beare the Infants of my latest breath, And to my tryumph, though I dye in woe, With welcome glory, since you will it so, Especially, my ending is the lesse, When I Examples see of my distresse. As Dido, one whose misery was had By Loue, for which shee in Deathes robes was clad; Yet lost shee lesse then I, for I possest And loue enioy'd, she lik'd, what was profest Most cruell, and the death-lik'st kind of ill, To lose the blessing of contentments will. Faire Ariadne neuer tooke more care, Then I did how you might in safety fare, Her thrid my life was to draw you from harme, My study wholly how I might all charme That dangerous were, while pleasures you optain'd, And I the hazard with the labour gain'd: Yet shee this his life sau'd, he her honor lost, That false Prince Theseus flying, left her crost With his abandoning her truth, and loue Leaning her desolate, alone to proue His Loue, or ••••ded, or but giuen for neede, Caus'd her with misery to gaine that meed.

I Ariadne am alike oppress'd, Alike deseruiug, and alike distress'd: Vngratefull Demophon, to Phillis faire A Thracian Lady, causs'd by like dispaire, Or greater farr, for after feruent loue, In which bless'd time he freely still did proue: What is desir'd, or lou'd, he left this Queene And bliss, for a lesse Kingdome which had beene Before his fathers, aud by reason right, For Theseus was his Sire that King of spight. Thus did he both inherit state, and ill, While Phillis selfe, her louely selfe did kill, Making a Tree her Throne, a Cord the end Of her affections, which his shame did send. I strangled am, with your vnkindnes choak'd While cruelty is with occassions cloak'd. Medea Witch, with her enchanting skill Did purchas•• what was craued by her will, Yet was by Iason left at last, which showes Loue only free from all bewitching blowes. But his owne witchcraft, which is worst of ills, Neuer absenting till all ioy it spills. Charms it may be, with-held you now from me, Breake through them, leaue that Circes so oft free, The Syr••ns songe, Calypso••s sweete delights And looke on faith, which light is of true lights. Turne backe the eyes of your chang'd heart, and see How much you sought, how fo••dly once sought me, What trauell did you take to win my loue? How did you sue that I as kind would proue? This is forgot as yesterdayes lik'd sport, Loue winning lasting long, once won proues short. I like Penelope haue all this time Of your absenting, let no thought to clime In me of change, though courted, and pursu'd By loue, perswasions, and euen fashons rude Almost to force extending, yet still she Continued constant, and as I am free. Ten yeares a cause was for Vlisses stay While Troy bes••iged was, but then away Was homeward bent by all, saue him who stayd, And ten yeares more on forraine beautyes pray'd. Against his will, he oft his will enioyed. And with variety at last was cloy'd. Chainge wearyed him, when weary he return'd, And from his wandring then to staydnes turn'd. Come you now backe, I thus inuite you home, And loue you, as if you did neuer roame:

I haue forgot it as if neuer done, And doe but thinke me a new to be wone. I shall appeare, it may be, as I did, And all passd falts shall in my breast be hid, Try me againe, and you shall truely find, Where fairenesse wanteth, clearenes of a minde; Fairer, and richer then the masse of all Their persons, which from me haue made you fall, If ioyn'd together, and from thence to frame A minde of beauteous faith, fit for the name Of worthy Constancy inrich'd with truth, Which gaue me to you, and so held my youth In young desires, still growing to your loue, Nourish them now, and let me your loue proue. Leaue the new powerfull charms of strangers tongus, Which alwayes truth with their faire falshood wrongs. Come backe to me, who neuer knew the plot To crosse your minde, or to thy will an nott: Come, I say, come againe, and with Vlisses Enioy the blessings of your best blisses; Happy the comfort of a chaste loues bed, Blessed the pillow that vpholds the head Of loyall louing, shame's the others due, Leaue those for me who cannot be but true. Come, and giue life, or in your stay send death To her that liues in you, else drawes no breath.

