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 FOVRTH BOOKE. (Book 4)

ONE of the Messengers lighted vpon his ship as he came from Negropont, relating the newes; haste was then made to the succour, but still he must be vnknowne. At his landing hee met some people sad, and their counte∣nances telling some misfortune; he was loth to aske, till one of his company desirous to know, and perceiuing the Emperour wished the knowledge, yet would not aske, demanded the businesse; answere was made, that the first Army was ouercome, the Duke Melisander taken prisoner, and the King marched with all speed towards the other Army, and Pamphilia: Alas Sir (said he) if you saw how our poore Country is already spoiled, defaced, and ruined, where the Army passeth, it would grieue your hearts, and most, that the wofullest end of warre is likely to happen; for the other Army are all young men, who though bold and valiant, yet raw and vnexperienced; tis to be doubted, the Queene will fall by this ill fortune into the Kings hands, wanting all forraine aide: for could her Brothers, or Cosins know of it, and but some of them here, we should not feare. Why is the warre, said Amphi∣lanthus? Because our Queene will not marry the King. What is her reason, said the Emperour? Want of loue in her, replide he; and as it is belieued by most, and is the generall opinion, her affections being placed on some other, but who it is, we are ignorant of, yet would he were here; for surely she can∣not loue but worthily, and so like her most worthy selfe. Amphilanthus was glad of this, and so got him to guide them to the Army, where they were wel receiued, as all shall be on such a necessitie in time of warre, if they come to helpe and succour.

The King of Celicia puffed vp with pride for this Victory, came on with speede and ioy, till he came within sight of the Army: Amphilanthus percei∣uing that, and hauing discouerd himselfe onely to the Counsell and Com∣manders, sent forth a Drum to desire a parly: it was granted, then went forth one of purpose chosen by the Emperour to deliuer this message, that since the King had already obtained the Victory ouer one Army, to the great hurt of that Country, he desired to haue as his own, out of that respect, and no other

it was fit as they held it to of••er him this (not chalenge) but humble intreaty to encounter in person one single man of the Qu. side, who shuld be in birth, honor, & al other dignities, fit to wait vpon him, and brauely before the wall to fight with him, who if he ouercame, he should haue the Queen deliuerd to him; if not, he and his army should depart as they came, hauing had enough in the bloods of so many braue men, and true subiects, al which might haue bin his, if this offer had bin time enough made, the rest now spared if accepted. The king, whose own pride could not wish a more respectiue challenge, an∣swerd, that he desird to know the man should meet him. The messenger an∣swerd, that his name was conseald frō most, and was known by no other, then the Iust in Hope. The king replied, that he must know more, or he might, and would be excusd from ventring his roial person against one nameles man: the messenger then ••ist a little paper, & deliuerd it, wherin he found a plainer cha∣lenge, but as nobly curteous, and therto the Emperors own most honord and feared name. The king took it wel, and was glad he should (as he told the mes∣senger) cōbat with him in the sight of his Lady, both for the honor he should gaine in ouercomming Amphilanthus, and that he was assured he was the only obstacle in his way; for these two reasons he would fight with him with hope of conquest; the houre should be left to him, if he pleasd, or as being his due to chuse. In the morning following, about nine of the clock, the messenger returnd with much comfort to Amphilanthus, who now had another, and the best part of the busines to doe, which was, whether she would consent, that her giuing or freeing should be left to his fortune in the combat, how to com∣pas this, he doubted the accomplishing, and feared infinitely how shee would take the bold offer, which had bin made without her knowledge; at last he did resolue, that he would aduenture, and so with the Counsell entred the Castle where she was; but thus he orderd it, that they should moue it to her, & haue her resolution, as if yet it had not bin determined. Amphilanthus this while should stand where he might heare al, & when he pleased, to shew himselfe. Thus it hapned, they came to the Queen, where she was in the Gallery vnder a Cloth of Estate, sitting as sadly, as her fortunes told her it was fit for her; yet of all fortunes, his losse was the greatest. When she saw them, she smild, and askt how matters went: they told her the worst, because she should agree to their desire. If that happen, said she, I shall be sorry to leaue you in danger, to whose loues and respects I am so much bound, nor is there need of that, since peace may be made for you, but none for me, on such conditions as he offers; for neuer wil I be vniust vnto my former vow, nor to my selfe, and such as wil go with me, shalbe vsd no worse then my selfe. They humbly thankt her, but protested, that no other fortunes should satisfie them, then her seruice & at∣tendance; yet was there a way, they said, how she might saue her self, free her realm & them from ruin. She repli'd, such a course she would with al willing∣nes vndertake; then they told her their opinion, naming the Champion only by his framed name: if (said she) my brothers were here, or either of the kings of Albania, I might put my fortunes in any of their hands: but alas what speak I of that, I merit such a happines. Could no other please you, said they? with that she sigh'd, Yes God knows, said she, blushing, & turning her self frō them. They went on; how if Amphilanthus, said they, were here? If he, said she, were here, there were no question, but life, estate, & al might be put into his hands: but this I protest truly and sincerely, that I had rather perish, then bee the

cause of the losse, or danger of the losse of one drop of his blood, or of my brothers, so much I loue, and respect them. With that Amphilanthus step'd out, and presenting him selfe to her, told her that while he had blood, and life they should serue her. She was amazed, surprized, with ioy and feare, blush'd, and looked pale, passion working so in her as she could not tell how to looke, how to speake, or expresse the blessed comfort possessed her. Heauen-like ioy to her it was to see him, Death-like smart so to see him to his danger, her heart bled to thinke that hee might bleed in her quarrell, and yet his quarrell caused in loue, had withered hers with sorrow, till now refreshed with this balme, like a body furnished by the perfectnes of a sound Liuer with blood, and so life; He was troubled with her countenance, least it had beene out of offence taken against him, when God knowes it was but the violence of her passion, which when happy or crossed, could neuer suf∣fer her to vtter it selfe. She could imagine what to say, and resolue of it, but neuer could when time was offered to performe it, timorousnes ruling in her towards him, when ouer all others she could soueraignize: diuers the sorts, diuers the passages, and geuernments of loue. Hee tooke her by the hand, shee affectionately beheld him, at last telling him that shee would ra∣ther petition him to let any end befal her, (but yeelding to As••rusius) rather then he should venture his life for her deliuerie.

Hee said there was not in the world, next her selfe that hee respected more, or in any degree of comparison with her liberty, and pleasure, there∣fore she might assure her selfe, that her honor, and safety should command his life, which could neuer be so well imployed as in seruing her. They then together sate vnder the cloath of State, shee beholding him with as greedy eyes, as one at the last doth the Hauen in a terrible storme, driuing from that whither they desired to goe, and well could she in her mind haue consented to haue dyed in that blessednes. He as louingly beheld her, and thought hee saw her former beauty lately decayed renuing as his fauour was to, and in her againe. Thus they were till supper, which being past she conducted him to a delicate chamber, where he lodged all night, resting well till time was for his going to the field; the excellent Lady lay all that darke time like one wrapd into the third Heauen, her soule only working, she knew not how to beare her ioy accusing prosperity, for being more vnsupportable then afflic∣tion, a Feauer of contentment held her in a fit without intermission, and thus she remained till day, or her care of him, or thoughts, or ioy, or altogether called her vp, and so she appareld her selfe to be ready to blesse her eyes with his sight before he went forth, for no suite, perswasion, or any petiti∣on of hers could diswade him from the combate, telling her at last that hee must doubt by her importunity, and feare shee seem'd to haue of him, that her opinion of his worth or vallour was deminished. She was then for∣ced to be patient, and all her refuge was to her teares and prayers for his de∣liuery, and safety, he is determined to vanquish, the other opinionated to haue the victory, the honour, and the Queene, both are now ready to try it out, Pamphilia attending her Knight to his horse, her soule wayting on him with all her strengrh of spirit, and good to assist him, so as thus hee that nee∣ded no helpe, had two spirits ioyned together in and against one, and one of them maliciously bent against him and perfect loue, bound to his ruine;

Vrania, Philistella, Steriamus and Selarinus, on their way in Epirus met a dain∣ty troope of Ladyes, and Knights in a Meddow, the Knights to passe away time till they met the Kings, and Queenes which was the cause of their iourney, had found out a pretty pastime to please their Mistrisses withall; vn∣armed, only with the Launce they were to take a ring of gold which was hung to a staffe, and which side (hauing deuided themselues into the num∣ber of twelue, and twelue) did oftnest take the ring, was to win a Iewell which the Ladyes was to giue, and then the whole side that had wonne the prize must run sixe courses a peece, and which Knight of••nest tooke it, was to haue the Iewell free to himselfe, the Ladyes to draw lots who should pay for it, and shee that lost it was to accept the winning Knight for her Seruant.

It was agreed on by all, as contented, till the lots being to be drawne, and the chance lighted, the Lady who was to loose or winne, grew into an infi∣nite rage, cursing Desteny, reuiling the blind Lady Fortune, crying out a∣gainst vniust lucke•• and rayling at all men, and mankind: in that chafing at her selfe as furiously as at any other thing; Vrania was desirous to know the cause of this her dislike and fury. May it please your Maiesty said she, I should hold it, an vndeserued fauour receiued from you, to be let alone to my pas∣sions, and not forced to relate that which must be most displeasing to mine owne eares, and as harsh as my lucke hath beene cruell, yet if there bee no remedy, I wil not disobay you, although I desire that my story may bee re∣hearsed but to your selfe, and our Queene your sister. This was agreed on while the Kings went to see horses ridden, and to ride themselues, the Lady then tould her discontents thus.

This Knight whom I haue now by Fortune giuen mee, I haue many yeares since giuen my selfe, I meane my best, and truest affections vnto; hee did so amorously, and with such iust, and euen loue receiue me, as I cannot tell whither of vs loued most though I knew I louest as much, and feruently as any woman; expressions I could make of his deernesse to me, and mine to him, were it not for feare of seeming too vaine, and boasting of my happi∣nes, therefore I will with your permission ouerpasse them, and follow the high way to my misfortune. Hee loued a farr greater Lady then my selfe, when I aspired to winne him, I preuailed, & she grew infinitely despised, but I was blessed, and with little pitty at last compassion beheld her, though with much respect, ioying to thinke I had cōpass'd my desires, & crossed my Riuall, after this had cōtinued some time, & I thought I saw my selfe cheife, how was I ioyed, and how triumphed I in my victory? but then as a braue Hauke hauing seazed the prey after a delicate flight is taken off from it, as if she gained but for another: so did I but get him from another, and to ano∣ther must leaue him; yet held I chiefe a while, and thought I had got a pre∣ferment in being the Lady, his respects were shewed vnto, the rest but as I had been second, and to receiue fauours by stealth, which are surest, and hear∣tilest giuen from the soule, as I too well know, which grieued mee to see any other haue; but I was to be patient, and obedient, loue taught me obseruance, this was an affliction, but nothing to that which followed, for then hee fell in loue againe with one, to whom either his affection so subiected him, or her peremtorie power abased him, as he quite left me, and looked vpon me, if by

chance I came in his way like a Iudge on a Thiefe, or offender, sternly and curstly: I melted with sorrow, I pined and starued with vnkindnesse; but all this preuailed not, I then gaue Hope quite ouer, and embraced Despaire, and with much adoe got quiet in vnq••ietnesse. Into the Country I retyrd, lea∣uing the braue City, resoluing neuer to see Court or company more: but one time a neare Kinsman of his, and one most inward with him came to my house where I dwelt, I bid him welcome after my old manner, but hee found sadnesse in me suteable to my state, he disliked it not, yet after supper sought to perswade me from such melancholly, and retirednesse, which (he said) was not onely hurtfull to me, but to my honour, the world speaking, and guessing strangely about it. What is that to me, said I? Is it not as fit the world should see my sorrow for my losse, as my content for enioying? I neuer was sparing to manifest the one, I will not bee ashamed, or afraid to suffer for the other with as much confidence as sorrow (which truly felt) will licence me. He said refraining the Towne and my Parents would bee too meane a part for mee, therefore it were much better and nobler to shew it, if I desired that, then to sit at home, as if I would couer it, for thus my brauery in bearing appeared not.

I finding him presse me so farre, began to draw so neere to hope, as to thinke it might be he was set on; then my thought I saw he had commission, and heard directly the words of my loue deliuerd by him as a Bird taught, re∣peating his lesson; yet I dissembled a while, till so long we had discoursed, as I was forced to discouer my conceit, which thus I did. If (said I) these speech∣es haue proceeded only from your well-wishes to mee, I must be sorry for them, since they tie me in a stricter band, then I willingly would bee oblieged in my merits, or power, being so small, as I shall alwaies be forced to remaine indebted for it, and so much, as I shall not hope to be able to pay the due; but if they come from another, fauour me so much to let me vnderstand whence they are, that I may make my resolutions according. He that had not bin nice to declare what concerned me, especially if good, plainely told me, that hee could not be iust in this to vs both; yet because he would begin, as he wished the succeeding might be happy; therefore Madam (said he) I was comman∣ded by my friend, and Cosin to perswade you to come vp, and he will if you please, to accept of his seruice deserue by loue to be yours againe. May I be∣lieue this, cryd I? as you will belieue any thing spoken by your truest friend and seruant. I gaue credit to him, and with him as onely to visit my Pa∣rents, and taking the opportunitie of hauing his company went to the Ci∣tie; as soone as I came to my fathers house, I saw a well knowne ser∣uant of the Knights I loued, I felt instantly my blood euen spring in my breast, as warming mee with hope, and almost ioy, soone after he came, and supped there, carrying so fine, and curteous a fashion to me as might haue wonne a new heart, but mine was his before, and if euer I was sorrie it was bestowed, it was at that time when my thought he deser∣ued the noblest, and best heart to bee giuen him for that gentle returne of loue, which as my onely content and hoped for blessing I most wil∣linglie embraced; then did I forget not onely all my ••orrowes before, and my paine, but was an new creature made of ioy. All perceiued the al∣teration, and ioyed with mee, some seeing the caus••, others that knew

not the first chance admired me, and grew merry at my pleasures, but long had not they this cause of mirth, nor I the happines, for after a confident and setled beliefe of his constancy, not then euer to remoue, he grew a little slacke again, & by degrees, as one that dies with bleeding, looseth the outward sense of sight, & so by little & little growes to death: so did his fauors to my death of parting with thē. I finding this, grew to my late estate again and sorrowed, at last fell sick, in which sicknes he came vnto me, I then spake some thing to him, not so freely I confesse, as I thought to haue done, but so much as hee I saw vnderstood me sufficiently, but so coldly he answered me, his fashion be∣ing so different from loue, as if he had but heard a tale, not the truth, nor so much as looking on me like the complainer, or suter. At last he said, that I should haue no cause to doubt him. I made my selfe (for all mine owne eies & iudgement stroue against me) belieue he meant iustly, which indeed I can∣not say he then did, but after proued it true, for he tooke away all doubt, and gaue me certaine knowledge, but of what? alas my perpetuall misery; for such a stranger he grew, as hee seemd either ashamd to know mee, or disdaind the knowledge of me. One day I found him with his loue, I comming to visit her, Lord what a poore salutation he gaue me, yet at last as I was going away hee spake to mee, taking occasion of doing something neare the place, where I stood. I answerd him, but thought I to my selfe, am I, or must I euer be the Vicar of the Empire to his loue, neuer enioying but in a second place, vnlesse the first be gone, and then in the interim raigne, but by a new creation fall to my old place againe? These and some other open disgraces truly changed my heart, or wrought so much in me, as I grew to loue lesse, then not to loue, and now am come to be more careles of him, and faine almost would shun him, yet I cannot directly do that, though I hate the fortune I am fallen into, and this is the cause I am vext with hauing this Lot. Vrania and Philistella pi∣tied her, especially when she cryd; Alas, said she, why was loue so cruell, or ra∣ther to clothe loue in such cruelty, as to giue hope of purpose to ruine? as if one would giue a delicate banket, and poyson the Guests when he had done; els might hee haue left mee despaire for charities sake, and not luld me with hope to martyr me againe. The Queenes perswaded much with her, and so at last she was pacified so farre, as to giue him the Iewel, and accept the name of his Mistrisse, as other faire Ladies doe the like name; further, their friend∣ships increased not so long as this story lasted.

Philistella was left heere with her deare Selarinus, shee being crowned with all solemnitie, as hee had been before. Steriamus and his Vrania iour∣nied on to their Kingdome, where likewise shee was crowned, and liued the rest of their dayes in all happinesse and ioy: the like did Selarinus and Phili∣stella.

Antissius and Selarina in their voyage by Sea, meta fine Aduenture in a sweet and dainty Iland, where they staid, the Queeue not well brooking the S••a, in which time they walked vp into the land, comming into a delicate Pallace, built curiously of white stone, a braue Riuer, or arme of the Sea run∣ning a little on the other side of it, Gardens were round about it, or walkes, which made it appeare the Pallace of delight and much perfecter had it bin but the Lord of it was called by lifes concluder to obedience, dying, and leauing two sonnes, and one most faire Daughter, with his noble

Lady, whose vertues were such as shinned in her for the honor of all other women, and examples to Maydes to liue Virgins, and wiues, and widdowes as she had done, and did. She met the King and Queene at the first Gate, be∣ing enformed who they were, & with all reuerent respect welcommed them, attending them into the Gardens, shewing them the pleasures of them, and giuing them such fruits as that time yeelded, then waited on them into the house, which they admired for curiositie, sitting downe to rest them in a braue Gallery, which delighted them infinitely, by reason of the sweete pro∣spect, which though not so far as others, yet was it as pleasing beeing able to iudge of what they beheld, which was one way delicate meadowes, and that great Riuer, beyond it fields, and hills, downe the Riuer an ancient, and fa∣mous Citie, well built, and of many miles compasse; vp the Riuer pasture grounds and fine inclosures, thus were all sorts of delights round about, and in sight of this place, but the richest, and finest sight was the graue Widdow, the sweet youthes, and the excellent young Lady, whose perfections were such as no description can come neere, or any thing but admiration tell, whose fulnesse will not permit expression. Her stature was of the bra∣uest, and best chosen height, her skinne (although her hayre was browne) white as milke, soft as downe, and fine as silke: her eyes black, as if mourning for the murders they would commit, yet so spritefull, as gaue comfort, and blessed content to him should bee honourd with their fauours, and hope of life to the dying, if they repented their ambition. She was sixteene yeares of age, but of such beauty as if each minute had bi•• employd to fetch excellen∣cies to her; a graue and braue fashion she had, which to strangers seemd pride, but to them that knew her true noblenes abounded in her, which they pub∣lished, else she had bin vndeseruingly condemned. With the King there was a braue Lord, but somewhat in yeares exceeding her, he yet had a young and new desire to obtaine her, his worth would not seeke her, but as her worth warranted him, a strangers name hee feared would be distastfull, yet he was so neare a home borne man in affection, as that might speake for him; he was an experienced man, and therfore knew time the most pretious of any thing, wherefore he applyd himselfe vnto her.

Her fashion was discreet like herself, respectiue according to his owne hart, which was not the meanest, but such an one as might haue dwelt for noble∣nes in a king, but being in him, made him a king for bounty. A Cosin-german shee had, who trauelling with this Lord, was so imped into the quills of his loue, as he was himselfe, and so wooed for him; she was confident of her Co∣sins loue, and trusted his iudgement, & so receiued the Romanian, as on trust from him; he was in great fauour with the King, who spake for him, and of purpose stayed in that Island (belonging vnto his Crowne) till his seruant had gaind his desire, the weather so temperat and pleasing, as his Maiesty re∣solued to stay there, and lodge in tents for pleasure, and the more commodi∣ously to let his Fauourite court his Mistris, although the Lady most earnest∣ly besought his gracing her house with lodging in it; but the delightful Island carryed him about to view it, and so left him to woe, and win if he could. In his Progres he met many fine aduentures, the Island being large, and plenti∣full of all delicacies, but the king fel to sports, the Queene affected only prety delights, & none so violent as hunting; the house where they then kept court

was a large and auncient house belonging to an Noble-man, built square of stone, standing rather vpon a flat then a Hill, for the highest of the ascents was scarce sencible. There ranne behind the Garden, and Orchard wall, a sweete Brooke, on each side whereof fine and enamiled Meadowes lay, shewing their finesses to each eye, in this place Selarina tooke delight, and heere walked, but she was with-drawne a little from the Brooke, and plaine, to a little hill, which had some few trees to grace it selfe withall, and helpe o∣thers from the scorching heate; a voice to this place inuited her, whither be∣ing arriued, she found two men in Shepheards weeds, their countenances spake for them, that they were not borne to that estate, yet their complexi∣ons shewed that they had not beene curious to preserue them selues from the Sun, but followed their fortunes, or choyce, as men ought to doe any profession they take: they were not so young as it might bee said, they had want only taken that life, the ripnes of their yeares tooke away that suspition, for they were towards forty, so as iudgment to content them selues, or dis∣content one might see had brought them to it; they were together when the Queene first saw them, but they seeing her soone parted, one as if flying company, the other remayning to yeeld account of his going. Selarina drew neere to the Shepheard, who with low reuerence welcomed her. She de∣manded many things of him, he gaue her true, and witty satisfaction, at last she desired to know the cause of the Shepheards shunning her, hee answered that he did the like, when he discerned any company, being vrged vnto it by a violent melancholly, which would not permit him time for recreation, if any but himselfe came neere him. She asked the reason. He replyed that se∣cret was his friends, and therefore besought pardon, if mine owne said he, I should be happy in hauing such royall eares to giue hearing to my story; she still vrged, & so much, as he was forced to obay. Then Madame said he, since your Maiestie will haue it, I must yeeld, one's Princesse hauing power to search all Subiects hearts. This man my companion, and my selfe, were sonns to two of the best men in this Island, he was called Sirelius, my selfe Procatus, we were bred together at Schoole first, after we went to the Court of your Lords Grandfather, where we liued, and in good reputation, hee meri••ing all mens good oppinions by his owne noblenes, and excellent parts, my selfe I thinke for his sake was respected, expecting something in me, who was friēd to so much worthines. At last he fell in loue with a young Lady, the only daughter of her father, & mother, a great marryage she was likely to be, but the true riches he sought, was her loue, answerable to his affections. She was very young, hauing so few yeares as her Parents were loath she should heare of a husband, yet at last his deserts, and store of friends brought the marriage about, and some honours were giuen to the father in requitall of his consent. The Lady grew on, and the time of marryage came, which was solemnized by the Kings command at the Court, where great tryumphs were, Masques and banquets, and such Court delights, neuer man with greater ioy receiued a wife, nor any woman expressed more comfort in a match; but where such violence is, seldome is their loue lasting, for within lesse then two yeares after the marryage, whether his fondnes ran to Icalousy, or her youth, and loue to change gaue occasion I dare not iudge, but discōtents grew, & disliks of all sides spread them selues, the father tooke part with the Son in law, the