What bands had you to tye you thus much, said the Queene of Naples? bands of faith in me, and vowes from him of zealous truth said she, priuately made to me, and for greater satisfaction giuen before witnesses for marriage, which made me (foolish, & confident) trust, & yeeld, & now wander, lament, and pine. The Queenes pittied her, and promised their helps to assist her. She thank'd them, but answerd, none but loue had iniur'd her, and ••on•• els could, or should helpe her: so she as strangely went on, and from them as wildly she had come to them, they returning home, she walking & breathing in distem∣bers. At last resoluing to go to Pamphilia, offer her seruice to the Queen, who euer from her iufancy lou'd and trusted her, & was hindred from her compa∣ny, & attendance; by reason, or rather this folly in affection which had power to make her dissist from all resolutions how fit or worthy, to please that, the most vaine, and troublesome of any. Now she could discerne her errour, but how? as if she lookt into a glasse, and behinde her saw her miserie, which to her face abusd her: so her passed time had wrong••d her, neuer to be righted or cleered, if not by death, forgetfulnes, or charity. The Queen Pamphilia re∣ceiued her with all kindnes, & with her she liud as in her former daies in much respect, and vs'd with all courtesie, the better being ioyned, and more accep∣table, because neerest agreeing with her passions, and miseries, as shee calld them, and indeed were, for none can be compared to forsaken loue.

Nerena was left in miserable state, imprison'd in a Towre, locked vp in conceit of maddnesse, and made a poore, imagined distracted creature

where she was absolute Princesse; little Iustice was in this, yet she as a woman must suffer, although in time be released, as shee at last was, and now is the houre come for her safety. Her Sister, as you heard, went to try the Inchant∣ment, in her absence, desire of change, and so hope of liberty (as most times is gain'd in absence of the Prince) grew among the people, but most lay in the breast of a noble man, whose conscience, one may well say, slept qui∣etly from troubling his businesse till now hee had awaked it, protesting that the wrong done to Nerena concern'd them all, and lay alike, to his imagi∣nation, in their hearts as in his, which moou'd him to vrge restitution, and submission, with establishing her in her former gouernment, their latter Prin∣cesse being but to succeed her Sister, and the iniury done to her who ought to reigne, besides, what follies did liue in her, more, and not as amply abounding as in the elder, & their rightful Lady; besides, as a woman, why should she not be permitted both her vanity, & the nature of her Sexe, their fidelity to their late Master was lost, their loyalty to Succession forgot, the oath to truth bro∣ken, & they guilty to all foule. Treasons, hauing deposd their Princess, and e∣stablished another, whose merit were not far beyond their own Mistrisses, nor whose staid worth ought to claime too strickt an obedience, wher right chal∣lenged the contrary. He was a great man welbeloued, infinitly followed, fea∣red, & therfore cheerish'd, he swayed much, and so far proceeded, as hee with the rest of the Counsel, fetched Nerena forth, solemnly againe establish'd her had pardons for all things past, & all was made vp with a kind & gratious cō∣clusion, she by her poore liuing, and neglect being now inuested in so staid an habitation of grauity, as she was fit for the honour they recalld her to; her si∣ster shee prouided for, but she returnd no more, but with a young Prince shee grew so enamourd of, although a married man, stole away & ended, so as her friends did desire all good people should forget her, or that she neuer had bin; thus may you see that none can run so far that shall not haue some time to re∣turne, nor any how much soeuer condemn'd but may liue to be fit of commi∣seration, and respect; this was verified in her, & she deserud their due restoring her proouing an excellent Gouerness, and braue Lady, being able to ouerrule her old passions, & by thē to iudge how to fauor, licence, & curb others, & this exp••rience, though late, is most profitable to Princes. Amphilanthus with the braue, & once hating, now louing Ladies, comming to Negropont, were by Do∣lorindus & Antissia infinitly welcom'd and feasted, yet Antissia was not well∣plesed, for although she had directly lost the loue she most prized, yet somuch she lou'd him stll, as she was sorry he should do amisse, which she did cōfes he did in leauing Pamphilia sor Musalina. Alas, said she, most excellent Lady did not I fortell your harme; yet I protest I am truly sorry for this, and wish I had said false, so you had still beene bless'd, it was not my fortune to be happy in what I most sought, yet wish I you had inioyed what your worth and con∣stancy had merited; no enuy I beare to you, nor euer did, but to my dest••ny which would not fauor me. Of purpose shee would vrge discourse of her, which the Empe••or tooke wel enough, and was contented so far with it, as to think of her, and at last resolu'd to see her; but one day walking alone in a de∣licate walk of Birches, set by art vpon the top of a hil, both sides being sowed with wheat. Haruest not yet being come, though the corn ripe for it, hee be∣held the euen & perfect growing of them.