Mother with the Daughter; to that extremity this ••lew, as no fire flamed or sparkled higher. Most mens eyes were vpon them, to see whither this would come, and for whom all this storme was raised; it was discouerd, that this stir was about a young Lord, who deseru'd alas not the least suspition for any goodnes, that for himselfe could inuite loue from any aboue a common creature, such an one he might purchase, or shee, because hee was a Lord take vpon trust to find more then promised, his pride was such, as he would loose rather then beg, his ignorance such, as none that had vnderstanding of worth would or could accept, his vncertainty such, as he was alwaies making loue, and his fortune such, as he was still refused, and his insolency requited with scorne; yet of this fine Gentleman my noble friend was mistrustfull, his wife I must confesse carrying a little too much respect to the other, and yet on my conscience it was more out of her spirit, that disdaind to be curbd, then ex∣traordinary liking of him, and that often is seene, and proues the way to make truth of mistrust. He forbad him his house, and her his company, she refused to obay, if by chance shee might meete him. Her Cabinets hee broke open, threatned her seruants to make them confesse; letters he found, but only such as between friends might passe in complement, yet they appeared to iealousie to be amorous. He was so distemperd, as he vsed her ill; her father a phantasti∣cal thing, vaine as Courtiers, rash as mad-men, & ignorant as women, would needs (out of folly, ill nature, and way wardnesse, which hee cald care of his honour, and his friends quiet) kill his daughter, and so cut off the blame, or spot, this her offence might lay vpon his noble bloud, as he termed it, which by any other men must with much curiositie haue been sought for, and as rarely found, as Pearles in ordinary Oysters: but what time chose he to exe∣cute his fury in, but before her husband? whose loue though crackt, was not quite broken, nor so much crusht, but that hee held his hand, which with a Dagger was giuing her a cruel & vntimely end, yet a little scratch he gaue her iust on her hart, which otherwise had laine opē to the disgrace of an vnmerci∣ful & vnworthy father. She cryd out, the husband held his wife, who poore Lady was ready to fall vnder the weight of vnkindnes and danger. It was a strange sight to behold a father incensed for a husbands sake against an onely child, & that husband to be the shield of her defence, from whom, if at al the wrong was to rise. This at last with much ado was appeased, & a seeming con∣tent sprung out of these blusters among thē, the Lord left to his pride, wher∣with he pufft himself vp, & was fild with it like a dropsie, or a blader blowne with wind: the quarrel was taken vp too between them, & easily might it be, for my friend could not by any meanes prouoke him to fight, chosing rather to giue satisfaction by oath, & promise neuer of seeing her more, & to be tide to any conditions, then drawing his sword. Matters thus pacified, God bles∣sed them with a son and daughter, after which she died, leauing them as wit∣nesses of her loue, and to speake for remembrance of her after her death. A widdower he continued long, his children bred with much care and affecti∣on with the Grandfather; trauel he did both out of his own loue to it, and im∣ployment from the State, but all this could not roote out the aptnesse of his disposition to loue, so as hee fell enamoured of a beautifull young Lady, daughter to a great Duke in Romania, whose perfections and yeares called at eyes to admire her, and his to be her Vassels. With much sute and meanes he

Courted her, employing all his friends to his assistance of gayning her, shee was not allowed the greatest liberty, but affected it as much as any, shee saw how braue his former wife had liued, and in what liberall fashion she might also with him continue, these were sweete motiues to a great minde, and a low estate of meanes, where honour call'd for plenty to sup∣ply what she was indued with. Her father was against it vehemently, and shut her vp; but these courses preuaile no more with a louer, then to increase loues force in fetters, as any Creature for keeping close, growes the more furious when libertie comes: and so did her loue grow to that heate, as wheras mild perswasions might at first haue beene acceptable, now nothing but marryage will content her, which so much gayned in my friends breast, as he vowed she should haue what his fortune would allow her, and himselfe a loyall and affectionate seruant and husband to her. This was agreed on, and they marryed with such ioy as none can expresse but louers, who meete with equall affections, and so liued sometime; but now three yeares being pass'd, the heate resonably cooled, other passions haue crept in like Mothes into good stuffe: and discontents haue risen, so as he hath left her attended on like her selfe, meanes to the height of his estate, and all things according to her owne mind, himselfe only retyring to lament his misfortune, liuing to out liue her loue as he feares, although I am confident of the contrary, & tooke his life likewise on me to diuert him if I could from this course, which I trust I shall doe, and haue preuailed thus far as he hath promised to weare this Summer out only in his sorrowes, and then to returne, but company he will not yet admit of, so as I feare when he come abroad againe, hee that before was the most absolute fine Courtier will be a new learner in that Art, but let it be as it will, so he come forth of these woods, and plaines, put on Court apparrell instead of this Sheephards coate, a scarfe for this Scrip, and a sword for this hooke, and I trust we shall be gallant once more, for my part I am tired with rurall mirth, and passionate ditties, I had rather heare a horse neigh, then all the Sheephardesses in this Island sing; quarr••lls haue also ri∣sen in our absence as I heare, all which will breed ill blood if wee stay out, wherfore I pray for returne. The Queene smiled at this Story, thinking how fit it was to be compared to the graue Suter they had left at the Widdowes house, and how likely such a conclusion was to happen, which some sayes did afterwards fall out of their great discontents, but againe concluded with loue, and more loue then euer had beene before, at least in outward shew, so as these storyes may bee called one. Selerina left the Sheephard intreating him to vse his best meanes to comfort his friend, and to carry him backe to his wife, which she de••ired as a woman, and hee premised to performe. To the Court shee returned, meeting the King as hee came from hunting, to whome she related this discourse, Antissius knew them both, and resolued to cal them to the Court as soone as he return'd, for he had euer lou'd them, and then had employment for them. The Progresse ended he return'd againe to his first welcome, where he did find his amorous seruant a fortunate man, wanting nothing but his Maiesties presence for the whole consummation of his blessing, which was concluded by his marryage before the Kings going thence, he assisting at the wedding, and thus was he happy in hauing what he most coueted. To Constantinople the King and Queene soone after went,

where Selarina was with all ioy, and ceremony by her deerest louing Antissi∣us crowned Queene, liuing as happily as euer Queene did. Antissia, and L••∣cenia came, only to visit her, the other stayed, and attended her daily in the Court, being cheife of the Chamber. Parselius with his Dalinea, being got into their owne Country of Achaia, once more remembred the sweete, and pleasant time they at first inioyed, when Parselius grew a louer, and shee as passionate a receiuer of his affection; they called to minde many more passa∣ges, as his sadnes, and parting, yet neither of them they stucke long vpon; the cause, one not desiring the remembrance since for that occasion, the o∣ther for feare of offending let it passe, nothing appeered before them but con∣tent, he striuing for nothing more then to please her, nor she ambitious of any thing more then his affection: both thus equally bent to loue, and satis∣faction, happines must needs be the end. If she had a mind to goe abroad, he could neuer know cause to stay him from accompaning her; if hee liked any sport, or pleasure abroad that she chose to please her selfe withall, his desire was her will, and her will desire to serue him. Thus was loue obserued, and serued by these, who one day going into a greate Desart, after their manner in that Country to take delight, carrying Tents where places so desolate would not afford conueniencie or ciuill lodging, in a faire plaine the Pauil∣lions were placed, hard by a wood, a dellicate brooke running before them, ouer which was only a ford but no bridge; there the Queene fished, while the King hunted. As she was at her sport, an ancient fine woman appeared on the other side smiling, and calling her by signes vnto her, the Queene was at first carlesse of her, but she still following right against her, calling as shee went with her Angle fit for the streame, shee at last marked her, and was so intised as she resolued to goe with her, sending straight for her Horse, and so with some few in her trayne, one of her seruants taking the old woman be∣hind him, rod into the wood, and a great while in the Desart-like wildernes, till comming within a place thicke, and scratching, ful of bushes and thornes, catching as longing to hould her, and so into a little round place, greene as fresh grasse could make it, and as circular as those places faigned to be made by the Fairy company to daunce in, she leaped from behinde her guide, and comming to the Queene besought her to doe so likewise; she obeyed as led by Fortune; then alone, saue with the old woman, she went into the thicke, from thence into such another little round, in the midst wherof was a Stone, white as white could be, a Ring of siluer on the top wherby it seemed to bee lifted vp; the Queene looked on it, and admired it, when the old woman bad her lift it, she seeing the bignes thought it impossible, yet as come by her de∣sire she would not disobay her will, wherefore lifting at it, she easily tooke it vp, and then appeared a rich, sumptuous, and braue Staire of stone, carued and guilt with gold. Those Staires she was to descend, which she did, enter∣ing then into a delicate fine Gallery, as curious and costly all on Pillars of Gold; out of this into a Garden, such as the perfectest was described to be, thence into a Tarras, the railes, pillars, and all of the same continued richnes, out of that into a large, and spacious Hall, the inside for ingrauing, and curi∣osity like, or surpassing the others, the very Benches, and Thresholds being pure Gold, the walls inriched, & adorned with pre••ious Stones. In the mid••st of this, or rather at the vpper end, was an Altar, or the proportion of one,

sixe Candlesticks with wax lights in them vpon it but not burning; a Booke in the mid'st lay open which she tooke vp, and reading in it, instantly a deli∣cate sound of Musicke was heard, and then appeared an ancient grauefull old man speaking these words.

Great and rightfull Queene of Achaia, blessed be your dayes, and happy may your issue be; know from me, that you were here foretold vs many years ••ince, to witnes which: this booke shall giue you vnderstanding, (take∣ing that on the Altar, in his hand) but till your owne, and by your selfe cho∣sen Lord come, I must not discouer the secrets vnto you. As thus they were in discourse, a strange noyse of seuerall sorts of Trumpets, and other wind Instruments were heard, whereat entred the king Parselius, who hunting was brought by a like traine into that place. He beheld her, and she him, but as two Statues, set with their eyes one vpon the other without power to speak: so stood they, admiration filling them as they were but wonder. The old man thus said, since my Lord the King is now likewise present, I may lawful∣ly goe forward, and fullfill the charge left vnto me, which hath laine in my hands these many yeares. Your Grandfather braue Queene, had a Brother named Distantes, he was a braue, and valliant Gentelman, as this Kingdome euer knew, but his misfortune was to fall in loue with a Lady, wife to ano∣ther man, whose deserts especially for loue and truth to him, (worthynes a∣boue all to be prized) merrited what? so much loue as was in him, (and that was as much as euer man carryed, or suffered for woman) could demaund, and she had such requitall from him: he had loued her before her marryage, she had likewise deerely loued him, and gaue so liuely proofes of it, as he was made possessor of what was most desired by him, and the other only made a colour for their loues, losing what was by marriage his due, but the others by the right of loue, so as he was the right Husband, the other the seruant that had but by stealth, Distantes possessing freely.

This proceeded, & she was with child, the good man reioyced at it, she was hartily glad, and the Prince thought himselfe blessed, who at the same time also had his wife with child, who dyed in child-bed, leauing a faire and deli∣cate daughter as yeares after manifested•• his Mistris had a sonne who were brought vp together, the Prince desiring her as a friend to bring vp his daughter, hauing by that a faire occasion to visit her whom hee loued more then any other, or himselfe which is easily to be beloued, since himselfe, he, nor any louer will spare in comparison of loue to the beloued. These chil∣dren continually nourished, fed, and conuersing together, did breed, feede, and discourse affections by this meanes, growing like trees incensible yet to perfection, and florishing: such rootes they had planted, as could not with∣out perishing both branches be decayed, yet time made them fearefull, by reason that she was so much greater, & aboue him; in her it made her loue the stronger, thinking it an honour to her, to aduance by her fauour a man fit in worth, though below her in dignity, the other being aboue all degrees. One day she was in the Garden by a delicate Fountaine, combing her haire, and braiding it into seueall breads, tying at each end a delicate rich pearle, hee came neere her enough to behold her, but not so neere (for his owne happi∣nes) to hinder her, or make delayes from so delicate worke, with which shee knotted, and tyed vp his heart in as many bonds as her fingers made

plats, and wound them at last all round to crowne her victory, and his bon∣dage.

When shee had done, hee went to her, shee with smiles and pleasant dis∣course welcom'd him, with such sweet and familiar affection, as had him boldly sit by her, take her hand, ki••se it, and so discourse of loue: so farre he proceeded, and so willingly shee imbraced his desires, as shee yeelded as farre as chast loue did warrant, promise of marriage passing betweene them. This continued till the Prince hauing prouided a fit marriage, for her, came and propounded it vnto her, little imagining what had pass'd betweene his children: glad hee was to see their loues, which nature told him was ne∣cessary; but not (alasse) the least misdoubting the mischiefe committed, til she seem'd so nice, and vnwilling to bee perswaded, as hee grew offended, yet feared not such a misaduenture: then did hee set his Mistris, her husband, and the youth their sonne to worke with her; they all promised their helpes, except the young man, who modestly excused it as well as hee could, con∣fessing his want of power with her, and vnwillingnesse to offend her•• This did not dislike the Prince, who went away hoping for all that, to winne her in time, which hee was resolu'd not by force to purchase; but if by per∣swasions not els to compasse.

The loue increased between the two young ones, as warmth in the Spring: but the misery at last grew to their losse; yet gaine in this kinde by sad dis∣course making them know the ill they had runne into, and the sinne they had committed, which by this chance happened vnto them. The Lady, Mo∣ther to the youth, and Gouernesse to the Princesse, began to discerne they lou'd, then doubted where, then guessed, and so grieu'd, and more was per∣plexed, not being able to finde a way out of this maze of trouble, nor an end to winde the skeine vpon any bottome, but destruction and ruine: shee could not finde a friend to trust with it, to reueale her suspition to her belo∣ued, not being sure of the ill, shee thought it not fit, since a iust taxe might bee laid vpon her iudgement, and an vncurable wound giuen to him to thinke of the offence, and deepe, though deserued punishment on him and her, whose sinnes had bred flowers to poyson themselues with all, and brought forth ioyes to be their ouerthrowes.

In these perplexities shee remain'd till a night or two before the Prince was to come againe, in the euening, or rather so late as might ••e called night; shee went into the Garden to breath her complaints in the sweet and silent ayre•• but what hower can be so late or early, that (if profitable) Louers will not finde conuenient?

Shee had not walk'd done Alley, but in a close delicate couer'd walke, she heard a whispring which made her stand still, and not vnmannerly, but onely for knowledge sake listen who they were, when against her will, (as often that happens) shee heard these words. My deare, said one of them, what strange mistrust is this, that lately is fallen into my mothers breast, to make her so curiously watch, and as it were striue to depriue vs of our loued mee∣tings? Can shee bee vnkinde to her owne sonne? or thinkes shee that I am not worthy of thee? Can shee which cherished mee with such hearty loue, enny, or seeke vndeseruedly to barre my chiefest blessing? the earth holds not that treasure I prize like thee, the Heauens but in themselues can giue

mee such content as thy presence fills me withall: ioy is not but in thy sight, nor am I ought if not with thee, barre mee thy conuersation and imprison mee; let mee bee banished thee, and murther mee; let mee not inioy thee, and let mee perish in perpetuall accursednesse. What shall I say? I cannot say I am worthy of thee; then should I flatter my selfe, and wrong thee. I cannot thinke I merit speech for mee; yet since thou gracest mee, why should any els enuy or grudge my fortune? As thou art matchlesse, so are thy fauours; and I am blessed, inriched, and enobled with them: why then should purblind chance or fond policie hinder me? tricks of state, as being tricks, are to bee condemn'd; I am true, thou excellent; I loyall, thou affe∣ctionate: what Crocodile treason should howle to bewray, and destroy our contents; weepe not deare eyes, with that hee kiss'd the teares, and like Nectar dranke them, corsiues to see her shed them, but cordials as shed for him, and hee permitted to take them. O my deare life, cryed hee, teare not my soule with thy sorrow, let mee not see thee mourne vnlesse I may with that dye: hee still kiss'd her, I know not whether more molested with her paine, or ioyed with that liberty of kissing, shee at last kissing his eyes which likewise accompanied hers in showres. My ioy, said shee, why make you these questions? may there be any accident that can hinder our loues? our wills and desires, 'tis true there may, but be confident no further then absen∣ting can gaine; for neuer shall I bee in heart and soule but yours: the least thing that belongs to you is deare to me, how infinitely deare then is your selfe; mine eyes are not so deare, my heart so well belou'd (but that you cherish it) as is your sight and dearest selfe to me. I thinke not of a fortune which is not with you and for you, I dreame not but of you, I ioy not but in you, nor am I ought els but your selfe metamorphosed wholly into you, and your loue.

Then sate they downe by a delicate Fountaine at the side of that walke, there they wailed againe, there testified their woes in sighes, and teares: at last (cryed shee) but if my Father take mee hence, will not you forget mee? shall not absence worke in you? Yes (said hee) in admiration of thee, to think how chast, how excellent thou art, how happy I was in thy loued sight, and so by that, see more and more cause alwaies to lament: other effects when absence brings to me, let ruine follow, or come ioyntly with it; if roome be found for foule forgetfulnesse, let mee of Heauen bee vuremembred; thy beauty printed in my heart, shall still before my soule call thoughts of loue: mistrust not me sweet life vnlesse thou meane to martyr me, I can loue none, I nere lou'd any, or ere will liue to think so shamefull & detestable a thought, as change in loue procures: no, I was borne iust, I am iust, and will dye iust. Shee wrung his hand, and these am I, cryed shee, they then embraced, with which the Mother came vnto them, who seem'd like a great showre in har∣uest, grieuous to their couetous desires of being by themselues: the Moone shin'd so as all things appear'd as cleare as in the day. They were in inno∣cence asham'd to bee heard and found alone, yet loue made them onely de∣sire that, affection in a Mother made teares to fall for feare, and loue for him; respect vnto the other, as childe of him she most loued, made her weepe also for her; both brought passions, as for both shee suffer'd, shee could not speake, her breath was stopped, and shee was choaked with kindnesse,

shee fell vpon their necks as they together kneeled vnto her, their eyes did say they faine would speake, and they begged for them, hers promised will to grant, and sorrow to deny; all three were in an extasie, not knowing what to doe, speech failed, senses lost their vse, and they were like the Images, that in resemblance of the substances implored good, but dumbe as they were, gain'd little, and thus did they remaine till hee spake. Madam (said hee) the bringer of me forth, the kinde nourisher of me in youth, and till this time; vndoe not your first worke, nor make mee wish I neuer had beene borne, which I must doe if I bee hindred from inioying this sweet Lady, Mistris of my life. You haue tenderly bred me with affection, and can bee as tender ouer me still, then let my sufferings in loue be as the dangers you sought to preuent, and so protect me still; I did amisse in beginniug without your knowledge, but she loues me (Madam) that speakes for me, and therein am I richer then in Kingdomes, if els where; she wishes what I seeke, and desires what I wish; you haue charity to strangers, let not your sonne bee a greater stranger to yo••; his life lies on it, and so yours; if you doe hold mee but as deare as yo•• did lately protest I was: you haue power and meanes to ef∣fect this. What can you desire of my Lord that he will not consent to? what intreat of her father that he will refuse? we both petition, both beseech your ayd, you may assist and saue vs, els let vs faint and perish in dismay. The La∣dy then grew more passionate at his speeches, then before the plaine sute, & confession being deliuered by his own tongue, desirous she was to helpe, and succour him; but assured she was it lay not in her power; nor had she vse of speech, only teares freely seru'd her, so as if one would dreame of the anci∣ent changes, one might think she had been instantly ready to be transform'd into a Fountaine; her silence gaue the young Lady opportunity, who thus discoursed her passions. Mother, said she, to my perfecter selfe, disdaine, no nor refuse the petition of my heart thus made, while that is prostrate to you, heare and grant my sute, vse the power of loue that no question you haue imployed by your own sufferings iudge mine, and for them both com∣mand redresse; Loue dares not deny you, who can, and haue in my hearing giuen proofes of his respects due vnto you, let him now show what is your ••ure; and allow it you, but imploy it to our profits; seeing thus before you, the two purest Louers his power euer touch'd, or•• brought vnder his obe∣dience; behold our pains as yours, for so they are since ioyntly his, and pitty mine as hers, bred by your hand, like a Lambe, till seazed by the wolfe of Loue, which (though fierce) yet kind and sweet are those clawes that hold me fast to him; he hath told you your power, I can but beseech your fauour, and beg it for loue, & your own Loue's sake; thinke how miserable the death of Louers will be, & how vnfortunate when caused by a mother, & a friend to loue? A friend to loue, cryd the old woman, and a mother? 'Tis true I am both, & they baue brought my miserie. O my children how miserable am I in this? I might (did not my own guiltines condemne me) think my selfe, & call my selfe your mother, but my shame makes my sorrow, and your losse must proceed from my infamy; grieu'd I am in soule to tell the truth, for you must and cannot choose but hate me, when I shall say, what yet my heart, loth to let me speake? my eyes will waste themselues in streames before I can v••ter it, and my soule rend when I must say, you cannot bee blessed

in loue, your wofull and sinfull mother being the cause, and roote of all this mischiefe. I blush in soule guiltinesse, I mourne in the knowledge of my sinne, I am more faulty then euer woman was, and a meere staine to my sexe: you cannot, my dearest heart, enioy this Lady, nor you (sweet Lady) haue your loue: I am the Monster that keepes the gates against you, and the Ser∣pent that deserues death from you for double iniury. Then kneel'd shee downe; pardon mee, cryde shee, you perfectest and best, though most vn∣fortunate Louers, I am the wretch that hath vndone you and my sel••e; your loue's vnlawfull, I am the shamefull cause thereof; your loues cannot im∣brace, I am the Diuorcer; your wishes, if granted, would bee wickednesse, and I am the ground brought forth this poyson; wonder not, but shun me as the Pestilence. I am not to bee neerer suffer'd then the Plague; for such I am to you, to you (deare two) the life of my poore life: the reason of all this was loue, and your loue by this sinfull loue is cross'd; you are, poore soules, deceiu'd and couzened; turne your affections now to chast and iust desires, for you are (ah that I must say so) Brother and Sister, children to one man. They, miserable soules, could not looke vpon each other, the grou••d was their highest obiect, swell and almost burst they did with griefe, their senses shut vp as in an Apoplexie: at last, all rose from the earth, into which they rather would haue gone, the old woman to her chamber, where falling into passions her weaknes could not sustain: but she with heart afflicted, oppressed with shame and vnsufferable woe, dyed, being found in the morning in her bed a pittifull corps of an afflicted minde. The youth and his Sister wept, and sate that night together wringing their hands, as their hearts and soules smarted for this harme: In the morning, for feare of spies, they parted their misery, being to shew themselues as carefull as before, their honours and the Parents lying on it, though their wofull fortunes might haue giuen liber∣ty, which was their greatest Prison, liberty they before did couet, now had, is onely hated. Sobs and groanes were the words they said farewell with∣all, their eyes so fill'd with cloudes of teares, as if yet pitty were had, not to let them see their extreamest misery, but through a scarfe of loue shed wa∣ter. The noise of the Ladies death was soone spread abroad the house, com∣ming to the young Lords eares, who with much sorrow, which hee dissem∣bled not (his supposed father being absent) tooke order for her buriall, him∣selfe soon after went thence priuatly, like Caunus from Biblis; yet the compa∣rison holds not clearly, because these Louers were chaste and pure after the secret was disclos'd. Wandring about, hee happened on this Desart, and into a little round place in proportion, like this you came from, where you de∣scended the stayres: Shee follow'd him, or fortune whither she would guide her, who was so kinde as to bring her to this place where they continued some short space, life not allowing too much sorrow, to such vnfortunate though worthy creatures, but would, to assist them, loose it selfe, parting with them, leauing their bodies cleare reliques of spotlesse truth, and cross'd affections malice. They saw each other, and bewail'd their chance, but to fauour each other, came no neerer then through those bushes to behold their wofull selues, as in Mooneshine glimmering, and as colde: At last, as they had iustly at once begun their loues, they iustly at one instant died a little be∣fore meeting, pitty not letting the one outliue the other; or loue couetous,

would receiue both parts at once againe into possession loth to spare any part of such perfection. The bodies by diuine prouidence kept safe, the woefull Prince, Father to them, by destiny brought to them, hauing searched, and all his seruants for them. Vnder a great Cyprus Tree which grew where the stone is now, they lay intwined in each others armes, dy∣ing with as chast, and in as chast embracements as they had liued; her groanes of death called him, who had as little life, yet some thing more strength, finding her end comming, hee kissed her hand, and dying lippes, then tore some of those branches downe, honouring againe poore Caparis∣sus, wearing his Funerall memory, making two Coronets, one for her, an∣other for him selfe, and so Crowned, but most with loyall spotles loue, they ended, leauing no staine but misfortune to touch them withal, & much honour to be rendred to their loues.

The Prince finding them thus, fell downe on them, and as it were brea∣thing his last likewise into them, but hee was to out liue them, and to grace their Funeralls: he therefore rose commanding that stately Tree to be cut downe, whose pride had beene such, as not to let any tree grow with∣in the compasse of his armes; of the body hee made a Coffin, into which with precious balmes he layd the bodies as one; then did hee get the rarest workman, and by his directions make this place, the comming to it he would haue this way, as most vnusuall, and strange as their liues, the place els on the other side would haue suffered another, and finer comming to it, though painefull, the ascent being so highe, for indeed, it was a place as cut out of the maine Rocke, and wrought into the heart of it, all of one side hauing light in aboundance, but hee had, as it were, made his way in the middest thereof, as if to pierce the Center, as that part in their hearts had beene sealed.

When this stately and sumptuous building was finished, he went into Chi∣os, where dwelt an ancient and rare Magitian, this man he made his instru∣ment to fulfill his intent, who did so well performe it, as hee accomplished what Art could frame; my selfe, my Wife, the old woman that conducted your Maiesty and my Sonne that brought you hither, were heere established by them; this booke hee gaue mee to deliuer to you when you came, and the time appointed when a woman should raigne heere, louing as well, as much deseruing, but more happily enioying to her comfort, which is your selfe. I was commanded to tell this story to none els, nor deliuer this Booke, wher∣in this is more exactly expressed, and yet all this in the presence of the King your chosen mate

These I haue obserued, and now haue but two things more to do, which are these, to shew you the Tombe; then opened he that place which seem'd like an Altar, wherein lay the two Louers adorn'd as they dyed, with the same Garlands whose honour was to continue greene still, as hopefull of their memory. The candles hee then lighted, telling them that hee and his we••e ordain'd to doe that office, while any of them remained aliue. The King and Queene lamented the Louers, pittying their miserable estates, and vnfortunate aduentures, giuing large allowance to the place to maintaine lights for euer ouer them, and the keeping of the place to them and their heyres. All charmes were now finished, and yet the memory of the charme

of such a loue neuer could be but extant.

Thus Parselius and his Queene were made happy with the rarest accident of loue, and the richest Tombe Loue in the world had, they return'd with all content, honouring aboue all other places the Tombe of Loue, retur∣ning soone after to their setled Court. Rosindy, Meriana and Perselina ha∣uing left the Court, and returning with their best and conuenientest speed, passing through a part of Achaia, which was pleasant, but slightly inhabi∣ted.

Perselina by reason of the heat, intreated them to stay a while in those places; they agreed to her demand: Rosindy and Meriana like two new mar∣ried people for fondnesse and affectionate kindnesse, walking in the woods which were but of small heighth, though thicke, being like Copsies all of Birch, saue heere and there an Oake would shew himselfe in pride, and pe∣remptorily tell them hee commanded; in this place the King took great de∣light, so as they sate downe where fearnes grew, as if of purpose to bee their cushions, and then with sweet and louing discourse they let the time steale away, delight increasing while that litle addition of age grew on them vn∣felt or thought on.

The delicate young Lady went by her selfe, her thoughts farre higher then that solitarinesse, could haue rais'd them, had shee not carried a more aspiring and braue minde continually about her then ordinary women, or the most extraordinary had, her fortunes were so farre short of her spi∣rit, as shee suffered that to descend, to wish an increase, and sufficiency of estate though shee bought it with her marriage, and so grow subiect to an Hnsband, which, though loath shee was to doe, yet rather then want meanes, shee would venture her limits of absolute freedome; yet such her conceit of her owne iudgement was, in which shee erred not much, as shee thought shee should doe well enough with such a Husband as she would choose for free liuing; many had beene named, but one onely shee liked, who had but one barre to hinder his desires, which was that hee was a stranger, and no Macedonian; besides, of that Nation which in former times had beene enemies, though neighbours; and this was the chiefe obstacle, her Father a man of infinite spirit, and hauing had her by the widdow Queene of Macedon, after whose birth shee soone dyed, hee thought none worthy of her, especially, an Achayan, but ac∣quaintance with Rosindy, and seru••ce to Parselius had brought him so neere, as shee resolu'd in her selfe, if hee remained constant, what euer came of it to bee his wife.

In this resolution shee walked vp aud downe the Cops, plotting as ma∣ny seuerall waies to compasse her desires as plentifull loue could furnish her withall, at last an highway being through the Cops, and shee heard by that way, heard some comming downe towards her, and one to sing this Song.

FRom a long way, and Pilgrimage for Loue, I am return'd weary'd with Trauels paine, Not finding ease, or those vexations mooue: First, to my soule they are, where to remaine They vow to setle; then alas, can I Thinke of a rest, but trauell till I die.

When she had finished her song, Perselina standing among the bu••hes by the way side saluted her, who was a delicate, but distressed creature, in ha∣bits of a Pilgrime, but carying a countenance that said for her, shee was no∣ble, her traine halfe a dozen seruants of all kindes, two Gentlewomen, and foure men, all on foote with staues in their hands, bare footed and carrying their owne prouision in baggs at their backs, she onely had hers carryed for her. When she saw the Princesse (who in apparell Greene, and among the bushes appeard like Diana when in greatest perfection) she stayd, and with a modest salutation, according to her estate, answered the honour shee had receiued, by her saluting her. The Princesse desired her to rest her selfe a while with her. Madam said shee, then should I hope for that which yet I haue beene denied, rest neuer knew I any, one stop or other crossing me in it. I would not said she, haue you stand vpon the word, but agree to my de∣sire and meaning, which is, that you should stay with me, and so a little de∣sist from trauell. She humbly gaue thankes, but said, her habits admitted but iourneys. Eate and drinke said she, you must, let me but haue that time, and lawfully may I demand it, since your song tells mee your Pilgrimage is finished. Madam said she, in a kind it is indeede, but not perfectly, for till I finde my selfe in mine own home, I shall not think it done. Are you far from that•• No indeede, answered the Stranger, within a league, and this my ground. Perselina againe vrged, and ciuillity made her consent, so as thus she proceeded.

Madam, said she, to whose commands can bee no refusall, say what you will haue your seruant, my selfe, performe for satisfaction to your will, I must and will obserue you; come in said shee into this thicke, and there let vs con∣ferre. She obeyd, and willed her seruants to attend for her in that place, shee attending Perselina. Both in the thickest part as close as their sufferings were to themselues, they sate downe, the Princesse desiring to know the cause of her trauell•• She with as much desire of keeping that s••••ret, which must bee knowne, answered thus: Alas Madam, cryd shee, what torture doe you put me, a poore vassell to your authority, and loue, to rehearse that, which euery word strickes to my heart like daggers; hath my first sight giuen you such, dislike as you purpose to molest me? O•• my little conuersation such distaste, as you resolue to afflict me? Otherwise, why should you lay this waighty Crosse vpon me? Not to bring any of these, faire Pilgrime, (said the Prin∣cesse) but to know exactly what I already mistrust; led to it by your exellent speech, and manner; then said she, like a woman I will be pleased with your commendations, and as fond of them, follow your requests, I will yet by your fauour reserue some things to my selfe, and they are these, my name and Parentage, onely I beseech you let me call my selfe as I appeare.

Poore Pelarina your creature liued in this Countrey when it was in that happinesse, and innocency, as those dayes were, when Satir••, Nimphs, and Shepheards liu'd free with one another, fearelesse of harm••s; Wolues, Foxes, Sheepe, and Lambes, fedde, liu'd, and were as one Flocke, nee∣rer in familiarity then Goates are with the tamest now. Plenty grewe for men to reape, and they reap'd but what grewe for them. In this time I found my selfe made, mee thought, vnto loue, and I did loue, accursed bee this Groue for it; for heere, O heere, I lost my liberty, heere I walk'd, and discoursed with my selfe how happy I was, and all these parts that liu'd in that liberty where none felt straitnesse from the best man to the lowest flower, not so much as that the Cowslip look'd one whitt yellower in sus∣pition; that the Rose, Violet, or Lilly, were sweeter, delicater, or beauti∣fuller then themselues: all were good companions, and stroue but for so∣ciety without suspition, the true and perfect golden age was then, when riches consisted in truth, since skipt to the hard cold Iron where rusty dis∣q••iets eate, and spoyle, deuouring like Vipers their owne kinde, and now doth loue imitate that ill.

New come from hunting, in a Castle not farre hence, I first saw my first, & last loue; he was tall and slender, not so curiously shap'd, as extreame loue∣ly, and amiable, his haire browne he wore in good length, his apparell han∣some, not to curious, nor so neate, that discouerd not, hee rather affected ease, then fond Courtly vanities; hee was neither forward to discourse, nor sparing, when hee was acquainted to honour the company where hee was with his wit, which was incomparable, and so pleasing a way hee had in conuersation as made all hearts and eares his owne; what perfection was in all that sexe hee had vnited in him, and yet to this excellency as necessary to make him perfect man, hee had the most vsuall humous of change, and falsehood; woe is me that I must say so, but it is truth, and that can neither blush nor looke pale.

He came thither with a Lady hee seemd much to respect, and so much, as I was angry, and enuied her, before I knew I loued him, but that gaue mee cause to thinke it, and that thought to beleeue, and beliefe serued to con∣demne me, to the chaines. I was young, and some said hansome, but that was not it I hoped vpon, desert I meant should bee my meanes, and on that ground would I lay my foundations, which proud so good, as I gaind his loue; and truely may I say so, for he did affectionatly loue me, and cheerish mee as his eyes, which neuer were so well pleased, as when looking on mee, where hee said, and ioyed for it, that hee sawe as pretty expressions of loue, as women could discouer. Visitations hee caused to bee betweene his bro∣thers wife and my selfe, and why but to the ende of our meetings? Were I not forced to tell this, the more to shewe his disloyalty I would not men∣tion it; both to auoide doubt of vanity, and austentation, and my owne torment to say this was, and should I leaue it out, how should you know what you desire, which is truth, and my story? This conuersation wrought a loue, and vntyed affection betweene vs two; so as we were, and are cal∣led the true louing women friends, a rare matter (as men say) to bee found amongst vs.

Iourneyes to our seuerall kindred and friends wee made together, when

feasts were made, wee three were inuited as not to bee seperated, and so much his loue and mine was noted, as none would at any time in Coa∣ches, or at the Table deuide vs, loue being a thing so beloued, as euery one loues it for it selfe, in what place soeuer it be found to bee setled: so much I saw it marked, as had not my entire affection beene so violent∣ly raigning, I might my selfe haue beene nice to haue it so publike; but what did I heede saue his loue, the embracing of it in equall flames as giuen to mee, and so wee gaue the world cause to admire vs, rather then after their fashion, to accuse, or scorne vs. If hee were missing from Court, or any place where he had occasion to be, to mee they would come for him, and then was I best able indeede to yeeld accoumpt of him; but what shall I say? All things growe, and liue to change, not my selfe, but am changed from youth to yeares, from beauty to decay, from blessing to all miserie: what I or the World held strange but yesterday, this day makes vs know, and taste; Plaines are where Woods were, Sand onely, and bar∣rennesse in the fruitfullest places. Asia is barren that flowed in much plen∣ty, Cities wasted, ruin'd, and lye desolate that were the Earths glory, and for mine owne particular, I am vndone that once was highest in For∣tunes Paradise.

What shifts would hee make to hold vs together, or if a day absent to meete againe? How vnkindly would hee take the least looke of mine, if sadd, lest it had beene to him? And how kinde was he to me, neuer quarel∣ling, if not, that I was not as hee thought fond enough, or some time lesse fond of him then I was, which I neuer knew, nor could, vnlesse I would, or were able to leaue louing my owne soule, for little lesse dearer was he to me, or yet is. One night he came vnlook'd for to our house, but not vnthought on by me, nor vnd••sired by him: How did he ioy in his countenance to see me, an•• I reioyce to haue his sight? I was strooke with so much content as I was spee••hlesse, he blush'd with kind affection, I with agreeing loue, all Supper our eyes fed on one anothers lookes, writing our mindes in them as with Diamonds in Glasse, and no more permanet did his prooue. After Supper he would needes (onely to haue me with him neerer then he thought hee could in the roome) goe walke into a Garden to heare the Nightingale, I obeyed with as much willingnesse as he desired, and so calling the Lady, my friend, with vs, we passed away the time till night calld vs to rest, but a little rest tooke we, for our Chambers being neere, we sate and discoursed all night in a little Gallery betweene the Lodgings; the morning comming we parted, but like the first part of it with dewye teares, though but for some houres as we thought, yet it proued longer in a kinde, for ma••y weekes pas∣sed, before we could enioy so much happinesse as that night wee had, yet were our eyes blessed with each others sight, and our hands made happy with being linked within each others sweet, and softest prison, louing so much the bandes, as they would almost in kindnesse hurt, with hard, but kindest holdings. O me, how blessed was I then, and now how haplesse? Hunt we did together, and Hawke with such pleasure as drew enuy on vs ••oth, but what did we except our owne contentments value? He delighted in my company, I would haue dyed but hee should haue had it, nothing

thought I on but to please him, my study onely bent that way, nor tooke hee liking to any thing more then how to delight mee; thus agreede, what happinesse did wee liue in? Fauourites in their Princes eyes are not so great, nor happy as we were. This continued (alas, why vse I that word continue, hauing experience of the contrary?) but this blessing was for foure yeares space; then, I know not what Deuill, but the great one himselfe, Change, put in a spell, and wicked power against mee, bringing Beauty and Youth in excellency before his eyes, to make mee excellingly vnfortunate; hee was caught with those faire allurements, and I tyed to mischiefe by that taking.

Woe is mee, I lost all my comfort, all my ioy by that; but at last a grea∣ter ill tooke mee, for another got him from vs both, who had long sought it, but while he held fast to me, she could not gaine him, beauty was the vn∣tying of my blisse, and wit her losse, yet I had the fairer share in loosing that, a faire creature was my vndoer, like the fortune of Paris, she a terrible harme to haue her ioy, and hopes bereft her by a witt, which gaining dis∣couer'd her want. But I pittied her, though shee had robbéd mee, as if I should haue compassion of a Thiefe that another causeth to be executed, who hee had before stolne from me, and was forgiuen: so I forgaue her, and was sorry for her, who long outliued not her losse.

Was shee a marryed woman, said Perselina, when shee dyed? Shee was answered Pelarina. Did shee much loue, said the beautifull Princesse? Like Women that loue the ordinary way of loue said the other, whose affection, greatnesse, gifts, or such ends entice, not the vertue of loue it selfe; after her death hee vsed mee a little better then before, as if againe casting his eyes on me, for loue, or vse. Why, said Perselina, could you haue patience to endure him after hee had vsed you so vildly, as to change? Patience Madam said she, yes, and a greater wonder, in me affection continued strong towards him, and doth, though his Mistresse call'd it dulnesse, when I told her, good natures would haue giuen it the title of patience, but I excusd her for it; to witnesse my patience, I haue been with her in companies a∣broad, nay at her owne house, and seene all what I had once enioyed giuen to her, my eyes looked not on as if blear'd, my hand vntouched as if poy∣sonous, hers kist, babies look'd in her eyes, smiles flowing to her, frownes plentifully shewing themselues on me. I haue hunted with them, I haue gone (as one day I must needs remember aboue the rest) a Fouling with them, where so much fauour I receiued from him who was once mine, as she being a little parted from vs to shoote at a Fowle, he went as fast from mee as hee could without running, while his scorne rann to me. An other Gentleman was there, and none els, he was of his Family and kindred, and as true louer of me, as I was of his cousens, but him I as much shunn'd, and rather then goe softly with him. I went apace after my flyer, the way of necessity leading me to follow my disdainer. When they met, with what loue did he take her hand and kisse it? I following vnmarkt, but weary, and dabled like a hunted Hare in Winter, tyred with my disgrace, and weary of my wrongs, sweeting with passionate paine, and durted in despaire, yet loued I still. A bracelet he wore of her haire braided and tyed about his left arme, a peice of it one day

hung out, I saw it, and griefe with it, and yet a little ioy tooke me when I dis∣cern'd he knew it should not be seene by me, and that he had so much shame, or pitty as hee turn'd from me, blushd, and put it vp out of sight, I would faine haue said, your newe fauours too much discouer themselues, but I fear'd, or rather was loth to displease him; at first, he was a little, or much more strange, but after he grew sociable, and I continued humble, finding fault with nothing, but embracing all small curtesies, or the lookes like them as welcome, and so vsed them; yet so much it was marked, and I discern'd my losse publikely noted, as I grew sensible of it, and so a small deale wi∣ser, for needes I would be free.

I tried all meanes possible, but what force can peruaile against an impreg∣nable strength, or steely heart of Faith, and loue? Yet I vsed all instrumen∣tall meanes that could be thought on, I look'd off as oft as my heart could let me, I look'd then when I could not choose, with resolution to dislike, saying in my selfe, haue I suffered this for you that scorne mee? I would faine haue found fault with his shape, his fashion, or any thing, blaming my selfe for doting on snch an one, but these would not serue, for the more I loo∣ked, I saw more cause of Loue, gazing though to death; willingly I absented my selfe, and in absence, had got so much heart, as warranted me to see him againe, and haue my desire of carelessenesse; I ventured, assured as I thought, but couzened I was meerely; for though I came in like a Giant swolne with pride of my owne power, and assurance of my conquest, the true Knight Loue came armed against mee in armes of fire, and truth, I yeelded, and could but like a poore miserable Poet confesse my selfe in Rime, thus finding my error, with the blisse (I confesse) of seeing him who I found I could not but loue for all other resolutions.

DI•• I boast of liberty? 'Twas an insolency vaine: I doe onely looke on thee, and I captiue am againe.

And so indeed I was, for I neuer knew loue stronger in me, as then of necessity it ought to bee, contending with iudgement; multitudes I could reherse of his fauours, and disgraces to mee, of his mistresses feares, and smiles, but to what ende? All can but shew I was blessed, and am vn∣fortunate, my face and life say that for mee, onely this appertaines to the Story.

I at last was againe made beleeue he loued me, and I was (euer in that a wa∣uering religious) glad of it, proud of it, ioyed with it, and vtterly ruin'd by it.•• He was in shew as he was wont to be, I saw it, gladed at heart for it, others told me of it, I was like a Birde nice, and blusht, yet receiu'd it willingly; ad so, as I had cause, after finding his neglect againe, to grow with shame, and teares to repent my credulity, and to manifest it with my true peni∣tence. I therefore tooke this Pilgrimage vpon mee, which now I haue in a kind ended: I haue seene Hiersalem, confest my sinnes, asked for∣giuenesse, and remission, which I hope my desire of pardon, though not my merits, hath purchased mee, and thus I am returnd?

But are you free from loue, said Perselina? In troth no Madam, said the o∣ther, I loue him stil, but I hope it is now but charitably, yet I am afraid to try my selfe left I should finde my spirit like my selfe, fraile. The Princesse smi∣led at her pretty innocent confession, thinking that shee had learned so tru∣ly to consesse as shee could doe no other, yet in that shee was deceiu'd, for vnlesse shee would, shee could bee silent. But was your iourney and vow wholly made vpon this, wherin you were faulty but in vertue, or be∣liefe to it? Mix'd Madam, said shee, I professe, and mixture made it, I did so farre beleeue, as I granted what I may lawfully repent, and neces∣sarily also, but Loue my ruler commanded, and I obeyed. I could in my selfe say, why should I yeeld, I must deny; but when I saw him, my soule flew to him, he but asked, and I yeelded, yet this I repent not, but a vani∣ty I had about mee, which because once liked by him, and admired by our Sexe, or those, of th••m that I durst make my follies seene vnto, a fond humour of writing, I had set downe some things in an idle Booke I had written, which when hee saw, hee thought touched, or came too neere, or I imagine so, because in some places he had turnd downe leaues, and onely at such as he might if hee would dislike, and were those I thought hee would take notice of, yet he neither did by word nor writing, not ho∣nouring me so much, who was his slaue, as to finde fault, or to seeme pleasd. I was me thought left to coniecture, and the further I went in such coniecture I runne into feare and sorrow that I had offended, yet I can cleare my selfe if I might come to answere, but I cannot, not could, so as finding my selfe thus miserable, I tooke my Pilgrymage willingly.

What could you say to offend? In troth Madam, said shee, I discouer'd how neere I was to bee an ordinary louer after losse, which is to grow neighbour if not inhabiter with hate; and some two Poeticall and neate expressions I made of it, yet I came off, though hurt as it seemes in the acti∣on; but let him make the case his owne, and I doubt hee will ra∣ther cut the cord then vntye the knots: but I haue done, I forgiue all, and wish hee will also doe so with mee; I pray for him, and truely with∣out faigning I loue him for all this, firmely, and shall doe; let him vse his worst in scorne, which he hath prettily practis'd: I thinke hee can neither shew, nor, assure my selfe, study that cruelty which can make me hate him; nay, in earnest leaue louing, though it may bee I haue err'd in saying so, boa∣sting rather then hauing such strength; for which, great loue and you dearest beloued, pardon mee, I aske it with a repentant and clensed heart, and (if it please you) remember what cause you gaue; if not, nobly forgiue. Perse∣lina found in her selfe she should neuer come to that excellency of constancy; wherfore she admired, thogh scarce commended her richnes, in that plenty, and fulnesse, & being call'd by Rosindy, left the constant Lady to her vertuous vowes, and religious truth, who liued the rest as she had begun her dayes in feruent zeale and affection.

The King and Queene with the delicate Princesse arriu••ng soone after in Macedon, where they rul'd both with power and loue, loued with feare, because they fear'd they could not loue enough; the young Princesse soone after tooke her minde and former resolution, marrying her selfe with her chosen loue: some busines there was before it could bee effected; but the

effect came happily to their owne resolutions conclusion, & peace, the Nurse of loue was among them. Philarchos with Orilena going for Mytelin, met a Ship riding, or rather floating, for vnguided she was, vnrul'd, and vnman'd, tumbling vp and downe, like the Boates boyes make of paper, and play with∣all vpon little brookes: onely a Dogge, to shew some liue creature was in her, came on the hatches, and walk'd with much grauity, like an officer or kinde of watchfull seruant, he bark't not, nor fawningly sought ayde, by lea∣ping, whining, shaking his head, or wagging his tayle, or other such dog-like expressions, but look'd soberly, & entertainingly, like a steward on the stran∣gers: the Prince came and laid the Ship aboord; when Philarchos saw none but this guardian, he leap'd into her, and some of his Knights with him, the Dogge look'd on them, and as one might say, discreetly went before them, (as their guide) into a Cabin where a Lady lay on the ground weeping and wringing her hands, all in mourning, and more sorrowfull yet in her illustri∣ous expression then the mourning could shew mournfull, and therefore shee more then their habits mourn'd. Shee onely look'd vp, and cast her eyes downe againe, and her face against the ground, crying, Alas, haue I not beene miserable enough? must I in this assured quiet bee molested? can I not haue a restfull dying time allow'd me? shall not the Sea nor a cast-away Barque haue power to let mee dye in peace? then yet endure more, and know thou must (poore woman) dye, as liue in perturbation. Philarchos went to her, tooke her by the arme, and gently lifted her vp a little, vsing these wordes: none he••re purposeth to molest you, wee are, and will bee rather your seruants then disquieters, by chance we came to succour you, and now by resolution will, if you please to accept of it. Sir (said she) your noble disposition appeares in this, and God (I hope) will reward you for it, I am so lamentable a soule, and so vnable to thinke of ability (though grate∣fulnesse rules mee) as I am onely able to pray for you, and that I will not faile to doe; but Sir, you must leaue mee, for I am appointed to dye, and by him that hath power to doe it, if he had but onely commanded me, with∣out leauing me to this assurance. There is no necessity (saith Philarchos) in obeying you in this, who though condemn'd (as it seemes) by a power o∣uer you, gouernes not vs, nor can, though soueraiguize ouer you, subiect vs to his law: therefore I will not obey him nor you in this; fortune brought me fortunately to the finding you, shee shall likewise bring you to life, for wee will saue you, you are our prey, we will not in complement let you de∣stroy your selfe, it seemes you are dead to those condem'd you, you may yet lawfully liue to vs that redeeme you, howsoeuer, bee confident wee will conduct you hence and place you somewhere where you shall bee safe from a certaine ruine. That will more ruine mee (cryed shee) when I shall bee bar'd from obeying him whom I must euer obserue. What obligation binds you, said hee: Soueraignty of Loue, said she, and loyall subiection to his will. Tyes, said Philarchos, fit to bee durable, and affection indure, but else a bargaine is not to bee made onely of one side, you are free when hee breakes: to dye, said shee, neuer to liue disobedient to him who is my Lord.