Can we (said he) possibly be as euen in our owne brests to truth as these things which are sowed, or set by our hands? No, and for our shame our own works, must wittnesse against vs; for, I confesse, I haue done amisse, and a∣gainst her, deserued best of me for loue, and constancy, and yet none haue I payed with so much neglect, I am faulty, but I will mend, and she I hope wil pardon. Sweet Corne (said he) when the wind stirrs, how doe your heads bend humbly that way you are blowne? how euenly, equally, and patient∣ly hath she borne my neglects? I will giue satisfaction, and she shall bee re∣quited. As he walked thus, he heard a Ladd pipe meerily, on a Pipe he had made of one of the stalkes of Oates, not farre off growing; he stayd to heare him, and when he thought he had done, went toward him, desiring to heare some thing; which, though low in respect of his vnderstāding, yet would now be pleasing to his passions, as he drew neerer to him, he heard him vse these words. Loue, since thou art thus gratefull, be thou euer blessed, I now am sorry I did call thee ill, I doe repent that I did thinke thou hadst beene way∣ward or vngratefull: all is passd, and I doe pardon craue. Ile sing vnto thy praise, as I did cry agaiust thee; Ile make songs, in thy honour, as I did in reuiling thee; Ile sweare thou art alone worthy, and fit to be honour••d, as I lately vow'd thou wert the onely Serpent, and hatefull humor to be cheeri∣shed: If humble submission can merit fauour, I will gaine it of thee; if not punish me aud spare not, for I must, and doe confesse I am guilty, and deserue more ill then thy noblenesse will inflict on any, giue me my freedome from thy fauours, and I wil euer be thy vassell for it. Then tooke he vp his sling & walked a litle farther, that being his weapon to defend himself, and to molest the Birds or other enemies to his charge in that delicat Corne. Amphilanthus thus followed a farre off, as hope doth despairing Louers: when he saw him sit downe againe, and take vp his Pipe, then againe proceede in his commen∣dations of Loue, and then sing. The Emperour liked that humor well, wishing he might haue the like cause to praise that passion; vpon which hee was pleased to make most excellent•• Verses, and then return'd to the Court. Musalina and Lucenia whose humble submission had gain'd pardon and loue in some kinde had them, as they had most he had written, but still his minde ran on his iourney, not doubting of his welcome, yet knowing his fault wish∣ed the first encounter passed. Musalina took her leaue to returne into Romania, much sorrow was for parting, but those things are so vsuall, as the relation were like telling a tale so often till all eares were tyred with it. Musalina in her iourney had as many seuerall thoughts as loue could bring forth; some∣times suspition came, then anger, and reuenge followed, yet these were salued againe with hope, and trust; She was grown likewise a Poet as being a neces∣sary thing, and as vnseparable from a witty louer as loue from youth: When she arriu'd at home, the poore trees felt the cruelty which she said was inflict∣ed on her; sad rimes came often into her thoughts, some of her own, others of Amphilanthus his making on parting, and of diuers others, contenting her selfe, or rather forcing content to be shewed, when no remedy was, her loue being gone, and which was worse in a kinde neuer to returne, which gaue forme to these lines following a great drought being in that Country, and e∣uery one wishing for raine.

Why doe you so much wish for raine, when I, Whose eyes still showring are, stand you so nig••? Thinke you that my poore eyes now cannot lend You store enough? alas, but rightly bend Your looks on me, and you shall see a store Able to moisten Earth, and ten earths more: Sighs to make Heauen as soft as tender wooll, And griefe sufficient to make vp the full Of all despaires, then wish not, since in me Contained are teares, griefe, and misery.

Many times she would goe to the solitary woods, and grieue there freely crying out her woes; but all return'd alike to her for gaine or reward; for how can helpe be now expected? only absence will assist, and that at last in this distrest Lady preuailed, wherein she was happy, though many sad daies and nights passed before the cure could be wrought, Time being for this dis∣ease the best Phisition. Amphilanthus tooke his way towards Pamphilia, taking with him only twelue Knights, whom hee chose, and his and their Squires; them he inioyned not to disclose him, nor cal him any other then the Iust in hope: Pamphilia, not hoping for any redresse, was one day in cer∣taine walkes with her ancient friend, and seruant the Lady, who the Queenes met in such di••order for loue, and was the same Lady that was so pleasant with Steriamus when he was passionate for Pamphilia, she was called Dorili∣na, then who there was not a discreeter, though a true louer. As they wal∣ked, discoursing of their loues and torments for it, Dorolina besought the Queene to honour her with the repeating of some of her verses. Shee an∣swer'd, she was growne weary of rime, and all things but that which weari∣ed her life; and yet for cruelties sake would not take it. Shee would not bee answer'd so, but vrg'd her againe, hoping to take her this way something from her conrinuall passions, which not vtter'd did weare her spirits and waste them, as rich imbroyderies will spoyle one another, if laid without papers betweene them, fretting each other, as her thoughts and imaginati∣ons did her rich and incomprable minde: but as yet Dorolina could not pre∣uaile for the part of Poetry; yet she gain'd so much, as Pamphilia sate downe and told her this tale, faigning it to be written in a French Story.