The Prince knew such things as loue and loyalty were or had beene, yet hee was willing to diuert her from those courses because running to perill,

and therefore hee replyed, these were the expressions of purest zeale in loue: but loue was neuer ordained to be such a monster as to destroy, if hurt by change, tryall iudicially should helpe, not harme directly pursue. Shee sigh'd and lamented. Hee comforted and disputed, at last tooke her vp, part∣ly by will, partly by force from the ground, and carried her to his dearest Orilena, who kindly, like a braue noble Lady, welcom'd her: her Dogge would not part from her, but still attended her, lying when shee sate or lay on the ground at her feete; when shee stir'd, hee followed (seruant-like) her motions.

When shee was out of her Prison, which should haue beene after her death, and buriall, like one come forth of a fainting fit; shee look'd about and star'd like a Hauke that had beene hooded when shee comes first to sight againe: a decent and yet Princely salutation shee gaue to Orilena, which was repayed her with the like, and much courtesie. Philarchos com∣manded to put off from the other Barque. Two of his Knights that were brothers begged her, and went away in her vpon an aduenture with his consent, while they sailing towards Mytelin, gained so much of the sad true Lady, as shee brake silence so long as to deliuer this discourse. My natiue Land (though vnnaturall, because such cruelty was in the Countrey) is the sweet Iland of Nycaria, my parentage of the best bloud, next the chiefe Lord and his child••en, and of his house I am, though not of the same name. I fell in loue with a young Noble-man, much esteemed, and as any, honour'd for his brauery and courage; no spirit in the Island excelling his, if equalling, no wit comparable to his; nor no Nobleman endued with more vertues, as learning, horsemanship, and what els can bee required in such an one, whose noble descent answer'd or demanded these excellencies.

Hee loued mee like wise as passionately, and fondly, which at last was and is my ouerthrow. I liu'd with my father most commonly, but oftentimes I went to the Court, more (I confesse) to see him and ioy in his presence, then to see any vanity there; yet I both saw those sports the Court affects, and are necessary follies for that place, as Masques and Dauncings, and was an Actor likwise my selfe amongst them, though neuer affecting them further then to content him I lou'd, who I saw well pleased with all: many banquets I was the cause of when we met, and to my Fathers hee or∣dinarily did come, a strict friendship betweene them: neuer was hee, if absent quiet, if still one or other of my seruants were not wth him, nor was I without some of his perpetually with mee; not that I thought or could let so wronging a concipt come into mee that hee mistrusted mee; but out of sincere affection to haue euer some of his followers with mee, to giue occasion when I durst not else to speake of him: none neede bee kept to make mee thinke of him; for my thoughts neuer strayed from him, or staid one minutes space.

At my Fathers, (which was as fine pleasant and sweet a seate as any in that Countrey, there ran a delicate wanton Riuer, twining it selfe into e∣uery dainty meadowes armes; not deepe but fit for Dianaes Nymphes to haue vsed: in imitation of whom, my selfe and Sisters often went into it•• this Riuer came fauourably to grace the place, close vnder the Orchard wall: A backe way wee had through the Gardeus, out of which wee went, and

there bath'd our selues: an old Gentleman, a seruant to my Lord, watched vs, and so neatly carried his businesse, as wee neuer doubted him: but not being able to continue truer to himselfe then to vs, hee told mee of it, describing so truely all our fashions (being eight of vs) maner, wordes, and actions, as I knew hee spake truth, and (said hee) had it not beene for one thing, I could haue wish'd my master in my place. I ask'd him what that was? He said because one of vs kept her smocke on them, he would, he was sure most haue wish'd to see, I knew her whom he ment; for none but my selfe did so, and priuately I said in my heart I did beleeue him, and wish'd it too, so it had beene by the like chance.

This old man whose thoughts were young, and toung-nimble in such a kinde, louing the remembrance of what he was then past, at his Lords next comming told him of it: Hee straight wish'd his fortune. So did I, said hee, wish it for you, and told my Lady (for so hee call'd mee.) What, said she, answer'd my Lord? Nothing, replyed hee, but smil'd, and walk'd on. Hee came imediatly to mee, telling mee what hee had heard, and vrging mee to know what I thought when I smil'd. I truely confest, and hee as truely lo∣uingly tooke it, louing ioyfull thankfulnesse shining in his eyes. Twenty of these passages wee had, and as many seuerall Ladies, and of as seuerall com∣plections and dispositions almost fell in loue with him, in that time hee lo∣ued mee: thousands of curses I had among them; but as long as I prosper'd in his loue I cared for none of them, but sped (mee thought) the better, ra∣ther wishing so still to bee prayed for, so I enioyed the righter way. Such pretty testimonies hee gaue mee, as I must haue beene (vnlesse I had beene vnreasonable) forc'd to bee assur'd of his loue, shewing almost contempt to all others.

I was so, and with all faith imbrac'd and cherish'd it; so modest hee was besides, as I lou'd that in him, and saw it there a greater vertue then it is ordinarily esteemed. Proofes I had of it, for being alone, hee neuer was vnciuill, nor did offer what I as willingly consented not vnto; yet at last my father finding (as easily hee might of any, hauing beene a great Louer) that I was intirely his; hee coniecturd, that I could deny nothing, therefore would rather seeme to trust him, or els it was to binde him to him, if any such bonds can serue, or preuaile where true loue is. As one day when hee was to goe a iourney leauing him with me, farewell daughter, said he, and the like to you my Lord, and I pray you bee honest. Hee blush'd, what did I then? coniecture noble Lord and Lady, truely I was heartily asham'd; and yet soone got courage againe, when I remembred wee were not guilty: but the word honest made mee thinke of the contrary, that thought moou'd my blood in••o my cheekes, and stir'd occasion in him to discourse with mee of it; so as I feare that did more harme, which should haue preuented, if but in thought then before was thought on; for beleeue it, it is a dangerous mat∣ter to bee forbidden a sweet in loue, as I haue heard it credibly said, and know it in some kind exercised; but wee did fulfill his desire, and hee found vs as hee left vs, chast, but affectionately louing, which all forbiddings could neuer haue hinder'd or lessened, my father himselfe euen enuying vs, for his loue, (though to many) had neuer brought him so true an one as I was.

This lasted as long as it was possible for a man to bee iust, and longer then (except few) any haue beene; and yet I thinke truely hee had slip'd sometimes, but I knew it not, or had no cause, out of want, to mee to finde fault: But this fault came on his side, how easie was it for him then to take exceptions, who before would be readier to answer for mee, or my friendes, then our selues; yet hee did not absolutely in two yeares giue ouer his former fashion, though (alasse) his loue was dry∣ed, and like Roses by mee kept for the colour they had, and sweet∣nesse, the remembrance still held, but wither'd, and not themselues to bee knowne by sight.

At last such a quarrell hee had against himselfe (as if for euer louing mee) as hee grew discontented in my company; snapt mee vp, if I aduentur'd to speake; frown'd, if hee caught mine eyes on him, and withall plotted dis∣grace, carryed himselfe to mee, that his brother and his owne friends said it was too much. I bore it, and truely for all that left not louing nor grieuing for it; yet at last I got so farre, as my sorrow exprest it selfe, not so openly in show, though as neere in acquaintance; for it was an houshold guest with mee.

But so it happened at last, that this Lady hee had taken, and cast mee off for, loued another, which was to him discouer'd; hee liked it not, yet made no show of it, because hee had said, when euer hee mistrusted his loue hee should hate her, and that might hee, for heere hee was assur'd, or might bee: but other reasons held them together, yet it gaue him leaue to look on me a little again, and to me those lookes were like the sweet eue∣nings wherein the Larke delights her selfe so much, as shee flyes into it, ne∣uer satisfied with the delicacie, till at the height shee is forced to retire, bid∣ding that farewell: So did I, for I was forced to part againe from that; but in that halfe day of blisse hee tooke occasion to speake of old matters.

I was as willing to that as hee, and so wee discoursed temperately, in the end, hee said, for that cause, said hee, (speaking of a friuolous and vn∣waighty businesse God knowes) I lost you all, You had left vs, said I, be∣fore that time, with that hee sate a little neerer to mee, and (it seem'd) would haue proceeded, which I wish'd, for I made no question then of sa∣tisfying him if euer wee came to speake: but one of the wicked Ministers of my ouerthrow, as destin'd to spoyle mee, had such a spell, as in absence shee had a spirit able to ruine mee, sent for him, hee went, but promised to come againe. I attended, as resolu'd neuer to giue cause of dislike; but hee was stayed, and I in a mighty fret return'd to my lodging. Another time he tooke occasion being inuited, (which then he must haue beene, if he were desir'd at my fathers, which before had been his ordinary table) to a dinner my father made to many of his friends, and hee esteemd by him so, hee was solemnly inuited. He came, and at dinner sitting by me, fell into discourse of loue, and of womens inconstancie, as if I had beene guilty: I, knowing my innocencie, spake like that, and so vnderstood him not in shew.

Then hee fell to other kindes, yet on the same theame, and at last hee came to say, how poore Paris was vs'd for choosing well; for (said he) Iuno because a Queen wonld be belou'd. Pallas, a boystrous woman would fight, if

not chosen, poore Venus onely loued, and for Louessake wan the Aple, thus was he punished for loue. I thinke not for that so much (replyed I, by your Lordships fauour) that he was distresse, but for being false before to Enona. He said no more, and by that I saw he vnderstood me; yet after againe he had another Ierke at it, but in another sort speaking of loue, and returning to their former loues. There may be hope then, said I. Introth little, said he: for if euer, I shall come tatterd and torne, not worth looking on. Yet then said I, if to me you come, I will welcome, and cloath you. He looked pleased with me for yet, it opportunitie gained by the other, lost by mee, held him as shipps tossing in a Hauen, but winde-bound. Well, I grew desperate and indeed heeded nothing that befell me; in the conclusion I spake something, or some∣thing was said for me, which brought me vnder the compasse of the law, as farre as life came to. I was condemned, but he though an Officer, sat not on my Iudgement: some thought out of pitie, yet I tooke it not so, for his pre∣sence (in such a cause, wherin I protest I was altogether wrongd) might haue ayded me, at least his sight would haue comforted me in the condemnation, so much I loued him; but he was absent, and my misfortune so present, as I was adiudged to death; yet the Prince of Nicaria being mercifull, would not take my life according to the Countrie Law, but after another fashion would haue it as hee meant; for hee censured me to this, from whence you haue relieued me.

When I was to be put into this Tombe, as was meant me, the chiefe Lords and Officers came to see me (according to the Prince his order) committed to the Sea, into the Ship they put me with meate for three dayes, no man nor creature with me but my Dog, which would not forsake me, and they allow∣ed with me, not for loue, but hope of harme to me; for my Victuals they ima∣gined he would haue share of, and at last deuoure mee, being one of the fier∣cest in all the Country. But in this they deceiued themselues, for since wee came aboard, which is now eight dayes, he hath satisfied himselfe with very little, and neuer troubled me. A Fisherman came by, and would haue had the Dog, he entised him, but his faith to me (more then I euer found in man) his distressed Mistris, held him with me; hee threw him then a large piece of meate, which though stale, was good enough for a Dog, he tooke that, and fed a little on it, but as if weighing his estate, left part for other times; the man also gaue mee something, pittying my case, but not daring to helpe mee, left me.

Among the Officers that came to my liuing execution, my Lord was one, though he stayed not to see it performed, but came among vs hastily, stept to me, whispered, and bad me farewell, and be like your selfe (said hee) resolute, die confidently, and cherfully, this will comfort you, and honour your end. I heard him, but could not answere him, onely I looked vpon him, and with teares told him, his censure was harder, then the Prince his, for I loued him, the cause of all my miserie: but he scarce looking on me, as hasti∣ly went away againe, leauing mee to the fauour of the Windes his con∣stant Rulers, to the Seas furie, and Fortunes hazard, yet all kinder then hee, haue ioyned for my good: and I am saued by you braue Princesses, yet would I beseech you again to let me obay his commands, which because his, I would doe.

They refused that, yet so neare they came to fulfilling it, as they left her on a Rock in a little Iland with an old religious father, there shee remained, and spent the rest of her dayes in prayer, her Dog still garding her, which at her death brought her (who out-liued the old man) to haue a Christian bu∣riall by his howling and crying, calling passengers in, and buried her, but could not win the Dog from the graue, but there he died.

Philarchos and his deare held on their way for Mytelin, where with ioy, and feasts they were welcomed, and liued euer, till their ends happily, but Philarchos thought his end the crueller, because faire Orilena was taken from him, desiring to die together. The King of Bulgaria with his braue Queene, as sumptuously as their owne minds required, and their minds were no low∣er then such Princesses should be, but as much higher as ambition, and all the dependances of that folly could carry them, and that was high enough to make them aboue iudgement proud; such Coaches, Liueries, furnitures for horses were neuer seene before, yet they but poore as her Maiestie esteemed them, who surely would haue been contented to bee starued, so all shee had touched had been Gold and Diamonds. In this magnificence they tooke leaue of the King and Queenes in Morea, and so tooke their iourny towards Bulgaria, they only riding in one Coach, two other went spare, one for each, the traine so richly prouided for, as ordinary Kings and Queenes, would haue been well contented with that furniture, but yet these were scarce good enough for their seruants.

Out of Morea they went without aduenture, and so passed, till in Liuadia this fine accident befell them. A young Gentleman attended on by six Pa∣ges, apparreld in coates of Grasse-greene Veluet, laid with gold Lace, and twelue footemen in the same colours, all with Plumes of greene and yellow in their Hatts, the young Gentleman in a sute of those colours imbroidred with Gold, the trappings for his Horse, and all furniture answerable, came towards the most glistering troope of Bulgaria, then being instructed accor∣dingly, he presently allighted, and on foote presented himselfe to the Queen, humbly making a reuerence to her liking, the like he did to the King, then he deliuered these words.

Great, and most happy King enioying such a treasure, as hauing the worlds riches composed in this vnestimable Iewell, the Earths admired Starre, and mans wonder, your Queene, I am sent vnto you both; but if I faile in perfor∣mance of my message, blame your owne glorious aspects, that take from mee the true abilitie of speech and boldnesse, a Messenger should be armed with all; but who can without trembling speake to the Gods, or touch the Sunne, if he descend within reach? no more can I speake to you, whose Maiesties strike me dumbe, or make me (to say better) faulter like an vnperfect Schoole-Boy saying his lesson. They heartned him wi••h ioy, flattering pride nou∣rishing their proud hearts, when he proceeded. Pardon and grace (said he) from you so heauen-like creatures giues life with speech to me againe. I am sent from the Prince of Liuadia my Master, who hearing of your comming this way, doth desire the blessing I his Vassaile haue already enioyed, humbly beseeching you to honor him with your royal presence in his fathers Court, an old Prince, but good, where hee is within two dayes to haue a Tri∣umph, by meanes of manie strangers, and happie he is to haue such an oc∣casion

at this time to be the fitter to giue entertainement to such persons, he earnestly desires not to be refused, and I pray I may not be sent, but with the soules-like-comfort of blisse, which is your grant. The King was the finest speaker in Court language of the World, and so complemented, as the youth had enough to doe to returne halfe his good language to his Lord; for the Queene, shee soone had granted to shew her beauty, and scarce could hold within the bounds of expressing what she felt of ioy, knowing shee must bee admired, but at last said, she would obey her Lord, and accompany him to waite on his Prince; thanks she returned none, for she esteemed this honour but due to her, and knew it should be offered her. Forwards they passe, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 within the ••ight of the Court, where the Prince, and many Noble-men at∣tending him, met them in arming suites, and conducted them to the Court: but yet there wanted, though all this honour was done, that whereto her Pil∣grimage was made, her Saint was not among them, and yet vnproperly that is said, for she respected him but for ado••ing her; it was but earely in the day, being scarce foure in the af••ernoone, wherefore the Prince asked her, if she pleased to goe first into a rich Pauillion, raised from the ground at one end of the Lists, and see them practise, for that was their houre. She was very wil∣ling, yet stayd till her husband with curious words and phrases had consen∣ted; so they went in, from whence at the other end they discernd the old Prince and Princesse, with the graue Lords with them; then did the Prince arme himselfe, and the Prince of Iambolly, as not thinking of the good for∣tune to see her, but as if by chance led thither, came into that place to arme. She would needs goe forth, and leaue the roome to him, but so she did it, as al eyes might see, good manners, no•• wil to leaue him, made her offer it. He as curteous would rather (he said) arme in the field, then be so rude. She blusht, and smiled & ••imperd, & all to auoid expression, expressed what hee desired, and she granted. Her husband was gone with the Prince, and so saw not this encounter. Well, he at last got another roome, right ouer against that, and ar∣med, came downe into the lists his Beauer open; but to see how he stood ga∣zing on her, and she in what perplexity shee was, to the window shee would come, and a while stand still, looke on him, he stare on her, then retire; red with content, and yet finding fault with the hea••e as that the cause of her dis∣temper. Many Ladies were there likewise to see the sport, who lost not that better pastime in marking her, yet took no notice of it, lest offence might fol∣low, but shrewd wits there were, that after made pretie mirth at it. To the place againe she would come, and looke though ouer them, and see in spite of seeing, and as if whether she would or no take content. The Prince came al∣so, and stood there beholding as the rest did, while some others ranne; at last came a great man of that Country, and desired one of the Ladies there to be∣stow a fauour on him. She did so; Now you are engaged (said the Prince) to runne well, else your fauour will be shamed, and you for not better main∣taining it. I will doe gallantly, replyd he. The Iambollian then cast his eyes crauingly towards her, she onely lickt her lipps, that when they returned to sight, they might looke like cherries after raine, red, and plumpe, and totterd her head, which made a feather shake she had on it. Hee with that it seemed vnderstood her, and lifting vp his Bases a little of one side, as if to take out his Handkercheif, shewed her his points were of same the colour. Then shee

smiled, and he most ioyfully put downe his Beauer, and prepared to run, cast∣ing vp his eyes first to her, from whom he hoped to haue gained strength; but she was so weake in bearing passion, as againe shee had retyred, and so often she did it, and so tumble her selfe vp and downe, wallowing in pleasure, and vnsufferable content, as she was in such a heate, as that angred her, because she thought she looked not well, hauing too much colour; then did that heate her with chafing, so as betweene those two fires of loue and pride, shee burnt so much, as all the Ladies warmd themselues at her fire, and rubd vp the re∣membrance of their old passions, so as it might haue been dangerous, and the heate so great, and spreading, as might haue fired many hearts not to bee quenched againe. Fairely he ran, and fairely and friendly shee beheld him, which made him neuer wearie, nor would he haue giuen ouer, but that the Prince went in, and night grew on. Then came hee vp to her, and kissed her hand, which she told him by her loue bestowing eyes, she willingly yeelded him. Stay shee did as long as was fit, and after most in that place, wishing I thinke to haue been his Armorour to vnarme him, else she might haue gone with the rest: at last away shee went, and was by Lords, appointed by the Prince, conducted to her lodgings, where shee was visited by him, and her seruant.

The next day the Iusts in earnest was to bee, against which, how glo∣riously was she attired? Lyuadia neuer saw such a starre for brightnesse. In that place she would needs againe sit, and there she was placed, where shee might best see, and bee seene, the windowes being so framed, as the Knights heads on horse-backe were as high as they, so as conueniently they might behold and speake, as if together, a braue aduantage for Louers. But how did the neate King of Bulgaria take this? truly discreetly, as hee was a most discreet Gentleman, setting aside a little vanitie of selfe loue, which it may be so well concurred with his Ladies disposition, as that tempred him, being as it were of one nature to suffer, and agree with her. Fault it was certaine hee found none with her publikely, how they priuately did, let them speake that know; fondnesse appeared to open shew, why should any inquire further? But be it so, such a passion well acted againe, and by such delicate creatures, for the excellency of it would get liking, euen of her Husband sure, who lo∣ued curiosities so well, as he must like that, though curiously he might dis∣cerne he was touched in it. But what then? he might ioy in it thus, it was his owne, as she was.

Many great Ladies, and indeed the greatest of that Kingdome sat with her in the same place, but not so much as looked vpon by her, nor why should they expect it? shee was a stranger, a Queene; more, a beautifull Queene, and most, a most proud Queene, shee therefore claimed it as their parts to obserue, and marke her, who had businesse enough in her selfe vpon such a day, in such a place, and such a presence, to heed, and study her selfe. How if any part of her haire had been out of order, her gowne rumpled with turning to them, her ruffes and delicate inuentions disorderd with stirring? had not the least of these been a terrible disaster? Yes, and to her a heart griefe; who would wish so sweet a soule as she to be sad or troubled? espe∣cially since trouble as such a conceit of any displacing, or disordering her finenesse might moue in her, would stirre her bloud, and make her comple∣ction

not so exact, rather sure should all ciuilitie be laid aside, and the contra∣ry excused, then beauty should suffer; and this, if the cause, who will that loues their faces, that regards their habits, and their seruants loue, blame her, who neglects for these all others. This I take the Queenes case to bee, and thus I thinke I excuse her, especially being knowne to loue nothing but her selfe, her Glasse, and for recreation, or glory (as some accounts it) to haue a seruant, the Prince of Iambolly, whose greatnesse and finenesse made al well, especially to louers eyes. The old Prince inuited her and the King to a feast, where roially they were feasted, and she as magnificently carried, and shewed her selfe, her seruant ioyed in it, and then looked on her, as poore people doe on pranckt vp Images: she sometimes casting a looke on him, but not too ma∣ny, lest such fauours might make him surfeite, and so be harmefull to him, an excellent care in a carelesse Mistris.

The King of Bulgaria, and the Prince of Iambolly were very great and fa∣miliar, in so much as they would whisper, and embrace one another, the Iambollian assuredly more, because those armes had intwined hers, then for any affection to him, wishing sure he might as freely haue done the like with his wife, who how kind soeuer she might be to him in priuate, had he offerd to touch her publikely, that touch had burnt his fingers, so commandingly, and peremptorily did she order, and rule his loue, as adoration shewed to bee all his ambition and gaine, her graces being but still to hold, and draw him on in hope, rather then to consent, and satisfie him, for he once satisfied, shee was sure to bee left, men desiring but their ends, and with them conclude that loue flying to another, as from one worke done to begin in another place.