There was, said she, in France for many years, many Kings, that Country being diuided into seuerall Kingdomes; seuerall Nations there were likewise which spake different languages, some of these had Kings, the others onely Princes; but in successe of time, all came happily vnder the rule and gouern∣ment of one King, care onely had then by marriages to make a perpetuall vnion, which onely length of time could doe: among these marriages there was one, from which grew both good, and ill, a braue young Lord of the Ile of France, second sonne to a famous Nobleman, and one who had great imployment vnder the King, being counted the brauest man of the King∣dome, was by the meanes of a brother in Law of his, married to a great Heyre in little Brittany, of rich possessions. This Lady was wooed & sought by many, one she affected and so much loued, as she was contented to thinke

him worthy to be her husband, and so for worth, hee was. Miserably hard her father kept her, and close; yet so much liberty she gain'd, as she had al∣most tyed her selfe neuer but by death to be released; yet her fortunes were not meant thus to be disposed of; for her father dying, and she thinking she was a little, or much neglected by her first seruant, who came not accor∣ding to appointment to attend her, she chang'd her minde, and gaue her selfe to valiant & louely Bersindor the Frenchman, leauing the other, as he had her at home to learne better breeding. Into France she came, where she was by Bersindors father and mother cherished with all affection, and loue; her hus∣band kinde, and as respectiue as she merited, many faire and sweet children they had to their comforts and their friends, and so bred they were, as all companies coueted their presence, being like sweet delights to sad eyes. The eldest daughter was called Lindamira, shee was so much fauour'd by the Queene of France, as by no meanes she must be absent frō the Court, which indeed was the fittest place for her, being a Lady of great spirit, excellent qualities, and beautifull enough to make many in loue with her; but shee lo∣ued onely one, and that one she had loued many years before any mistrusted it, or himselfe knew it. Hee was likewise fauoured by the Queene Mother, whose husband dead, had leysure to bestow her eyes vpon the loueliest ob∣iect, and this Lord was well enough contented, spending his time after his owne desire. Lindamira serued th•• Queene faithfully, and so affectionately, as she had no loue but them two of either Sexe; yet was she carefull to giue no dislike to her mistris, whom she would not iniure, or indeed at that time her selfe, for she was married, he not thinking that it was himselfe she loued, though he knew she was somewhere bound in those fetters. A carefull eye he carried ouer her, not that it appear'd he loued her much more then as her deserts, which her noble and free carriage deserued; yet he was desirous to finde her loue. Once he thought it was the husband of a Lady, she had made her chosen friend; but after he found the contrary, to his owne com∣fort; for the Queene, how well assur'd soeuer she was, or rather might haue beene of her fidelity; yet loue she knew had commanded her, who borne a Princesse, and match'd to a King, yet could not resist his power, might with greater ease soueraignize ouer a subiect: but in Loues Court all are fellow-subiects; and thus her Maiesty was deceiued in her greatnesse, which could not, as she thought, be subiect: and therefore, though others must be Vassals when they are all companions aud serue alike. This suspition was first put into her minde by a malicious Lady, who enuyed sweet Lindamira; but so was it beleeued and follow'd by the Queen, as all her fauour was withdrawn as suddenly and directly, as if neuer had: Lindamira remaining like one in a gay Masque, the night pass'd, they are in their old clothes againe, and no ap∣pearance of what was; she yet was grieued to the heart because she truly lou'd her mistris, as her disgrace went further then only discontent for the losse, or the note the world might take of it, which must like their reports be wiped away, or washed like linnen, which would bee as white againe as euer. But these pierced her heart, and she was inly afflicted, at all times shee neuerthe∣lesse attended, neuer failing her duty, yet desirous to know the cause of this her misfortune: She imploy'd many to moue the Queene, only to know why she was offend••d, that if she were guilty she might aske forgiuensse, and make humble submission, but this would not serue, she poore Lady ignorant of the