Stayed creatures, and luckie they that put confidence in them, and of any this Prince was one that least troubled himselfe with constancy, all women were pleasing to him, after a tall woman, a little one was most pleasing, after faire, browne, white, blacke, all came to his staidnesse welcomly, and varietie he had sufficient, for many refused not, nor was he nice to demand of more, so as he had plenty, and was plentifull in loue to them; yet here hee stayed a prety while, because it was thought hard to win her, or impossible to gaine her loue, for her so excellent beauty and greatnesse, but most, because as yet he had not surely compassed his desires. At dancing, because hee would not giue offence, he seldome tooke her out, but his eyes still attended on her, and when he danced, she more heeded that dance then any; shee was good her selfe in that exercise, and gained great commendations in Lyuadia. The time being come for the breaking vp of the company, the King and Queene tooke their leaues of the old Prince, and so did all the other Princes, many being there assembled, as a place much honoured, and hee a Prince admired ouer the World, for iudgement, learning and goodnesse; beside at that time ma∣ny came neare him from the Enchantment. The Prince of Iambolly would needs attend the King of Bulgaria (being his neighbour) home to his Court, but his daintie wife was the Attraction; his company was embraced and also the Prince of Thiques, who was to returne to his owne Country, a fine young Gentleman, and who had in curtesie conducted the Lady of Rodes after her cruell fortune in the refusall of Polarchos, and being intreated by the soueraignizing Queen to make relation of her end, hauing heard part before

by Pamphilia; he did it in this sort. Loue, or rather the ill flower of Loue, which you most incomperable Queene can know, neither being so much in power aboue the highest reach of his passions, which are rather your Sub∣iects then molesters, so ouer-ruled in that miserable Lady, as after Polarchos was with all his curstnes gone, she tooke her way also, but whither shee much cared not, nor look'd she for any company to attend her, those that came with her, dispearsed some one way, some another, leauing her, as her fortune had done, in all dispaires, for who euer alone indures one mischeife? I tooke pitty on her, and although my way was contrary, and I then almost at home, yet rather then she should be distressed in such a kind of want, I of∣fered my selfe, and she, though not very willing to company, accepted of my seruice; most I thinke, because she would haue some body to discourse with∣all, and well had she happened on mee, for shee could say nothing against men, that I had not as much, or more to speake against women. She could not say Polarchos had beene curst, or vnkind, but I cold haue said my Mistris had beene false, and so most cruell: if Polarchos left her vpon cause, mine forsooke me causlesly. She could not complaine, but I was neere rayling, so as with all the wranglings, and dislikes of both Sexes we trauel'd, yet the better I euer had of her, (though in losse) for shee was forced to con∣fesse her's was the fault, and with that so often done penitently, at last agree'd with mee, that Man was the constanter of the two vncertain∣ties.

When wee had pass••d the Gulfe of Lepanto, and the necke of land be∣tweene Morea, and Achaia, that we were got againe to Sea, into the Arche∣pelago, in one of those little Islands we were forced to stay, for she grew so weake, what with trauell, want of food, (for she would take no sustenance,) and her perpetuall sorrow which wrought incessantly in her, so as she could no longer without rest sustaine, nor so, but to her eternall rest, for there shee dyed desiring mee to bury her there, and then to let Polarchos know her end for his vnkindnes, to whom she gaue her Country for due she said to him, beseeching him to accept of it, as the gift of his repentant Loue, ma∣king so louing an end, as Cupid was surely forced vpon that to pardon all things past, and place her in one of his highest ranckes of his Court. Iust as she dyed came thither an other Lady discontented likewise, but in a marue∣lous strange sort; my eares were now open to all complaints, and complay∣ners, wherefore I gaue her the hearing, who discoursed in this manner.

I was borne said she, in Pantaleria, bred in the seruice of Vrania, now Queene of Albania, the most excellent, and famous of women, I was with her enchanted in Ciprus, and in her seruice, being Daughter to her supposed Father; I fell in loue with one Allimarlus of Romania, a man fit for a greater womans loue, but my fortune it was to winne it, and surely if I flatter not my selfe too grosly, I deserued it; but indeed I did commit some faults, but what were they? only out of Loue, and feare of losse from whence they procee∣ded, such errors were rather to be commended then condemned, but where loue failes, a little matter is made great, and nothing pleaseth when distast is taken. I cannot truely for all this, taxe him of much inconstancy, yet so far he was faulty in it, as I know he had a Lady in chase, whether his loue to her, or gratefulnes in him to her had beene the cause of it, I cannot guesse;

I was tormented in soule withall, I cryd to him about it; He mildly, and cold∣ly enough told me my suspitions made my disquiets, and bad me be satisfied for he lou'd me still, and thus I could gaine no more of him, nor durst I vrge, for intruth besides loue I was in awe of him, fearing his very frowne, though on others; no Louer euer longed more for the sight of his loue then I did stil to see him if absent but one day, yet when I saw him I was in paine, and knew not scarce what I did, I was so desirous to please, as I was amazed, and distemper'd not being able resolutly to call for any thing, to eate any thing, to speake any sence, blush, and then looke pale, and be in such a case, as many dayes after scarce recouer'd me. Lord, how haue I accused my selfe for it? but what remedy? passion ouerruled my iudgement, and when I should haue beene best, and looked best, the very extreamity of my loue, made me worse then ordenarily I was; then that troubled me, and trouble made me worse, so as I was oft times in a straight, whither I were best be a meanes to see him often, or let his visitations, and meetings be by chance. But when I conside∣red he might take that amisse, and so I should runne into iust dislike, for our parts (as women Louers) are to obserue, so as I continued like one ready still to goe to execution, condemn'd, but repriu'd; more then I studied how I might gaine his loue sure to me, of purpose I went, and made my selfe so deere with the Lady, who had sure testimony of his liberall affections, as I was made of her Counsell, and vsed in carrying the busines so, as her ho∣nour might bee saued, (for shee was in that kind in danger,) I tooke such a course, as shee was deliuered of that care: this I did, conueied away by dili∣gence all suspition, I know not what name this seruice merited me, but all things were as they should bee, and so secretly as no mistrust at all was of her.

The Lady in troth I could not but so much loue, as I was sorry, as shee likewise was at any time to part with mee: in the face of parting, me thought I saw my Allimarlus his leauing me, whom he loued, and after I accused for slighting her, as much as I did before for being restrained in this manner to me, for desert should euer merrit reward in what place soeuer, but men care no longer then their desires be answered, said shee, otherwise I had bin better rewarded; I haue had cause to giue trial of my faith, and he hath found it, yet am but more and more wretched.

When I felt my selfe with such neglect coupled, (as after I did) I tould him of it, he sate vpon my bed side, but awhile gaue me not a word, at last he spoke some few, as drawne by necessity from him, and bid me be carefull of my selfe, and not bring more harme. I told him I would be so, were it but for that command's sake, which must bee (as his) aboue all things else most deere to me.

This mooued him no farther, not so much as to looke on mee, but sate still as if he repented I had euer receiued such lies from him, although his be∣trothed Wife. Some men would kisse their wiues when they heard such pa∣tient replyes, and almost all ioy in it: but hee temperately heard me, as not much concerning him. I was afflicted at it, and did stomacke it as much as my loue would permit me, but what auailed it? I carryed it with infinite paine secret from knowledge, suffering what Beasts neuer doe, yet Christi∣an like, I euer stroue to turne my selfe from violent hurt, but being so great with rage as no longer able to conceale it, I retired to some land of an Vncles

of his giuen him for his attendance; there I remained, but being neere the Towne, I was so often visited, as it was troblesome to mee, and dangerous for my griefes discouery (for he would haue it conceal'd) I was sometimes forced to keepe my chamber, he desirous not to haue it knowne I was any way his wife, I obeyed, and made many excuses while he ioyed in my paine, thinking it a braue, and dainty thing to be such a sole Lord, and free from en∣combrance, for I durst not meddle, nor finde fault with any his actions. He came also, and would bee as ready to iest, as any to cleere himselfe, for hee thought the contrary discouer'd; I was forced to be contented, yet with a full resolution to speake with him about it, & to know why his graue looks, and countenance was vsed to me. I went to him one night, but rightly was I ser∣ued for such boldnesse, and presumption, for backe I came with so much scorne, neglect, and contempt, as I was almost mad withall, yet I stroue to make no shew of it, nor I thinke did, although I truely confesse I was much disquieted withall, and so netled, as I slept not all the night after. Could he not said she haue kissed me, bad me welcome, and kindly haue vsed me, but thus? thus to let me returne? neuer more shall he be visited by me, nor did I come then to inuite him want only, or to craue Louers reward, but chast∣ly to discourse of things I could not at other times speak of; yet chastly or o∣ther, all was one, I was coldly sent home, to warme my selfe in choller for disdaine, nothing so much fretting me as that I staid so long, and waited on his crueltie, as to practise obedience; Not to offer but when I should, nor to come vncall'd I was taught, and these things I thinke I shall put in vse now; I haue beene heere these two Months with some trustie friends, landed here for fresh victualls as I pretended, though neither confin'd by his command, but sent the shippe then away; he likewise hath beene with his Master the King Antissius, but by this time he will be vpon returne, and I will not faile attendance as soone as I can; in Romania, againe relieued by his power, and will. Then did she as one distracted, fall from one passion into another, leau∣ing complaining, and chafing, and from crying fell to singing, and twenty of of those passions had she, hauing profited but little in her Mistrisses seruice for louing exactly well, so as little pittie needed to grow for her, vnlesse that one should not long enough enioy such follies to passe away time withall, yet in her case shee mooued more compassion, because greatly distressed. Songs said the Queene, doe often times discouer sadnes. Not such said hee, for I haue beene acquainted with passions as well as any, and know of those kinds of passages. Was she not marryed to Allimarlus said the Queene? In∣troth said the Prince I cannot directly tell, she spake not of it much, but by her words I found she was assur'd, yet how did she come then to bee trusted by his Mistris? It may be said the Queene, that was before they were mar∣ried, or know to be assured, or such a respect there was to be vsed to her, as she might serue her for all she was his wife. I know not said he, but that went very farre. No way (though endlesse replide she) but will be aduentured, by a firme louer, as I haue learned lately by discourse with some, and of some, though I confesse I should neuer be such an one, but scorne and contemne, such humility. None can expect from you such a harme said hee, where be∣nefit is sufficient, if you grace him with accepting his seruice, in which his life should bee spent, rather then you in the least feele smart. She liked his flattery, & he knew it, but very seldome vsed it, because hee was vertuous;

then she vrged extreamely to know his discourse; he seemd not able to refuse at last, and therefore told it thus. When I was a very young man, I was like∣wise very foolish in being passionate; Loue was such a Lord ouer me, as I did as he pleased, looked as hee did guide me, sighed when hee compelled mee, wept when he let mee fall into despaires, sonnetted when hee inspired mee with it, woare colours for sakes, if hee priuatly told me, I ought so to doe, for fond women loued vaine expressions. I could sit a day but to see her passe by me, and thinke that time happily bestowed if she then cast a look on me, if she passed carelesly by, or worse, accompanied with others she shewed more fauour to, then to mee, I returned molested, and presently put my thoughts into sad Verse, presented them to her, and if thankes came, I was blessed, and most fortunate. Thus I liued, spoild good paper with vild Rimes, lost my time, and wits almost, till I was happily disinchanted by this meanes. The La∣dy whom I lou'd being told by me of her neglect, counterfeited that she loo∣ked strangely vpon me, out of no other end then pollicy, and afterwards pri∣uately sent for me many times, where I enioyed what I desired, and with that reward Nouice like returned so contented, as if I had gained a kingdom, and gaue her by that meanes liberty more freely to abuse me in my confidence, which she did. Another Lady that was daily with hee, and a kind of seruant of hers (for she I loued was great enough, had she been as good) loued mee exceedingly well, and (whether out of that only, or a little malice mixt with it, I know not) discouered to me, that I was wronged: You (said ••he) keepe a busines, and make all men see your passions, bring your selfe in danger, if her husband heare of it, sigh, and keepe a quoile, while others gaine your due, blinding your selfe with blind Loue against all reason, thinking you are bles∣sed, when you are abused; as yesterday I saw what an happy man you tooke your selfe to be, because while Musick was, she leaned on you: alas, shee did that to colour and deceiue you, for all that while her eyes were fixed so amo∣rously on another, as would haue, I feare, made you mad to haue seene it, and truly it distemperd me, because I wish you wel: she talked, it is true, to a third, who was as well cousoned as your selfe, for he thought she fauourd you with leaning, to haue the freer liberty vnsuspected to speake to him, and so smild at you, while he that indeed had the affection laughed at you both. Leaue your fond loue, but not louing her, if you find shee requite you, but bee not a stale for others gaine; open your eyes, and see her beauty fit to be admired, her person loued; but if her mind bee not answerably white, bee not caught like Birds in a greene net: I haue truly seene you so much iniured, as I cannot hold from telling you, take it as you please, but one day you will say, I was your friend. When she had said this, she went againe to waite, and I remained pensiue, doubting what to doe, till I was sent for by one of my Ladies Cham∣ber to her; there how did she cherish me, and make of me? my picture she must needs haue, because continually she could not haue mee, Verses I must needs make to a tune she then had heard, & lou'd, for no writer pleasd her but my self, so prity, so fine, so passionat my lines were, and so truly from my hart, that she most truly lou'd them.

Then she wrung my hand, hung vpon mee, I embraced her with the other arme, she euen yeelding her self into my breast; Alas, thought I, is it possible this womā shuld dissemble, her eies ouerflowed with loue, laboring to shew suffering, for what I shuld belieue. I was amased, & so perplext, as she swore I

loued her not, began to lament her selfe, wept, and cryd; O vnconstant men, faulty aboue expression; then fainted she, and seem'd to swound. I bestirred my selfe then, being in a roome I durst not call for helpe, lest her husband should come in, who was suspicious enough: I kissed her, and with my breath fetched her againe. She againe fainted, I againe reuiued her. At last, Ah my heart, said she, canst thou be cruell? I vowed I was not; with oathes and pro∣testations I satisfied her, comming away after some howers a fine deluded Foole. The other Lady I went to find, to whom I meant to speake my mind, and chide her for such tricks to abuse her Mistris, with full intent so to reuile her, as to be f••ee euer afterwards from her aduising. As I went along the pri∣ny Garden, I saw a man come muffled in his Cloake, stealing as it were along the wall. I knew the fashion (said he) would not be seene, and the place none came into but her Fauorites, therefore to her he must goe, none hauing keyes but by her permission; there was in that Garden a large Mulberry tree, vn∣der which I closely clapt my selfe, with my back to it, but face so, as I might see which way he tooke; he slunke along still, till hee came to a doore which opened to a staire led vp to her chamber; there he stood a while, at last a win∣dow opened aboue, then he hemd, presently came downe her excellent vn∣chast selfe, opened the doore, and tooke him in, locking it fast againe. I seeing this had the Spleene, and sweld, yet held on my determination to seeke the Lady, though the discourse must now be altred. Quietly for any noise (ex∣cept that in my heart, where there were stormes, and all maner of disquiets) I went out of the Garden, Alas, said I, could not shee bee satisfied for a little time, but must make me see my misery? this is double vexation. I passed on, and to my chamber I went first, there I fell to complaints, and grieuously tooke on, but all auailed not; I cald my selfe vnfortunate, her vngratefull; I accursed, she vnnaturall; I bewitched, she the Sorceres: I cryd out against my birth, mine eyes, mine owne life, my iudgement, my beliefe, wished I had bin borne an Heritick to loue; all these, and what of these? they made me but stil a greater Foole, and lesse to be pitied. Then I rose in a chafe, vowed to loue her no more, to tell her so, to let her know her offence & breach in loue. This I li∣ked, and instantly would put it in practise, and if I found him there to kill him in her presence. These were braue resolutions to dreame on, and as well con∣tented me, as if executed, like him that dreames hee hath his Mistris in his armes, and wakes with such pleasure, as he is merry all the day after: so these alike pleased me, as I was ioyed at heart, and thought all effected, while the time it should haue been effected in, slipt away; which when I found, as by the euening I gessed, I went vp againe into the Lodgings, where I met the iust Lady my friend, she had discerned the tricke, being wise, and as carefull as a Louer will be, she came to me, I took her by the hand, which was more then I had euer (till then) done, fearing such a thing might haue offended my Mi∣stris, who I knew something giuen to that suspition, makes men see womens loue by, else if carelesse, what should be thought they esteemed. My Lord said she, you haue been wonderously made on this After-noone; What think you, was not I extreame faulty to put any such thing into your head, conside∣ring how true shee is to you, and how kind? Can you euer looke on mee that haue thus deceiued you? Take pitie on mee, sigh'd I, I am alas ab••sd, and iniured, let not your true tongue be sullied by your selfe, you are

and were most iust in telling mee, what I could not else belieue; then did wee discourse a little longer of it, at last forth came the great wicked woman, with as bold a countenance as ill could set vpon one, smild on me, saluted al the rest, and came to me, laying her hand on mine, and after her manner talking to vs, I seemd neither fond, nor neglectiue of her fauours. This is well acted, said she, then cald shee for Musick, which came, and indeed was exceeding rare, songs there were of all kinds, and in seuerall languages, an houre this continu∣ed, or more, then she retird again to supper, saying, shee would come after∣wards abroad againe. We euery one took our own waies, I to my chamber, purposing soone after to depart for my own country again, my Youth in tra∣uell hauing led me to such folly, which nothing but woful experience could bring me to know, or shun; yet me thought I was bound to let her know her ill before my going, le••t shee with continuall practise ran too farre in it, and so might at last be dangerous vnto her. As I resolued on this, and was going to her, I met her Lord in a mighty fur••, his sword in his hand, and bloody; I star∣ted at it, my Lord (said I) what is the busines? can my sword or life serue you in any thing? No, said he, I haue done already, only sir if you please call my Guard to me. I went forth and cald the Guard, who straight went as he direc∣ted, bringing forth the dead bodies of my Riuall, and the Lady; in truth I was sorry for her, because she had been friendly and kind to strangers, and whose bloud I would haue reuenged, but mine told me, her husband had but righted himself. Then came her women, crying and tearing their haire, them he took and sent to prison, only I got liberty for my friend; and when all this stir was ouer, I took my leaue, and left the Country, and louing also, for the good man telling me how he was wrongd, made me see her damnable falshood, so as he was but the chiefe of many abused by her, we al his followers, and alike vsed; for in the very abusing him, he seased on them, & kild them both. This (great Queene) is a story scarce fit for your Excellency to heare; but this is the truth which you desired, and thus you haue it; now if men be faulty, you see wo∣men can be so likewise; if wee erre, your sex will not let vs passe vnrequited. The Queene said little to it, but on they went in their iourny, much kindesse, affection, and respect vsed, and increasing among them; at last in Bulgaria they arriued, where at the first entry they were entertaind with multituds of people to welcome them, the King liked it well, so did the Queene for the part of humilitie, but shee could not indure their rudenes in pressing, which she said made her hot, and the smell of the folkes troubled her, whose dainti∣nes could not brooke any sauour but perfumes; with little patience therefore she sufferd this hearty welcome.

To their great citie they came, there they were againe met with the chief, and people, but she was now vsed to it, and so a little the easelier boare it. Then the King feasted the Prince of Iambolly, and triumphs were made, which lasted sixteene daies, in which time the seruant and proud Mistris had many prety fine passages. A hunting they went, he attending her, who some∣times would bee fierce vpon it, another while rid softly, as if onely to make him learne to ride fast, or slow, as her pleasure was, but still to bee her atten∣dant, it was his principall lesson to obserue. At her comming backe to see her ride betweene her husband and her seruant, what a sight it was? but what a glory to her? onely her imaginations which were aboue any height of pride

could tell; but he must goe now to his owne command, a pitifull thing, yet necessary, he could not dissemble, but shewed with a sad or dull countenance he was sorry; she with Maiestie and greatnesse, but no mirth, gaue testimo∣nie shee reioyced not, if in this time hee had no strickt assurance of her loue, none will pitie his parting: howsoeuer, she carried her selfe like a braue and commanding Queene ouer her owne and his passions. The King brought him some part of his way, then parting louingly, and some thought most wil∣lingly on the Kings side. The Prince, with the Prince of Thiques going to∣gether, who after, neuer, or seldome parted: the King returned, and with his wife liued as such a couple could doe.

Leonius and his beautifull Veralinda returning towards Frigia, first going to Argos by the Kings directions, wherein they met a delicate Aduenture, as they were within some few leagues of the Sea, a Lady on horseback, atten∣ded on with many other Ladies, and as many Knights, but by her side rode one, who seemed to be the chiefe, and yet his countenance sad, and melan∣cholly said for him, that he commanded not himselfe, how euer hee did the rest, his Hat off, freely left to view a delicate curld head of haire, browne, but bright in delicacy, a faire forehead; amorous, though then sad eies, which yet in sadnes soueraignized: his mouth not needing to speake, but only seene al∣lured vnto it what hearts it pleased, to take and refuse; enough he had of each sort, his lips being so louely, and louingly ioyned, as one may belieue, would not willingly part from their mutuall kissing. The Lady was great, and there∣fore faire, full of spirit, and intising, pleasing and richly shee was attired, and brauely seru'd, an excellent hors-woman, and hunts-woman she was, though these be no properer commendations, as some haue said, then to say, a man is a fine Semster, or Needle-man, yet qualities that were, and are commended at this day, allowed of, and admired.

When they came nearer to them, they sent to know, if they might bee so bold to present themselues vnto them, whom by inquiry they had obtained knowledge of. The new louing couple admitted them, Veralinda kissing the Lady, and Leonius embracing the Knight. Veralinda then soone after askt the Lady, what those many Doggs and Bowes were for, which she perceiued amongst them. She answered, they were her Hounds, and that shee was go∣ing to hunt, when her better fortunes brought her to her presence; the Bowes were either if a Stag came fairely to her, to shoot at him, or to saue the Dogs from death at a bay, by giuing his death to him. Veralinda had neuer seene hunting, and therefore was desirous to enioy that sport. Leonius was as well pleased, because hee was best pleased when giuing her content; the old King trauelled on, the young folkes promising soone after to ouertake him. The Lady then brought these dainty Princes to a large Wood, about the sides they placed themselues, the Doggs and Hunts men were put into it to beate, and bring forth the Deare, which in short time the Hounds came forth with a mighty Stagge, the Hunts-men following, incouraging their Doggs with Voyce and Horne, that Veralinda thought, this Consort was the delightfulst that euer her eares had heard; and such life it put into her, as she spared nei∣ther horse nor way, but followed with great affection the sport through Woods, ouer Plaines; through Thicks, Brakes, ouer Hills, no place staid her. The Lady kept with her, and commending her euen vnto a fury for riding:

at last by a Pond side, where the Stagge had taken soile, he gaue a bay to the Doggs, then came in the sweete sad Gentleman, and with so temperate a brauery, shot the Beast, as euen his hurt reioiced him, turning his face to him fully beholding him, and as his last piece offerd himselfe a sacrifice vnto him, falling by degrees as a great house will doe, but yet runnes to the place it came from: so to the earth fell hee, Veralinda was then cald to take the say, shee was ignorant of those ceremonies, yet apt to learne, and willing to in∣struction, she did as she was directed. Then the Hounds must bee rewarded, and the Hunts-men giue him a peale of Hornes melody, in stead of Bells harmony, for his funerall.

All which ended, the Lady besought the Prince and Princesse to honour her so much, as to goe with her to her house, which, not farre off, was ••it to lodge in, night being growne vpon them. They consented, and rode thither, where they found an ancient house hansome, great, and where it seemd good hospitalitie was kept, but little curiositie obserued, for all roomes appeared, as still visited with company, and gaue by the fauours testimony of quantity of victuals, which well ordred, had been noble, now a little troublesome; but it pleased reasonably well this company, who free, and hauing rid hard, had gaind good appetites, it appearing to them like a Garden full of fruite, when the hot weather troubleth them, they sat downe, the Lady most kindly, free∣ly and busily bestirring her self, entertaining them the fine Gentleman ciuil∣ly discoursing with them; Leonius at last growing so farre in with him, as he got him to tell this story.

I am great Prince (said he) called Curardinus, borne of a good Family in this Countrie, beloued and serued; but as all things must see conclusions, so did Fate appoint our greatnesse to conclude thus. My father liued after his fathers death many yeares, will esteemed of by the King o•• these Countries, emploid in office by him, and held among the best in ranke of his fauour, but matching himselfe (after the death of his first wife) with a young Lady of a great and noble family, but too great as the King imagined, or was perswa∣ded by his enemies, suspition grew into his heart, or rather shewed it selfe (for few Kings are without that seruant to attend them) against my father, who to auoide all cause giuing left the Court, and retird himselfe to his owne home, where he liued pleasantly, and was for an addition of his happinesse blessed with children, a blessing to a father, what euer the being borne, proue after to the children. I was his first, and after some yeares before I came to perfectablenesse to gouerne his estate, at least according to the lawes of this place; hee died, leauing mee heire to his fortunes, honors, and dislikes of the King: I then desired leaue to trauaile, that was refused me, and all things as offices, commands and places soeuer my father held of the Crowne, giuen away to others. This was a disgrace, and truly a vexation vnto me, and most, that hee would not permit mee the fauour granted to euery sub∣iect, but obedience taught mee patience, and I was contented by neces∣sitie.

In this forst pleasure, I went vp & down among my friends where I was de∣sird, and so liu'd a solitary and priuate trauelling life, where remouing imita∣ted trauell; and each odde accident an Aduenture. By my mothers side I had, and haue many noble, and braue friends as any man can haue, the men

equally, or aboue any valiant, and wise, the woman in that height of excel∣lency for beauty and witt; among them I haue much liued, who haue found the like fauour, so as we are not only neere it in blood, but allyed in thwart fortune, kept backe by all meanes from any aduancement, or honor, vnlesse the imployment were such as might giue a blow, if not a certaine ruine to any of vs, (a comfortable estate when Subiects liue in such dislike with their Prince:) yet did he vse vs openly well; let vs come to waite vpon him, wee shall be welcom'd, and smil'd vpon sometimes, but aske any thing, and bee surely denyed, & after, not for a good space look'd on: this hath cast vs much downe, and greeued vs more then hurt vs. Are you a single man said Leonius? No Sir, replyed the dainty melancholy, I am married, and haue beene long, the more my misfortune in some kind, because I haue with that marryage lost one, loued me more then I could aspire to hope of requitall, and loue's me still; I was not altogether to blame indeed, for I knew not her affection so great to me, she not aduenturing to speake it, I not thinking my selfe so hap∣py, daring to imagine it, but after some time she tould me of it. How did I then curse all my fortunes, and yet at last chid my selfe for it? since said I, I was borne to be wretched, and all other crosses haue beene but as forerun∣ners of my misery; this the only Master peece of affliction, wee met, & wept many times together, and yet those teares produced pleasure, because so shed, and then we could be merry, and neuer but in the highest griefe conten∣ted, because together, for therein our last happinesse consisted. But her fa∣ther marryed her (whose iudgement told her, obedience was requisite) to a rich, but worthlesse fellow; this was an other vexation to her, and doubly by that meanes it wrought in me, to see her greeued, and such a Clowne to posses what I most loued, and held deere, he no more esteeming her, nor in∣deede vnderstanding her worth then a Beast, or one of his Goats. Miserable Lady, but most miserable I, that saw, and could but grieue for it; besides this, he grew yet more brutish, and vsed her ill, growing so intirely iealous, as none went away vnsuspected, her worth, beauty, and noblenes, inuited all eyes, and hearts to her seruice, but so chast, and iust she was, as but with cour∣teous requitall any preuailed; but her worthlesse Mate thought so ill of himselfe, as that made him thinke well enough of any to wrong her withall, Iealousie's roote being selfe knowledge of vnworthynes.

Thus most sweete Creature she liued, discontents brought her to many harmes, bringing diseases, and (the worst) sicknes of mind, finding still ad∣ditions to her first disquiet, and miserable losse, as her affection was pleased to call the missing of me, which surely she could neuer haue know, had I but guessed her thoughts. A good space I held in with him, but at last fell like the rest, and most dangerously; in that time I met her, my hearts ioy, and soules delight; at her fathers, she was sad, but most louing to me, I sad to see her so, but most glad to see her loue, holding her (I remember) by the hand, if said I thou wert vnmarryed, would'st thou not marry againe? No I protest said she, but liue wholy to be directed by you, which I had euer don, had I knowne how to liue with honour, and fit to be your seruant. Yet should you bee free, you would not doe so much. Yes I vow said I, and bound it with a kisse vpon her fairest hand; deerest remembrance, how dost thou yet please me, to bring before me these pass'd, yet sweete delights? to

make tryall of her faith, and word keeping, she was by heauenly assistance vn∣tyed from her bond, and freed from her clog, the rude and brutish Thing, her Husband, being taken from her, no hand, but the hand of the best, and highest parting her; as from aboue seeing, and commiserating her estate; all that were vnmarryed in the whole Country, came and sought her, shee re∣fused all; Widdowers, Batchelers, all were alike to be denyed; old, young, middle-aged runne one race of being refused. Her father much disliked it, her friends, and kindred, and such perswaded, but endlesly her resolution, was like the Earth fixed, and her constancy like the Sunne certaine, and rich∣ly faire: some also came to me, (seeing the grace I had with her) to get mee to preferr them; alasse how far they went astray? yet I answer'd all of them alike, that she had resolued to marry (if euer) one of her owne affections chusing, so what with my slight answers, and her direct refusalls, she, and I were left quiet, and so in truth we were, for her Husband left her happliy, both by his losse, and a faire estate hee gaue her at his end, to make amends partly for the ill she had indured.

To her I often went, and stayed as long as I could, and neuer found her displeased but for my parting, what blessing can any on Earth wish to equall such a blisse? and this I inioyed, and might still haue done, but; With that he sigh'd, aud look'd so deadly pale, as if that But had beene the Axe to take away his life. Leonius desired him to proceede. He turned his face (they before both leaning against a Table) to the Boord, and hung downe his head ouer it, groaning as if his breath had beene in contention with his body to goe, or to be stay'd; at last Leonius likewise leaning downe•• and earnestly perswading with him, he lifted vp his eyes on him, (eyes that would con∣quer in what looks so euer they pleased to attyre themselues,) and putting his hands together, Oh my Lord said he, be contented with this you haue. As they were thus in intreatyes, and excusings, Veralinda came, and the La∣dy, so as they were now brought to a conclusion, and for that night parted, the Lady with much Ceremony (as excellent she was at it) bringing the Princes to their Chamber, then all parted to their rests, but the swe••est sad∣nes, who remained all night as his expressions of his fortunes shewed he had beene troubled. When day came he rose, and went downe into a Garden, there he walked, and let the hower slip away vnthought on as his steps, Le∣onius longing for the end, sought him out, and finding him, would needes haue him goe on.

Then Sir said he, I must beginne againe with But such was my misery, as I fell into a great, and strict acquaintance with this Lady, which she did dis∣like, though not me, as since I vnderstand, but then did belieue, by reason of some slight carriages she shewed me, but causlesly I did mistrust her, and o∣penly leaue her. She that had none of the lowest, but rather highest spirit of the World, yet humbled it selfe to seeke me, vngratefull I, accepted it not; a Iourney I was then to goe, in which shee writ to mee affectionately, and kindly as euer, which I tooke well, and writ to her a letter that she liked, vp∣on which she made a perfect answere, and as amorousan one as she had euer written, and they were excellent as any in that kind could be: but this came not to my hands till tenne Months after, and then by the meerest accident in the world. When I read it, I saw her loue, and the crosse fort••ne still

that attended it, I was sorry I had abused such noblenes, and resolued if shee would receiue me to offer my selfe againe. In this resolution I went where she was with a friend, and kinswoman of hers, I met her abroad walking, and striuing to make my selfe acceptable, looked with my old lookes vpon her, she with the same I had bin blessed with, receiued me; then I told her I had receiued a Letter from her, but it boare a long date, shee said shee was sorry I had not had the meanes by that, sooner to haue knowne her mind, I smild as glad of her loue, she euen reioyced at it, but yet such habit I had got of strangnes as I could hardly get my selfe out of it. But to assist mee in this busines, a Feauer tooke me, what kindnes did she then expresse? leauing all businesses, her owne house, and all, suffering where she was (though most welcome) many inconueniences, and all for me, tending me her selfe, and being so louing a Nurse to me, as I recouered within short time; since wee haue beene good friends, and shee so perfectly good, as shee let all pass'd faults on my side dye, and vnremembred passe; taking the new returne in the place of it, and satisfaction in that for the other, without questioning of it.

Thus it continued, and doth, but I haue beene lately with her, and lef•• her not so well as I desire she should be, but such accidents haue befallen vs both, as I am forced not to shew how much I loue her, nor she how willing to embrace it; counterfeit awhile we must, though I cannot in my counte∣nance but shew what my heart feeles. Discouer said the Prince likewise that, and you will be better eased. I will sooner dye said he, leauing my selfe a pure offering to her trust, then betray her, she hath commanded and I will obay, and in that merrit some fauour iustly from her, shortly I hope to heare what most I couet from her, and if I be happy, most braue Prince you shal know it, for I will attend you at your owne Court, and if the contrary hap∣pen, I hope yet you will permit ••y sadnes a receite, the one shall bee an ho∣nour, the other a charity.

The Prince would not vrge any more, hauing so ••oble, and free a pro∣mise from him vnasked, but told him hee trusted he should finde those sad lookes turned into as much ioy, which hartily he wished, and the time came when he should be freed from sorrow, and himselfe made happy with the story'es end, which he much, and infinitly desired the knowledge of. The two Ladyes came into the Garden also, to recreate themselues a little be∣before dinner, the delicate Princesse hauing libertie, granted to the Lady her demand, in her story of her pass'd Aduentures, the Lady being to re∣quite her, told her thus. I a•• said she that vnhappy Lisia, who was by birth, and greatnesse of estate, sought before I had knowledge, and giuen before discretion was appearing in me, to a great Lord; I thought it (as most wo∣men doe) a gay matter to be great, a Duches me thought was a rare thing, and a braue busines: but all that while I marked not the Duke, who was, and is, as dull a piece of flesh, as this, or any Country neede know; besides he hath had such vnsufferable passions, and passages with me, as truely if I had not giuen my selfe to hunting, and such delights abroad, to take away the trouble I had at home, I must haue suffered like a Martyre vnder his churlish∣nes, but I relolued to alter him likewise if I could, and so I wrought my selfe to worke with him, as I got the hand with much a doe ouer his Syco∣fants,

all of them I turnd away, hauing liberty to vse my will, for I had gained him by perswasions, oathes, and iustifications sufficient for his capacity•• to right my selfe against those had iniured me, and so to continue a kind wife, as he would be an husband to me: these conditions gaue me such liberty, as twenty foure seruants in one day I put away, and placed such of mine owne, or friends as I best liked, and knew, would and must be iust to me, their friends being ingaged for them. Then I reclaimed him from ill company, I meane inferiour to him, which he naturally had best loued; and as if a new molded him, so as in troth he deserued (and doth) respect from me, and that hee shall haue; the Court I confesse I loued well, I brought him (though not to like it himselfe) to let me be there when I would, and priuately he would come vn∣to me; the Princesse I serued, a Lady faire and louing, but something variable and changing, as her fauour was to me; for I being of her chamber, in great fauour and grace, fell into the most bitter dislike, and disgrace, that euer any did.

Causes she alleaged, but an easie thing it is to frame such; yet the worst thing she did to me, and which I tooke indeed to the heart, was, shee mistrus∣ted I loued a brother of hers, who she neither much cared for, nor esteemed my honour; shee made a young braue Lady likewise acquainted with all, whom she did command to attend on her, and in the last part of the euening, or rather in the night they came into the Garden, where if I had been gone to his chamber, as shee imagined•• I must needs to my owne lodging passe through in my returne. All the doores they locked double, and bolted the others that had not such locks on them, walking vp and downe to catch me, who surely they imagined a very kind woman, to goe so farre to a seruant, whose part it had rather been to come to me; but they watched, and the truth is, I was in another garden on the other side, but not with him, yet being that way, suspition said, I was guilty, so vpon likelihoods I was condemnd. To the doore I came, and thinking to find the place as I left it, I boldly put my key to vnlock it, but it would not doe, mine was but single, my enemies double. I at first found it not, but seeing I could not open it, I tried againe, and then plain∣ly discernd, some had been there after me, yet I did not dreame of the Prin∣cesse. Presently (my tampering hauing giuen them the allarum) I might heare them whisper, the Lady spake a little louder, as of purpose that I should speak to her. I did iust as she desired, and fell into the trap as they wished, for I cried, Who is there? Tis I, said she. I pray open the doore, said I. I will do you more seruice then that, said she: where with she opened it, the Princesse of this plot and place standing close by her. I started when I saw her. How doth my Bro∣ther, said she? I told her, her Highnes was deceiued in me. I am not, answered she, but I haue been; for I tooke you to haue been good and vertuous, the contrary this action shewes you to be. I protest (cryed I) I am innocent of ill, and free from this wrong you accuse me of. The way, time, & your attire condemnes you (said she), why should you vndrest in night habits, at this late houre, and alone walk abroad, & iust this way towards his lodgings, none els lying in those parts, were it not to him? the world besides had such a conceit, and you knowing it, your part had bin to auoid al cause, or shadow of cause to mistrust you, rather then to runne into the open mouth of danger, and plaine discouerie. I saw her so violent, I besought her yet in mercy and pity

of womens honour, which could be no fame to her to ruine, whatsoeuer she conceited of me, yet to spare me to the world.

Shee smild scornefully, and said, she was not of the trade of my counsell-keepers, who knew of ••y going to him in mans apparrell before that time, and so flung away. I was in truth troubled exstreamely with it, and spake to the Lady to bee my friend in it. Shee protested freely, and brauely shee would doe me any seruice in that, or any other thing, and that it was first vnknowne to her what the pretence was, ••onely dutie taught her to o∣bay, after vtterly against her will to proceede in it. But what mends had I? the Princesse told it to euery one, and which madded mee most to this braue Gentleman you saw with me, who at that time, and by her meanes wholly, had not so good an opinion of me, as now he hath, nor had I so much respect to him, yet I loued him euer, shee I thinke did so too, and in no better a kind, then shee thought I did her brother. But I am charitable, and I thinke no ill was done, for I am sure he is noble and good. Vpon this I left the Court, and with me, or presently after me fearing tricks (for who how vertuous soeuer can preuent so odde, and deuillish a plot as this was) all, or the greatest part of the Ladies went from thence, euen she, who then was so deare vnto her in lit∣tle more grace, then my selfe, leauing her attended on with her chamber, and those enough to be vsed ill. She then grew melancholly, and at last sought company, some she got together, but of what sort? those that were of the age before, who hauing young minds rumbled vp their old carcases, and rubd ouer their wrinckling faces like old wainscot new varnished: and little swee∣ter was some of their beauties. But these serued to fill vp places, and adorne a chamber of state, like ill Pictures, yet brauely guilt and set forth make as good a shew, though but glassed, as the cunningst. piece of worke, if not to iudging eies: an noise they also made of mirth, banqueting and inuiting com∣pany, but all would not serue, the glaringst signe, or greatest bush, drawes not in the best company: no more did they make the Court much the fairer. Dance they did, and all ridiculous things that ancient, but young made wo∣men could inuent to do. I came again, hauing liberty to behold thē, but neuer any more to serue in ordinary. Lord how I admird the alteration, and the place, being changd from what it was, as much as from a Court to a Play∣house: She vsd me indifferently wel, and I took it so, enuying none but the La∣dy whom I was a little in aw of, but not for that I did grudge at her, but repi∣ned to see her blest, as I imagind, since I haue gaind what I fear'd she had, or if she had, I haue gaind it from her; yet alwaies braue Princesse be confident I am chast, and vntoucht of ill action, how euer they haue laid my reputation low, but I forgiue them now, nor iudge amisse of my liberall discourse, your freedome hauing inuited me to it My Lord (good man) was glad of my dis∣grace, because it brought me home as he thought, yet I so tampred with him, as he thought at last it was not in earnest, but a plot betweene vs; so to the Court I went when I pleased, or told him I would go, though sometime ano∣ther way I went, yet lately I haue liued most at home, and stil resolue to doe, though with little content in him; and because you shall see I haue not too much cause to be fond of him, when you come into the house, seeme earnest to see him (for that he loues) and then shal your highnes on my word behold a man fit only to make a good husband of, & so far to be belou'd, as not con∣temnd.

They went in, the Princesse hauing her lesson, desiring earnestly to see the Master of the Horse before her going. He came, but such a creature twas, his pace so vncertaine going towards her, but looking backe, as if asking his men if he did well, or no; a wide smile he had, which if a little noise had been ad∣ded to it, might haue been a plaine laugh. When he was close by her, he took her hand, and put it to his mouth, but his teeth instead of lippes met it; shee gaue him many thankes for her entertainement, he tooke her thanks it seemd well, but replyd onely with his former girning•• at last with a great businesse and champing•• as if on the Bit, he brought out as many words, as he askt her, how she liked Hunting. She answerd, very well, and best of any sport; hee was so ioyed with that, as he laughed right out, and with gladnesse driueld, that none could blame the Lady, if she liked not much to kisse that Ganimead. As thus they were, some beholding him, the Princesse admiring his foolish ignorance, and ill-fauordnesse, some others marking the power she had ouer her selfe, to hold from so little scorne, as to smile at him, a great noise was heard below in the Hall, and an Esquire of the old Frigian King came in, cry∣ing out for helpe, his Lord was taken prisoner, and carried towards the Sea. Leonius cald to arme, Veralinda for her horses, the delicat disquieted would a••¦tend them, till they saw freedom on al parts flourishing again; the Lady of the house tooke her leaue of them there, and so they past, Leonius poasting after the King, the Princesse accompanied with her Knights, and the Noble Dis∣cōtent held on towards the sea to gaine her ships: but being to passe a thickest wood, it was their fortunes first to light vpon the Aduenture, for in the thick of that place they heard voyces, and Veralinda led by perfect knowledge, or naturall affection, knew her fathers tongue, when vpon the telling her fine sad companion, he with some fiue or six of her Knights rushed in, they found the King bound, a great ring of armed men about him, and some sixe or seuen women (for Gentlewomen I cannot call those, vsed such cruelty) with great rods whipping him, hauing stripped his vpper part; he complaining, and pi∣tifully crying, the strips being sore, and painefull to his royall body. This timely rescue flew in among them, who were much amased at the surprise, yet being many, & bolder on their number, then any other cause they had to hope of their victory, encountred our daintie distressed so rudely, as he was put to his best in armes; but then so brauely did he behaue himselfe, as he had with his own hands disarmd and ouercome three, but his fiue assistants were ouerth••owne, he then himselfe fought against the rest, not without great ha∣zard, but such were the blowes, and fury among them, as they cald helpe, as∣sisted with the Kings cryes, who all this while the fight lasted, was tormented excessiuely with those Furies, as meaning to take their full reuenge, or as much as they could. Leonius was brought in to the place, but what fury came he possest with all? those women altogether could not imitate, much lesse equall (yet women inraged they say are Deuils. Happy this arriuall was to the valiant as exquisite Solitary, both being ioynd, the rest fainted, and so the victory came on their side. Then Leonius and his to be admired companion went to the King, taking away his Baiters and Chaines, clothing him againe, and dressing the stripes he had receiued, which had wept blood for vnkind∣nesse, both pulling off their Helmets to take aire the sad Knight shewing so delicate a hand, as if his blowes had not been witnesses of his strength, one

would haue fear'd, so Ladi-like, a beautifull, and dainty shapt hand could not haue sufferd such stresse; but the wonder was taken away then, when conclusi∣on was made, that the noblest hart commanded the fairest, and fiercest hand; he had such a hart, and so valiant and happy a hand to execute his commands with al. Veralinda came in also, and with teares manifested the sorrow she had for her fathers mishap, couering his stripes with soueraign ointments she ne∣uer went without: then they examind the cause of this outrage. One of them (the chiefe it seemd among them) telling her story thus. I am (said she) of this Country, and haue a Castle hard by, whither this vngratefull King should haue gone, had not your accursed succor, and my too rash beginning of his iustly merited punishment hindred me; he knowes my name and quarrell; yet some part I wil tel you to auoid thought of vnreasonablenes in me. I lou'd this king (not I do protest for his being a king, but mearely out of affection) my loue growing to him, at my being in his Court at a great triumph there, whi∣ther the Princes of this country went, & I waited on. He cast his eies vnluckly on me also, and gaue me such inuitations to his loue, as I could not but accept and yeeld; opportunity yet serued not, I being to wait so neare my Lady, and she who liked the king as well, but not so truly as I did, watching me, fea••ing that, she desird to haue her self. Thus vnfortunatly I was again to part, and so without any more then amorous looks, & such manifestings as outward shew could giue, we were deuided; when I came back, how did I curse my fortune? for my loue was run beyond the tye of chastity, and I was a meere louer; I ac∣cusd my self, for thus thought I, I might haue enioyd him, by this meanes I could (if I had not bin a natural foole) haue compast my desires, none could haue preuented this plot, had I not bin a ranke coward; the night was left me, why did I loose so many, and gain nothing but restles times, tossing and tum∣bling in my own fansies? and so many did I then get together, as made a ma•• of vanity, calling infinites of conceits together. In al these vnquiets, a match was offerd me, I was mad, and knew nothing but mine owne passions; in that distemper I gaue consent, and was maried, but stil my affection was tied, and wedded to this king, this king of vngratefulnes and cruelty. A wife I liued, and yet a maid, my husband somtimes chafing, somtimes telling me, he thought I kept that Iuell for another: many suspitions this bred in him, and furnished as many crosses for me, at last at the end of three yeeres, this vnconstant, and vnworthy king came hither, he was feasted and welcomd by the Prince and Princesse, who saw not me with strait looks; doubting me still; but I refrained not the Court for al that, my hart telling mee a dram of ioy in his sight was more cordiall, then vialls ful of her disgraces could be hurtful to me. He liked my sight as well, and then being resolud to loose no opportunitie, but rather make and find meanes, wee met, and I did freely let him haue knowledge of my constancy. He was (it seemd) rauisht with ioy, and beyond al others, loue fond of me, neuer being at rest, but when with me. A Gentleman there was in his company who had lik'd me wel, and as far as he durst had sought mee, for he was bashfull, and I must confesse I was proud, besides louing another. To this man the king (not being able to hide or conceale his happines) tels al. When he had it (guessing as I belieue it was, and am confident he knew it to be me) he came to me, and after discourse of him, and how good, and firme a Louer he was, besides his earnest, and passionate pursuing, he brake out into

how happy and fortunate a man he was in his choice, telling me my whole story, and all that had passed; with all (said he) when he told it me, O (cryd I) that I might but know such a Loue to mee, though presently I had died; and surely so I should, for I were not able to enioy such a ful blessing. Did he tell you this story (said I) sure there is no such thing? Yes certainely, answered he; & he is so wrapt in the heauen of it, as he cannot contain himself: but who it is, I know not; for he only termd her a wench he lou'd, & who so dearely lo∣ued him, as for his sake she had liu'd a Maiden-wife, & would haue euer, had she not enioyd him. I was angry at it, yet then so much I lou'd him, as though resolued to let him know, how ill I tooke his discouering my secrets to any, though in a third person; yet when I saw him-I forgaue it, and pitied him for louing me so much, I not being able, as I imagind, and vndervalued my poore self, to deserue such an affectiō, nor truly shuld I haue altred my mind for any thing, had he not cruelly, vildly, & scornfully vsd me; that changd me indeed, and hath turnd my hart so much against him, as euer since I haue fully assured of his disdaine, vowed reuenge, and plotted for it, though I had gone into his country to execute it, which I was preuented of by notice of his comming hi∣ther, where I way-laid him at his comming, but I grew tender again, and let him passe; yet when he was past, I repented, and as loue increaseth loue, so the hate I had, conceiud, & grew increasing in me with euery touch of memory of those passages, & now without al purpose of kindnes I took him, & with all cruelty meant to haue continued tormenting him, priuatly keeping as I pur∣posed his Maiesty for my recreation to see him torturd, who so vncharitably cast me off, defamd, & forsook me; the last, being to vs indeed the sharpst blow but telling, with that she flew at him again to scratch him, other hurt she could not do him, To tel, cryd she, & forsake me to? They held her, & with much a∣do after by the kings permission, but earnestly coniuring Veralinda to pardon her, she had her liberty, and so returnd to her Castle. The King like al men, at sometimes, or other for such iniuries whipt, though inwardly with as bitter strips held on his iourney for Frigia, where he most safely arriued, and with all content and happinesse hee with his daughter, and sonne in law passed their dayes together. The valliant, and discreete Gentleman returned to the Lady againe, with whom he spent most of his pretious time attending what he desired, which was accomplished to his minde, and left to him to make his owne vse of, so as he might be pleased if he pleas'd. Amphilanthus being in the morning vp, & ready to goe to his long'd for busines, to add by that, new, & more honor, as kingdoms to his crown, the Qu. Pamphilia with her counsell, & Noble men came vnto him, whom she found attended on by his Princes, who were all, or most known to her, the rest made her seruants by his respect vnto her; there she saw prouisiō for the fight, while she had as cruel a combat within her, & more terrible, because her feare proceeding frō her loue made more dangers then blowes could be stroken between them. She saw not one peece of his armour that was not cut through in tendernes of her heart, and that bleeding for it. The Prince of Transiluania was looking on his sheild, which she casting her eyes vpon. O said she that that were as true, & firme in mettle, as my hart is in truth, then would it nere be pierced. Polarchos was curiously ouerlooking the armour, to see it secure; euery piece shee blessed with her soules wishes, and euery pinn had a prayer for the strength of it so much goodnesse wishing it well, danger must n••eds be farre off.