cause, desired the Lord for whom she suffer'd to doe the like for her; hee did, but return'd as the others did to her, telling her the Queenes answer was, that she should not know the cause, therfore willed her to be satisfied with that, & with knowledge that she was, and had iust cause to bee off••nded. Lindamira then asked leaue to retire, she had permission, and withall her Maiesty, when she gaue her her hand to kisse (which fauour she was contented to allow her) she told her she should doe well to stay till she was sent for. She humbly, & with teares in her eyes answer'd she would obey, and so shee departed going home, and soon after with a husband like her last fortune, went to liue with him, whither soone came all her friends to visite her, and by him were nobly entertain'd. The Lord, whom she so much lo••ed, and was accused for, like∣wise came with that Lady her deare friend: among many discourses they fell vpon this of her disgrace; Lindamira saying, that the thing it selfe did not now so much afflict her, as the ignorance of it: None (said he) that dares tell you the cause, knowes it, and some that do, dare not. What should feare them said she? if mistrust of my secresie, I will giue them cause to take away that suspition of weaknes in me, other reason I cannot guess••: if I should goe fur∣ther, said he, you might imagine me one could tell. I am verily p••rswaded of that, said she. But I feare your displeasure, said he. Why (said Lindamira) con∣cerning none but poore me, how can any thing trouble you? It may be, said he, it toucheth others, and so much as yo•• will hate them for suffering for them. I haue no reason for that, said shee, though it may be I shall bee angry with my selfe for giuing cause. Then (said he) with your pardon, I will tell you that, I am inioyned not to let you of any know, to secrecie I will not binde you, for the businesse it selfe hath power to doe that, wherewith the friend Lady rose, and he proceeding told her all that had passed, but now (said he) I feare you will hate me for this. Pardon me my Lord, answer'd she, I am onely sorry that you should suffer for me, so vnworthy of your fa∣uour, but for being offended, I protest I loue her displeasure, since shee hath honour'd me with this worthy opinion, rather then I lou'd her greatest grace, & more noble is my fall, then my time of fauor was, he did not it seemed lose that opportunity, nor was she nice to let him know her long loue, expressions of it, and embracing affections wanted of neither side; what happines this was to sweet Lindamira that constant woman, if such an other there be who lou'd fiue years vndiscouer'd, & then on such an vnlook'd for occasion reuealed so great a secret, may iudge, this shewed a strange happines to befal them, that a iealous woman whose doubt of losse brought her losing & Lindamira's gain: thus you may see the effects of that base humor: but alas, what succeeded all this? your fortune, deare Dorilena, and mine, for after she had lost the Queens fauour, indured an vnquiet life, & miserable crosses from her husband pos∣sessed with like, or more furious madnes in iealousie, her honor not touched, but cast downe, and laid open to all mens toungs and eares, to be vsed as they pleas'd. Lastly, after fou••teen years vnchang'd affection, she cast her off con∣temptuously and scornfully, she complain'd, which complaint, because I lik'd it, or rather found her estate so neere agree with mine, I put into Sonnets, this course I might call vngratefulnesse in him, and giue all ill names to it; but I will with the story conclude my rage against him; for thus the Booke leaues her, the complaint is this diuided into seauen Sonnets.

Lindamira's Complaint.

1.

DEare eyes farewell, my Sunne once, now my end, While your kinde willing grace I felt, all ioy In soule I knew withdrawne, you now destroy. The house that being gaue to loues best friend.

You now alas to other obiects bend That warmth of blisse which best delights enioy, Striuing to win an oft won idle toy, By falshood nurs'd, such creatures seldome mend.

Try your new loues, affect the choyce of store, And be assur'd they likewise will choose more, Which I yet grieue; for though the losse I beare.

I would haue none with you to challenge right; But beare you must for making choyce so light: Yet still your beames Ile loue, shine you elsewhere.

2.

O Deadly rancour to a constant heart, Frownes•• and neglect, my only fauours be: Sometimes a cold respect is granted me; But hot flames to those eyes ioy in my smart.

Once yet for Iustice sake weigh my hard part, In gratefulnesse I should kinde vsage see; For being tied alone to you, els free, Till by your wrongs now ioynd with heart-broke s••ar••.

A glorious triumph you no doubt shall haue, To crowne your victory on murders graue, While falshood beares the armes my life hath won.