The Emperour marking her, had inwardly new power, and might giuen him by her constancy, and strong affection, forth they went, excellent, and rich Barges being ready to conuey them ouer the Lake, being on the other side: they parted, the Queene backe againe to her Castle, where she might (if deerenes in loue would permit her) see the combate, which was not doubted, but assured she could not suffer her eyes though louing them best when they saw him, at this time giuen them liberty to doe; but certainely her soules eyes in prayer beheld him more profitable surely at this time, for he had no child to play withall.

The Emperour tooke his horse, the State and Counsell of Pamphilia way∣ting on him, as he mounted on horse-backe, whether by chance, or of pur∣pose the horse trampled, and turned vp, and downe so, as his face towards the Lake, and Castle, he sent kind lookes after her, which that while (her eyes wayting on him) with comfort brought vnto her, and made hers melt, because they parted so; he rode into the field vnarm'd, his twelue Princes carrying his armes. Polarchos being his Chamberlaine, came next his Person, and the Prince of Transiluania carryed his Crowne, the Duke of Branswike, Bauaria, Lorraine, Sauoy, Sax, Millan, the Prince of Venice, and the rest car∣ried the Armour, Launce, and led the spare horse.

Into the head of the Army he rode, which stood in battaile, hee saluted them, they exprest ther ioy to see him in all Souldier-like fashion, before them he stood ready to arme, when they discern'd from the other side the King, with as much magnificence as was possible for him to shew; when they were thus in the head of each Army, he sent to intreate some speech of the Emperour, he courteous, and yet bold as any, granted it, and so they came towards each other, taking one a peece with them, the Emperour, Po∣larchos; the King, the Master of his Horse. They beheld each other like Lyons, stirring no way, but their eies followed as part of their Armes, and then the most curious part. The King of Celicia first put vp his hand to his hat, but that motion was enough to make the noble Amphilanthus ready as soone as hee, to giue, and take salutation. The King said it was not vnknown vnto him, he was sure why he came, and in that sort, but the desire, and reason of this meeting was, that he might see his Person before the fight, who was held the brauest Prince liuing, and his Riuall, but with greater happines because beloued by her. If this be true replide the Emperour, your cause is the more vniust, since you would force so excellent a Queene to take you contrary to her owne affection as you confesse, and mine must needs be more irreconciliable, since heere you pronounce a quarrell neuer to be taken vp, seeking to take my Mistris from me, therefore if this be your end of meeting, let vs part to meete on surer tearmes.

The King gaue consent, hauing now said, he seene the man so much admi∣red, I am satisfied till I haue conquered him. With that they turn'd, and arm'd them selues, the Drums, and Trumpets making such harmony, as were enough to lift the hearts of Cowards vp to spirit, this little needing to the Emperour, whose heart and body was all worth, and valour: the King was likewise soone arm'd, and the Armies by order commanded to vnarme, being left only as Court beholders, no shew of warr, except in the fashion of their cloathes, and bands. The King of Celicia was in Oring couler, the Em∣perour

in crimson, Spite on the one side, Reuenge on the other. The en∣counter was faire, and terrible, both their horses at the breaking shrinking vnder them, but the Celician after falter'd, and reel'd, so as hee leap'd from him. Amphilanthus lighted, and so they met on foote, when no Art, or vallour procured by iust disdaine, and rage was wanting. The King had with a blow clouen the Emperour's sheild, so as vnvsefull he threw it from him, in requitall, making such a breach in his armour on the right side, as there sparng out so much blood, as might wash away the others losse. Both feare∣lesly, and furiously fighting, for themselues, not fearing, only tending the cause that brought them thither.

At last Amphilanthus found an aduantage by the Kings lifting vp of his right arme, to giue him a deadly blow, which though he failed of, the Em∣perour missed not the oportunitie, but ran his Sword into him crosse-wayes through his body; the King stood still with the blow, the Emperour beheld him, sorry he had kill'd him, as his sword goar'd he perceiued hee had, then suddenly, and reelingly he ran with his last fury vpon him. Amphilanthus could haue auoyded him, but he only strake downe the thrust, and caught him in his armes, casting him selfe downe with him, in the falling, yeeld said Asdrusius; thou art deceiued poore man said Amphilanthus, with that Asdrusius lifted his arme vp, as to haue one blow more, but death then ceased on him, so as embraced with an enemies curtesie he dyed. Amphilanthus ry∣sing, and putting the body from him, the Princes of both sides came in, and the victory easily iudged, the body was deliuered to the Celicians, with li∣berty to depart, Melisander being deliuered, the Emperour with all honor conducted towards the Queene, who with more then ioy, or gladnes, met him where she parted from him with delicate musique, and tryumphant glo∣ry, bringing him into the Castle, and so to the Galleryes, where he was vn∣arm'd, and his wounds most gently, tenderly, and affectionately looked on by her selfe; they were some in number, non•• either dangerous, or troblesome to his liberty of walking abroad.

When they were dressed, the Councell standing all before them, and his Princes with her Nobility, they two sate downe vnder a cloath of estate, loue expressing it selfe, not only liuely but perfectly in their eyes: he tooke her hand, kiss'd it, beheld her earnestly, as amorously ready to make ex∣pression of what was expected and hoped for, she as yeelding sate ready to grant, while he still holding her hand in his, and as passionately gazing in her affectionately requi••ing eyes, and such were his excellent expressions, and her louing entertayning those passions, as command needed not to his fol∣lowers, who by outward sight, (knowledge by long acquaintance growing in the degree with experience) knew their masters mind, and so left him to expresse what his eyes promised, leauing the place as free as their soules de∣sired to be, which would be granted only by rest, and what rest on earth like the quiet enioying them selues, which but with them selues they could doe, her seruants by her respect to the Emperour learnt obedience, and so to their owne happyest wishes left them.

They all gone, Amphilanthus Master of the greatest part of the Westerne World, and once as he assured him selfe, Monarch of her heart before shee knew Asia, or much more, or scarce so much as her selfe, much lesse her

power ouer him, would like a confident man, and commanding louer, neuer shewing as if an account were to be had from him for former faults, vse the time, and take the opportunity offer'd him so as his eyes fixt as they were, and shee obseruing his, he most louingly, or rather passionately caught, (like a man drowning, catching at the next thing to him to saue himselfe) the Queene in his armes, and as no offender, (except in boldnesse) embraced her. She would haue violently, refused any other, nay his neglect in an o∣ther person had forc'd the curstest punishment, but heere shee onely blushd, and receiu'd his loue, as at first without expostulation: discourse they also familarly did, & the wonted phrases of kindnesse in sweet familiarnesse were as free, as if neuer laid aside.

Thus that day passed, night being come, and all retyrd to rest, the Queene most happy and blest being againe enriched with his loue, or the show it had before, although the true fire was clearer, and warmer; this now suffised, and was insteed of the truth filld vp to the like heate by the vnexpectednes of it. Being in her bedd, what Pamphilia said shee? Is it possible that thou hast liued to see Amphilanthus kind againe? Can he smile on these wrincles, and be louing in my decay? When hee told mee I was alterd for the worse, and sleightly regarded me, I fear'd, but when he quite forsooke mee, wretch what did I, yet is he returning? Truely I must confesse this to be as strange as his other change, which I could not but like a blinde man be ledd to be∣leeue, it was sung in my eares, and blazed in mine eyes, ere I could take off the Scarfe of credulity, and vnblinde my hopes to see plainely my despaire, and iust cause thereof, when I haue sate sighing, nay weeping for his disdaine, wishing he might but see my teares, which from strangers haue gain'd com∣passion: He hath come in, then how haue I cheerd vp my heart, or rather my loue to him done it for me? Wiped my eyes, and from him hid my sor∣rowes, to whom for my redresse they should haue beene discouered; poli∣cie it was not that bred this in me, but pure loue, and vnfortunate subiection, yet I loue my selfe for it, and will still striue to continue it, and more now, since I see that pleades for me, and pitty, or fauour shines againe to me. It is impossible to be Lone, but reward that now hee goes about to giue mee, that yet shall be welcome, and what else soeuer comes from him, except frownes, nay they two if hee allot them me, so hartily I am his. The next morning they went to hunt, and after noone in the euening, walked foorth along a Riuers side till they came to a little rysing; at the bottom the water continued the wanton course it had begun, vpon the top of this rising there was a Rocke, and on the top of that a young shepheard playing vpon a Re∣becke••, the Ayre playing with his curled locks, and hee singing this Songe.

LOue farewell I now discouer Thee a Tyrant o're a louer, All thy promis'd sweets proue crosses, Thy rewards are only losses.

A pritty thing I did deeme thee, Innocent, and mild esteeme thee,

But I find thee as curst matter As a swelling high wrought water.

Cupids name a pleasant folly Hath beguiled hearts most holly, Euen to sacrifize in homage, Life and soule vnto their domage.

Mine an offering once I profferd, Happily refusd when offerd, Ile keepe now but to reuile thee, From the craft which did beguile me.

The wiser man, said Amphilanthus. The liker to your mind, said Pamphilia, if hee loue varities: hee looked vpon her, but seeing shee smild, when shee spake it, hee did so likewise, and so she went to the shepheard, who was com∣ming downe from the Rock, and seeing them, was amased, yet with a good ciuill country manner saluted them, which they gratiously requited. The Queene then demanded, of what place he was; he replied, he was seruant to the Queenes Shepheard. Doe you know the Queene (said she). No indeed, replide hee. What heare you of her, said Amphilanthus? Much ioy for her safetie, and that she is a braue and a good woman, said he. Nothing else, said she? Yes, answered he, I haue heard more, but we must not speake all least we heare of it againe to our cost. I dare assure thee (said she) the Queene shall ne∣uer heare of any thing thou sayest to vs any more, then now she doth, nor bee any more offended with thee. But if I come in question, where's your assu∣rance, I may be assuredly hanged, and you neuer the wiser. Trust me (said she) I haue such power with her Maiesty, as thou shalt be secure. Why then (said hee) Ile tell you; but first let me see your face. Wherefore, said the Queene? Ile tell you if you be a maid, said he. With that she puld off a Mask she wore: the Shepheard looked wishly on her, and cryd out. O heauens what a sweete face is there, and what pitie it is you should bee so long a Maid?

The Louers both blushed, and smild, then the Shepherd proceeded. I can guesse by the face indifferently well at the disposition, and I lea••nt this expe∣rience by marking my sheepe, and seldome now doe I faile in chusing the sweetest natured and mildest to breed on, I can see by the countenance whe∣ther they will be tractable, or not, and so I cull the best from the other. But this is nothing of the Queene, said she. Why, she is (said he) a Lady loued, and well thought on by all that euer I heard speake of her, curteous, affable, no pride dwells in her, to the meanest she will speake; yet the greatest feare her, which is her iudgement and goodnesse that breedes that respect to her; shee is vpright and iust, in her gouernment mild, and louing to her subiects, shee loues all good exercises as well abroad, as at home; shee hath indeed they say, a braue and manlike spirit, and wonderous wise shee is; yet for all these good parts, shee could not keepe out of Cupids clawes, but was mightily in loue, and is still as it is mutterd about with a gallant man, a braue fighting

man, for whose sake shee refused all others, and lately the King of Celicia her next neighbour; but for all her wisdome, there I belieue she was ill adui∣sed to refuse him, for he came with such an Army against her, to haue her by force, as had like to haue marrd all; I am sure they frighted vs (no sword men) and our sheep likewise, yet at last hither came that braue man her loue, though some say he had before forsaken her, wherupon she grew melanchol∣ly, & came seldome abroad, she might by that haue seene how foolish a thing loue was, and haue left it, and looked to her owne busines, but now they say, shee is liuely againe, and iolly, and well shee may, for he did gallantly to release her, yet hee dwells so farre off, and hauing as it is said, a prety hu∣mour of changing, wee doe not wish him to her, least wee should loose her.

What doe you call him, said the Emperor? Amphilanthus, answered the Shepheard, Emperour of the West, a mighty man assuredly he is, and hath but that fault as euer I heard, and yet for mine owne part I would the Queen were of our mind (whereat they both laughed); for I protest (said he) I thinke varietie the sweetest pleasure vnder Heauen, and constancy the foo∣lishest vnprofitable whining vertue.

Thou art an honest fellow, said Amphilanthus, I warrant thee. Pray God you proue so (said he) else I may bee in a wise case. Feare nothing, said the Queene, I will protect thee from any harme, but now you haue spoken thus freely of the Queene, tell vs as particularly of your loues, for it appeares you haue been a louer.

In a kinde (said hee) and you shall heare what I haue done since my infancy, for since tenne, I haue looked after Wenches, and loued them since foureteene, and now am I sixe and twenty. The first vnruly flames that bred in mee, were at fourteene, towards a pretty Maid of my mothers, much about that age, who, what with my importunitie, prettie presents of fruites and flowers, quaint wordes, the loue shee bore her Mistris, whom shee might feare would bee angry, if shee crost mee to make mee sicke, or it may bee wanton, and young, found as much apt∣nesse in her felfe as in mee, or what other cause or power it was, I know not, shee would not refuse long, nor was I long in accepting, but kind∣ly and amorously wee liued a whole yeare, and I pray was not that a long time to bee in loue with one woman? I thinke by that I merrited neuer to bee by other denied.

Then came a fine Brownetta, an neighbours daughter of ours crost my sight, and so my former loue, shee daily came to milke in the next grounds to vs: I then thought on nothing but how to winne her; the other followed mee, and perpetually watched mee, that I durst not goe neare her: but loue is neuer without inuention, I would steale out in the night, and make bracks and holes in the Hedges that parted our grounds, and then when my Sheepe being drouen, as of purpose I would driue them that way, would for change (louing it as well as their Ma∣ster) get into her Fathers fields, I must goe fetch them forth againe, and so I saw her, and spake to her, telling her shee should aduise her fa∣ther to keep his fences better, this was my introduction, and at last wan her by

discourse and conuersation as wrangling at first wrangled our selues one. But when I had enioyed her, I thought the other like stale bread: shee told me of it, I truly confest I was weary of her; she said we were well met to part on equall tearmes, and so she quickly after chose another, and another, for al∣ready I haue seene he•• haue three besides my selfe, and I commend her for it.

Some moneths, which were the Spring and Summer, and as long as faire weather lasted, I loued this second; but when cold came on, my bloud grew chill, and so my hart grew faint, onely to be recouered with the next Spring, which it was, and sprang vnto another loue, who was as faire as Diana her selfe at the full, but for my contentment not so cold nor chaste. She was a Neatresse, and in truth an neate one; her I gaind by curtesie, fetching, and driuing her cattle to her, and for her, the sweete and secret Woods could onely accuse vs, none else mistrusted, and so sweetly and kindly did we passe our times; but shee after a while being but as the former were, and no varie∣tie in her, I began to thinke how I might purchase some creature more like my disposition which I gained; for walking in the Woods, I found a dainty Forrest Nimph hunting, I forsooke her, le••t home, father, and all betaking me to the Woods: sh••e was long before she could be wonne to like, longer to loue; but at last for my ioy, shee liked, loued, and yeelded, then was I a blessed man, for in this delicate Creature I was fully happie, shee ••o well incountred my humour with her fashion, and diuers, and seuerall expressions of loue she gaue, which as still being new, she was an new woman to mee, and so I conti∣nued with the varietie on her side, and I so contented with all, as I loued her fiue yeare without change, yet not wholly so constant, but I thinke I slipt a∣side in that time. Sometimes it may be she thought so, and would be sad; but when I came, and saw her so, how did I thinke that did become her, and idle∣nesse, or mirth misbeseeme others; then I grew sad to imitate her, learnt her fashions, walked crosse armd, sighed, cast vp mine eyes, spake little, looked much on her, else on nothing to say, I looked on any thing but as vnmar∣ked.

This passion pleased me as different from the other, then so well I pleased her in this kind, as she the next time would be merry. I liked that beyond the other, for then me thought I saw life, spirit, and mettle in her; I then embra∣ced that with ioy and delight, finding that ••he did all these to make me hers, by still contenting me; I was contented to be hers, as much as it was possible for mee to bee anyes, and this brought me into such reputation, as I had the good looks, nay, thoughts of many faire maides (without pride I speake it, though I confesse I loue to tell it), among the rest there was another Nimph, who hearing of mee, or seeing how my Mistris made of mee, thought it a fine thing to loue, but a finer to bee loued, yet did ••hee not consider how to chuse without offence to others, and gaine to her selfe, for her ill for∣tune was to chuse mee, who though so naturally kind to women, as I would hardly let one of that sweete sexe sigh, much lesse weepe for mee, but that I would requite her; yet ••hee had not that winning power to make mee dif∣fer, nor indeede did shee take mee right, for shee mistooke both in the time and place, happening to bee at the Nimphs house, whither I of••en resorted with other Forresters, shee welcomming mee as a friend, that had done

her seruice in a hunting which shee had, the house was little, and therefore the roomes were neare together, my Mistris lodged this other, her riual com∣panion, in a roome within her selfe, mistrusting nothing, but bolting the doore betweene them, sure for her comming to her, secretly went to bed, and when all was quiet according to our agreement, she came to mee; as we were together embracing, and louingly discoursing, wee heard a noise some∣t••ing nearer vs, as in the next roome; loue at first made vs heedl••sse, till com∣ming neare, and continuing with increase of lumbring, ••nd as if wood falling or slipping from those rowes, or the order it was laid vp, as in rankes, in wee startled, and I feared, because of my Mistris; but shee knowing the place, which was not aboue fiue foote broad, and alwaies filled with cleft wood for the chambers, stept out and shut a doore, which was to goe in, or to come out of that place.

When shee had made it safe for opening on the other side, shee softly re∣turned to mee, and then with much delight wee stayed a while together, till day being ready to breake, shee parted from mee to bee in her owne bed, when her maides came to seeke her, which soone after they did, and shee be∣ing ready, called mee, and sent for Orileda, for so the other was called, but she hauing (as shee told me afterwards, to make me know her loue, the violence whereof had made a more vnchast thought in her, then euer before she had) broken her shin with climing ouer the wood, cursing it yet more for the hin∣drance, then the harme, barring her from letting me see what power I had to make her, other then euer her modestie till then would permit. Shee was vnable to follow Dianaes sports, as well in person, as her chaste courses in thought.

I seemed to pitie my owne ill fortune in missing of her, and to lament her hurt, which more hurt mee, for after shee perplexed mee with haun∣ting of mee, Lord what a life led I? shee troubled mee, my Mistris grew a little suspitious of me, that grieued mee, both stroue for mee; but such difference there was betweene them, as I had been blind and accursed, if I had left one fortother. But then came the Queene into those Woods to delight her self, being at her first comming into this Country, in her Traine she had many braue and fine women, among the rest, one prety little Lasse, who for her pretinesse, mee thought, commanded largely ouer hearts, I am s••re shee made mine faint and faile, when it had been strong; then did I thinke a Forrest life the toylesomst, and wearisomest in the world: I plot∣ted how to bee released of it, and why? onely to bee where I might see her I most loued.

Long I studied, at last I fell vpon a resolution, which was, to put my selfe into the Court, to serue some Officer or Courtier, the Queene affecting hunting, I was soone accepted, and taken by the chiefe Huntsman to be one of her Maiesties seruants, being excellent in blowing a Horne, and in the chase, and so louing infinitely, and hoping as much, for I neuer loued with∣out that especiall comfort about me, to spoile me, and to crosse my old com∣panion Hope, the Queene went to try Enchantments, I neuer hauing seene her but one horse-back, and still masked: I know not how her Maiestie car∣ried her selfe, or what shee did, but as reports are by all, to her most meri∣ting honour that might bee, though likewise to her losse, for shee returned

after some yeares, the most discontented woman in the world, and hath con∣tinued so, till now within few dayes, when (God bee thanked) she hath recouered her spirits, which long may they be (I beseech Heauen co)ntinued to her, & al hapines attend her, yet I was angry with her going for she caried 〈◊〉〈◊〉 loue with her, yet farr•• she could not carry it, it was either so heauy as it 〈◊〉〈◊〉, or so light, as the first contrary wind brought it me again, and then I for∣swore hunting, court, and al, betaking me to be a Shepherd, and here I liue vn∣der the Queens Shepheard quiet, loue for my pleasure, neuer to paine, haue a Lasse now that will haue mee loue, or serue her, whether I will or no, her violence making mee truer, or rather more obseruant then anie o∣thers wor••h could do; and thus I liue (I must ••ay truly) fondly, ignorantly, and condemned by all men; yet it pleaseth mee, because I auoid by this meanes, importunities, and businesses. I am heere serued and obserued, no∣thing to vexe mee, i•• not what I like well enough, which is her ouer∣much fondnesse: her fairenesse troubles mee not, for shee is no Helena, her vertue denies me little, for I command that, and her, her humble and busie loue mix•• with fine discourse likes mee well enough, or I suffer my selfe to thinke so; yet O me the Nimph was a dainty Lasse.