I onely for twise seauen yeares loue shall gaine Change, worse then absence, or death's cruelst paine: The last yet got, you haue your labour done.

3.

A Surgeon I would aske, but 'tis too late, To stay the bleeding wound of my hurt heart:

The roote is toucht, and the last drops depart As weeping for succeeding others fate.

Alas that my kild heart should waile my state, Or leisure haue to thinke on ought but smart, Nor doth it, but with pitie beare a part, With her` embrac'd yours like a louing mate.

But now unmarried by a new disdaine Cold death must take the body from her loue And thou poore heart must end for my unworth.

Conscience is lost, and outward fairenes gaines The place where worth did, or else seemd to moue, Thus world like change new triall still brings forth.

4.

O Memorie, could I but loose thee now, At least learne to forget as I did moue My best, and onely thoughts to waite on loue, And be as Registers of my made vow.

Could I but let my mind to reason bow, Or see plaine wrongs, neglects, and slightings proue In that deare Sphear, which as the Heauens aboue I prizd, and homage to it did allow.

Canst thou not turne as well a Traitor too Since Heauen-like powers teach thee what to doo? Canst not thou quite forget thy pleasures past;

Those blessed houres, the onely time of blisse, When we feard nothing but we time might miss•• Long enough to enioy what's now off cast.

5.

LEaue me vaine Hope, too long thou hast possest My mind, made subiect to thy flattring skill, While Aprill mornings did my pleasures fill, But cloudy dayes soone changd me from that rest;

And weeping afternoones to me adrest, My vtter ruine framd by Fortunes will, When knowledge said Hope did but breed, and kill, Producing only shadowes at the best.

Yet Hope tis true, thy faults did faire appeare And therefore loth to thinke thou counseldst me Or wilfully thy errors would not see But catch at Sunne moates which I held most deare

Till now alas with true felt losse I know, Thy selfe a Bubble each faire face can blow.

6

THough you forsake me, yet alas permit I may haue sorrow, for my poysn'd crosse; Thinke not, though dead, to ioy I cannot hit Vpon a torture, for my soule-pierc'd losse.

Or if by chance I smile, I hopes ingrosse, Nor for I die not, I doe bliss admit, Most griefe will oft giue leaue for show to toss Vpon the waues, where Shipwra••k'd comfort split.

Thinke then your will, and left, leaue me yet more Vexe not my loathed life, to ruine bent; Be satisfied with glut of your bad change:

Lay me vnthought on, in the loue-kill'd store, My griefe's my owne, or since for you 'tis sent, Let me haue that part from you while you range.

7

SOme doe, perhapts, both wrong my loue, and care, Taxing me with mistrust, and Ielousie, From both which sinnes in loue like freedome, free I liue, these slanders but new raised are.

What though from griefe, my soule I doe not spare, When I perceiue neglect's slight face on me? While vnto some the louing smiles I see, I am not Iealous, they so well doe fare.

But doubt my selfe lest Nesse worthy am, Or that it was but flashes, no true flame, Dazl'd my eyes, and so my humour fed.

If this be iealousie, then doe I yeeld, And doe confesse I thus goe arm'd to field, For by such Iealousie my loue is led:

Dorelina admired these Sonnets, and the story, which shee thought was some thing more exactly related then a fixion, yet her discretion taught her to be no Inquisitor, so home againe they went, the Queene giuing order the next day to hunt a Stag, but she was hindred from that by vnlookt for news, which was, that the young and proud King of Celicia, being her neighbour, her Wooer, and refused by her, would not as it seemd endure the scorne, or goe without her, wherefore he with an inuincible Army, was come neare the confines of her Country, by force to win, what he could not by loue, or faire meanes gaine. But how much was he deceiued in this? for force must not preuaile against such a spirit, if not to bring death for hate, but no affecti∣on or submission, threats can worke with her no more, then to command men to giue resistance. Into a strong Fort by the Sea-side she put her selfe, one Army attending her, another sent to encounter him, led by Melysander. Her Counsell admired her magnamity, she was no more troubled, then if no such thing were, nor could any thing but vnkindnesse, nor from any but him much molest her. She dispatched a Messenger to her father for aide, another to Mi∣telin, and all her friends that were within compasse of helping sudden∣ly; for sudden was the matter, thoughts of loue for all this had their place, as wishes that Amphilanthus would come, but as much was that wish to see him as for helpe, though she was confident to haue had victory by his presence.

The end of the third Booke.

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