Ah (said Pamphilia), it seemes you haue some reliques of that loue. In truth (said he) I haue, and my conscience moues me that way many times, ••nowing she vndid her selfe for me, and yet firmely loues mee still, and vn∣changeably euer did.

Returne then (said Amphilanthus) and bee now againe more happy then euer enioying so long loued, and louing a Creature, the first passions were but flashes, the••e pure and true fie••s.

I feele them so (said hee), ••nd I will doe so, and yet in so doing iustly, and continue my old affection to varietie too, for now she will be new againe to me.

The Louers smil'd vpon each other, and taking the fine Shepheards offer, which was to drinke of his poore drinke, they each dranke of his bot∣tle, and returned, pleased much with his discourse, but most with his resoluti∣on to returne to his old Loue.

The next Morning shee went to Fish, and so after dinner to Hauke, and euerie day had new delights, till they had past inuention, and then like the Sheepheard returned to what they had had: so one morning to hunt they went, when after one hours chase the hounds running merrily, the stag com∣ming neere them, the Emperour with the rest had his spirits mooued with the pleasure, and not sparing his horse followed with such speed into a great and desart wood, as hee had in the thicknesse lost the Stagge, hounds, all the company, and himselfe; the Que••••e hauing a guide, and coast∣ing came in to the death, for the Hou••es soore brought the Deere out of the wood, but at the fall of him the Emperor was miss'd, the Queene missing in that misse all ioy and content, her heart being so much his, as still partooke of his fortunes, and that faithfully tould her hee would not quickly be heard of againe, shee grew sad, and instead of honoring her Dogges, or Deere with their last rights, tooke her horse againe and went her selfe to seeke him, sending all her traine seuerall waies in the same quest, taking only with her two Ladies that had held out the

chase with her, and ten Knights. She continued the search till night, then came she to a house in the mid'st of the wood, where she resolud to rest her that night, and the next day betimes pursue her search. When she came in∣to the house she found seruāts ready, and willing to entertaine her, but their Mistris was not as then come from hunting; the Queene weary and sad, s••te downe on a bed, or rather neglectiuely threw her selfe vpon one, her Ladi••s in the meane space taulking with the seruants concerning their Mistris, ••ill she returned in a garment of blacke Damaske, which reached to her knees, and another below that, that came to the small of her leg, of Sattin, buskins she had of the finest leather laced and tyed with pretty knots of ribbin, but al blacke, and so had she gone euer since her loue left her. On her head shee wore a hat, but her haire vnder it, tyed and braded so finely, as shee might throw off her hat at pleasure, and remaine finer then before. She seemed to haue beene excellent•• and yet she appeared louely, though her face said shee was not in the youth fullest time of her yeares, yet her Sommer was not quite done; she had strength, and spirit in place of delicasie and sinnes, and whole∣some healthfulnes for dainty beauty, altogether shee was farre from being contemptible, though not merriting to be admired, if not for constancy and patient suffering which shee had brought her selfe vnto, and to so perfect a kind of them, as she no way wanted her former happines

An excellent Creature she was without question in her kind, and as such are oft times abused with excelling change; She vnderstanding the Queene was in her house, was much ioyed withall, but not so rauished with it, as it made her any whit forget her duty, as others haue done, rashly ouercome with ioy, to grow vnmannerly withall, but stayed attending the good for∣tune when she might see, and welcome her Maiestie which should be done when she cal'd, that tim came soone after, for the Q. hauing tumbled awhile, and cast her thoughts into millions of various conceits, she with wearynes fell asleepe, and so continued an howre, which space the sweete Nimph stayd for her.

As soone as the Ladyes had told the Queene of her being without, shee was admitted in to her, who with as much humillity, as the Queene with kindnes saluted her, vsing her best language (as she had as good as any of her sort,) to expresse her gladnesse in seeing, & hauing her Maiestie in her house. Pamphilia hearing her speak, and beholding her manner and fashion, besides the furniture of the roome being of delicate and rich silke, both hangings and bed, which till then she regarded not, did beleeue she was of noble kinde, and so vsed her, taking her gently from the ground, and telling her shee was not to kneele to her guest.

To my Soueraigne Lady (••••id she) I am bound, and your worth claimes this, and more respect from all ••••••angers, then kissed she the Queenes hands, and rose, beholding the Queene with admiration of her beauty and sadnes; her eyes hauing been employed to other vse then sleeping, as by the red cir∣cles did appeare. Delicate discourse passed betweene them a good space, till the Queene found she might be bolder with her, then she yet had, and so be∣gan to aske her some questions, the first, why shee woare Blacke, being a Huntresse? Shee replyd, shee had lost her Deare, and mourned for it. Then must I weare Blacke also (said shee) for I am parted vnfortu∣nately

from my deerest Deere, for which my heart allready is in mourning. The sweete Nimph with a low reverence & a sigh, seemd to lament for her; the Queene then proceeded, as longing to know the end, which the other perceiuing, to giue her all content, yeelded vnto it, and proceeded thus.

Since I see the desire you haue to know all my story, may it please your Maiestie to vnderstand, I am called Mirasilua, a Forrest Nimph by my man∣ner of life, but not profest to Diana, though a seruant to her delights; vn∣marryed I liue, but wedded to a vow I made to one, whose breach of his, like-made-one to me cannot yet vnmarry me; he was called Sildurino, as faire, but as false as any, his life was wholy in the Country, and after that manner though he was nobly discended, but his Grandfather falling into an vnfor∣tunate action ouerthrew their house, his father and his children, euer after liuing priuatly, and but plentifully, yet is there no reason to vse them with the lesse respect, or to contemue them, or thinke basely of them, who suf∣fer for others offences, not their owne; yet such was the greatnes of their spirits, as of fowre sonns the Grandfather left none, but his father did marry who was betrothed before his fall, and she nobly would after continue her loue to her Spouse, liuing happily together, and as contented as if they had all the possessions, and honours they were borne vnto, which was as much as most, or any in this Kingdome.

The other three brothers liued with them, but so vexed, & stomacking their pouertyes, yet hauing vertuous hearts would not consent to thinke of ill courses, they perplexedly liued, and at last dyed, their hearts broken with their owne swellings, and rent with their owne furious passions, their ouer∣throw came in this manner. The King who vnquietly reign'd next before your most worthy Vncle, was a mighty Tyrant, and had purchased the Kingdome by treachery, and blood-shedding of many, lastly of the right King, his children and kinsmen, to the last he could finde that durst say he had one drop of Royall blood in him, and many suffered for this, hauing so much royall vertue as to striue to ouerthrow such a beast. When hee had done this, and none left to withstand him, he yet thought himselfe not secure, vn∣lesse he ruin'd those that knew his villany, least they bloodded in ill would practise on him: all those he likewise made away, nay those deere friends of his that had set the Crowne vpon his head, truely, and worthily requi••ed them for so Deuilish an act: with the same they fedde the poore King his predesessor, who had no falt but that he was too good, too honest, too iust, & two religious, shewed faults in Princes in these dayes. When the king had thus gained his mind, and free'd himselfe from the danger of being betray'd, who had beene trecherous to so many, and none left that he could feare, or say that man knowes my ill, so as now he might surely walke if not for his owne conscience; yet what good got he by this? he had not only rid himselfe of those he might mistrust or dislike, to see if any remorse were in him, but of friends, so as hee stood alone, and like a Tree in the midst of a plaine his branches cut off, euery wind hath power on him; So stood he apt to be shaken with euery storme which was seene, and considered by many, and at last resolu'd vpon that hee should reele or fall. A plot was layd, and most of the remayning Nobility, and especially all the auncient

Lords by desent, though many were young men among them agreed toge∣ther; but the King as he was wicked, so he was very wise, or politique, quick∣ly discernd there was something more then was for his good, wherefore like an old Foxe when he meanes to get a dwelling which he will not take paines to make himselfe, layes baits, and wiles to gaine his neighbours house, and deceiues the poore Badger; so did this Deuill, laying such ••inns for them, as he caught them when they lest thought of it, thrusting into their counsells, and companyes, instruments of his, who were content to sweare and for∣sweare any thing, nay their owne soules to winne his fauour, such a Tyrant is ambition ouer man to get the grace of Kings, who being king it is enough, and no matter what Kings they are. These men did not only ioyne with the rest in what they aduised, but added of their owne inuentions, leading them on by traines into the snare.

When time was ripe for the action, and the discouery, the King called an assembly of all his Lords, and as it were to rectifie some things that were a∣misse, and to giue satisfaction to his people, if any thing troubled them, be∣sides to propound warr against Celicia, their ancient and new growne ene∣mie. These friends (for too honest the maine part were to be called conspi∣rators) came with the rest, and so obeyed the orders and commands of the King who help'd some things, but their cheife grieuances were not brought in, at last these poore betrayed Lords were, when earnestest for their Coun∣try, cross'd and cut short by the King, which mooued them so much, as ra∣ther then suffer dishonour they flew out; many of the Commons tooke part with them, but such is the bacenes of common people, as they left them as soone as they heard one Proclamation against them; they were soone taken, some kild that would withstand, but Sildurino his Grandfather was taken, and not denying the determination held among them, was executed, his sonns not being of the confederacy were degraded, their houses razed, and their name vtterly forgotten by cōmand of neuer being mentioned more then by their Christian names, their goods confis••ated, & lands forfited to the King, themselues confined to one house the poorest their father had, where they were bound to liue without titles, or meanes, but from staruing, and if they broke the command, death ensued. Many other noble families fell also, my Grandfather likewise sufferd for this busines, but so great a fall it was, not to vs, since there was none left but my selfe to inherit his estate, and I so vnbles∣sed a woman as merrit no other then a most vnfortunate being.

We two as borne to ill, and misfortune, fell as vnluckily to loue each o∣ther, loue I thinke I may say we did, I am sure he liked, at least much dissem∣bled, and I dare sweare I loued, yet as a conclusion must come to all things, so did there one fall, and a desperate one for me, for he left me, alas vnkindly left me, who intirely loued him, and mourne in heart and soule still for him, and my losse. Alas (said I to my selfe) what made him leaue me? he told me, I was growne an old Wench, he hath chosen an elder whom he adores, and worships like a Saint, and well may he doe so, for shee seemes rather an Image then a fleshly body, or rather a relique of what had been to bee reuerenced, then a substance to be beloued.

But if I speake much in this kind, your Maiestie may thinke, enuy speakes in mee, though this is but truth, and most true, that she hath the aduantage

of winning, and keeping a loue aboue all other women, for so powerfull shee is in the gaining, sparing neither estate, honor, nor trauell to accomplish her desires; then so diligent, and carefull in the preseruing her gaine, as it is im∣possible to get one backe againe that shee hath gotten. She will not neglect occasions, seruices, duties, that seruants were fitter to doe; nay, so busie shee will be in her house to haue any thing shee imagines will please, as shee ap∣peares to strangers, rather an Hostesse, then a Mistris: but such a Mistris shee hath euer been, for he is but one of a great summe of seruants which shee hath past her time with all, but now decayd and growne old as I and others are, she holds only him, (at least as he thinks, though God forgiue me if I belieue it not, or that hee is alone) and him by Inchantment surely; for shee is now at this present the most contrary woman to his former choyces that can be in∣uented, nay, to his opinions, as his owne hand can witnesse; but he hath for∣gotten them as me, and we must suffer to satisfie his varietie and loue to it. But how if he returne to your loue, will he be receiued or slighted, said the Queene? me thinkes these weeds promise pardon, since none would mourne for that they care not for. The care of him and for him made me first weare them, answered Myrasilua, but now I mourne for mine owne misfortune, and I assure my selfe may still for any hope of his alteration; no alas Madam, he is left, and I vndone may see it. I confesse hee did many times about the the time of his change, speak in a kind, as if it had been my fault and neglect, that made the alterations, but my soule and his know the contrary: I saw him going, I sought to preuent it, but when I found such priuate meetings, such plots to cousen himselfe by deceiuing me, and my trust in him, I could not sue for impossibilities, nor seeke where I was refused and wrongd. Some said (as I remember one that followed, or haunted him I thinke) that surely twas my lasinesse, and her actiuenesse that won him; Ah (said I) if he were to be wonne, I could not loose him, now I know I cannot keepe him, nor could I almost keepe my wits for the affliction of it, since I find he was, and is but a man that I so much reuerenced, no God but in my Idolatry; a Diuell to my rest and quiet content, of which I haue not tasted since his leauing me, but so well, or much acquainted with these, as I thinke ioy, or they would bee dis∣tastefull to me. Be not of that opinion (said Pamphilia), but thinke how to embrace him with the former affection, and loue as you were wont; loue him and forget what is past, remember it not so much as to question it, wrap vp the former crosses and misfortunes all in a sheet of forgiuenes, and drowne them in the Sea of your patience, and renued loue, smile on him and his re∣pentance as on his loue, and first sute, welcome his returne as his first professi∣on, and embrace his second loue in the armes of your truest and dearest thoughts, as you did his vowes, and louing protestations; be resolute to for∣get, and in forgiuing, receiue him a new man yet the same louer he was when perfectest. If his perfections were not blotted with change (said the Nimph) I could doe them, for in troth Madam, my heart and soule re∣ioyceth when I thinke, or heare of him; therefore I feare I cannot re∣fuse, which is the cause I pray daily to hold me out of his sight, since I cannot see him, but to my deadly torment in anothers possession, then how may I hope to see him returne, I find no possibilitie to enioy, or hope for it.

Trust me (said the Queene) hee is recanting, and ere long you will see it, but be carefull in accepting, lest the others importunitie, and your slacknesse marre not all againe. Then did the Queene tell her all that had passed be∣tweene her, the Emperour and the Shepheard, which made her a most ioy∣full woman, and glad besides for his sake, that the Queene tooke his talke so well, touching her Maiesties selfe so nearely. Their discourse ended, and Myrasilua hauing giuen her word to be kind againe, or rather to coutinue so as well in expression to him, as in her heart she still had been, entreated Pam∣philia to sup, and accept of such fare, as Forresters had in those Desarts. She gaue her many thanks, and went out with her, so they eat, and after the Queen went to bed, desiring to be alone, the freelier to thinke of her other selfe; and though she enioyed not his sight, to see him liuely in her soule, where he was ingrauen by faithfull memory.

O Amphilanthus (said she) why hast thou left thy poore Pamphilia thus, newly raised from death of despaire, to the life of hope and happinesse, to be cast downe lower, then before in misery? My better and dearer selfe, I know it was not thy meaning to leaue mee thus soone, nor in this manner. What Deuill is risen now to vndoe, and murder my content? Accursed bee this Wood, the Day we went an hunting, the motion to that rude sauage exer∣cise, and all appurtenances that brought, or aided to my losse. My sweetest life, how doe I perpetually dye in thy absence? My dearest heart, returne and restore me, else come to see me die•• and close my dying eyes with thy all•• conquering, and beloued hands; or if it would grieue thee, yet be content to spare me wishes in thy absence, and liue thou as happy, as thou art most wor∣thy. Let these eyes be blessed (if possibly I may aske and obtaine such a bles∣sing) with seeing thee againe: let me be the fortunate finder of thee, and let me find thy fauour still to me, then most luckely and eternally happy search. With these, and many more such passionate words, shee spent most time of the night, till being tired, sleepe would haue his share of the royall Queene, and so she slept, but not long before she started, cryed out, O stay, and liue with me, follow not her, that loues thee not like me, forsake me not againe; Oh stay, with that she stayd her speech, for then she came out of her dreame, and seeing it was but a dreame, was a little better satisfied, yet so it stuck in her, as the abiding of it so fresh in her thoughts, foretold an extraordinary matter in it. Shee dreamt, that shee had him in her armes, discoursing with him; but hee sad, and not speaking, of a sudden rose, and went to the doore, where shee thought shee saw Lucenia calling to him, to whom hee went, and downe the staires with her, then tooke Coach and fled away with her, which made her crie with that haste and loudnesse, but hee went still with Lucenia, neuer looking towards her, and so she lost sight of them, Coach and all; an odde Omen, considering all that happned afterwards.

Well, shee rose as soone, as day appeared, and taking her leaue of that kind Nimph, shee tooke her horse, a••d went into the Wood, trauelling till shee came into the Desartest place, and most obscure of that part, riding vp and downe as well as shee could for the thicknesse of it, shee per∣ceiued at last vpon a white Bone that lay there (which had beene of some beast that had been killed, or died there, and the rest consumed, or then

away) one drop of blood fresh, and then a little from that more, and so following it, came to a place where there was a pretty quantitie, and only the tract of one horse to be seene, she feared, and tracking the blood till shee came to a place made round like a Crowne of mighty stones, in the mid'st one greater then all the rest, and on that the Armour of Amphilanthus, his Sheild, and Sword, but that was stroke with such force & strength into the stone, and as if runne halfe way in it, as none could stirr it, that, and the ar∣mour was hacked, and cut in many places, besides all bloudy, and the blood as fresh, as if but newly shed, on the other side his horse lay dead, and hard by an infinite and huge Boare slaine, yet so terrible to behold, as it almost ama∣sed the beholders, a little from thence a Gentleman of excellent proportion dead also; but the Queene looked on nothing but her Deares Armour and Sword; after she saw the Knight, and knew him not being vnarmd, standing as still as the stone, and as vnmoueable, till at last she sunke to the ground in a swound; her women helpt to vnlace her, and her Knights fetched water and such things to bring her to life againe, as they could get there. In the meane time came a Knight in gilt armour, and seeing this miserable specta∣cle, hee kneeled dowue by the Queene, and assisted her poore Ladies, whose griefe and amasement was such, as they were scarce able to doe the seruice re∣quired at their hands. At last she breathed, and then sighed, looked vp, cryd, O my deare Amphilanthus, I come, I come, then fainted againe, and againe they fetched her. When she saw she had not power to die, as she hoped, and found her selfe in the armes of an armed Knight, she said; Sir, I beseech you what authoritie haue you ouer mee in my misery, that you venture to hold me from my resolution? either I pray leaue me presently to my owne will, or more kindly send me to him, after whom I will not liue. What account can I giue the world of his losse, whom all the world admired and loued? What will Germany, Italy, and all say of me? what curses lay vpon me, and my Country, when they shall know that with me, and in this place they haue lost him? Accursed Country, but more accursed woman, for whose sake the Earths glory and happinesse came into it, and here, Oh here is? More shee would haue said, but her speech and voyce faltred. The Knight had puld off his Helme, and then as passionatly weeping and lamenting as they did, hee spake, being knowne to be Polarchos. Alas Madam (said he) how comes this misfortune, be like your selfe, and tel me, that I may, and your other seruants redresse this wrong as neare as wee can, and know what is become of that royall man. O Polarchos (said shee) how can I looke on thee, and say, thy Lord is dead, and so my heart departed. Neuer let mee heare those words, cryd he: but where is his body, or how know you he is dead? What can be hoped, for else, said she? see you not his sword that made so many bow, and yeeld? his armes that serued him in so many conflicts, his horse that neuer failed, while he had life, how can it be otherwise, but he is dead since, what else could s••perate him from these Iewels. Then afresh they lamented and cryd; but Pamphilia at last remembred (calling his sweetnesse, and loue as freshly, and affectionately to her sight as if present, but most grieuously, be∣cause parted) that hee was not armed, when he par••ed from her, that gaue a Spring to hope, and made her stay her teares, till she was resolued, which soone shee was by Polarchos, who told her, that hee hauing romed vp and

downe the Forrest, at last returned to the Tents, where hee with the rest of the Officers staied with their prouisions, expecting them to come to rest, and feede on those things they had prouided, and so returne to the City. But as he came, and lighted, instantly a young fellow like a Forrester, came crying, That your Maiesty was taken away by Theeues, and carried into the thickest part of the Wood, whereupon he armed himself, and speedily tooke the way he directed him; wee with as much speed as we could followed him, but in the Woods we lost sight of him, and all (as if led by seuerall Spirits) are scat∣tred and lost. Lost indeed, said she, we all are, since he is lost, more worth then the whole Earth, and lost by treason, as now it plainely appeares; then they fell to their lamentations againe, but Polarchos tooke the Armes, and would haue put them vp. No, said she, these shall here remaine, none being worthy to touch, much lesse to weare them after him. Then they hung them vp, putting in pinnes of Gold into the great stones, and on euery stone hung a piece, inriching that Crowne with more rich ornaments (hauing then the Armes of the most magnanimious Prince of the World) then if the costliest Diamonds had been inchased in them; the Sword they also thought to hang vp with his Sheild, but Polarchos could no more mooue that, then Pamphilia; the Scaberd they hung with the Sheild, and vnder-writ some lines, Pamphi∣lia both making them, and ingrauing them, as shal be told hereafter. Polarchos began to be a little better in hope, when he saw the Sword in that order, trust∣ing it was but some Inchantment, from which he might be deliuerd, though held some time from them, which was a new griefe to thinke vpon. When they were going away, the Queene to lament and mourne, which she vowed during her life to doe, and Polarchos to liue in some remote place, neuer to see man nor creature more, the excellentest being gone, they saw out of holes in the stones, smoake, and fire suddenly to flie out with it. Pamphilia aduentu∣red, and pulling hard at a ring of iron which appeared, opned the great stone, when a doore shewed entrance, but within she might see a place like a Hell of flames, and fire, and as if many walking and throwing pieces of men and wo∣men vp and downe the flames, partly burnt, and they still stirring the fire, and more brought in, and the longer she looked, the more she discernd, yet all as in the hell of deceit, at last she saw Musalina sitting in a Chaire of Gold, a Crowne on her head, and Lucenia holding a sword, which Musalina tooke in her hand, and before them Amphilanthus was standing, with his heart ript open, and Pamphilia written in it, Musalina ready with the point of the sword to conclude all, by razing that name out, and so his heart as the wound to pe∣rish. Faine she would, nay there was no remedy, but she would goe in to helpe him, flames, fier, Hell it selfe not being frightfull enough to keepe her from passing through to him; so with as firme, and as hot flames as those she saw, and more brauely and truly burning, she ran into the fire, but presently she was throwne out againe in a swound, and the doore shut; when she came to her selfe, cursing her destinie, meaning to attempt againe, shee saw the stone whole, and where the way into it was, there were these words writ∣ten.

FAithfull louers keepe from hence None but false ones here can enter:

This conclusion hath from whence Falsehood flowes: and such may venter.

Polarchos attempted likewise, but could only (for being vnconstant) passe the flames, but not come within reach of the Emperour, but then was cast out also. The Queene then perceiued what this was, and so as sadly as before resolued, shee returned to the Court, where more like a religious, then a Court life, she liued some yeares. Polarchos presently prouided long gray Roabes, like a Hermit, and on the outside of the Armes-crowned Crowne he made a Cell, where he liued daily beholding the Armes, and lamenting for his Lord, kissing the stone wherein he thought he was inclosed, and thus liued he, guarding the Armes of his Lord, till the aduenture was concluded.

The other eleuen Princes that came with Amphilanthus into Pamphilia, and were as Polarchos hath told you scatterd, and deuided in the Desart, it was the fortune of the Prince of Transiluania to come within two daies after to the same Lodge, where the Queene had laine with the dainty sad Nimph; but hearing of Pamphilias being well and safe, onely perplexed for the want of Amphilanthus, staied not, but followed the search of them both, till hee came to the sea-side, where beholding the waues, and comparing mens for∣tune to the rising, falling, and breaking of them, he saw a little Bote come to∣wards the land, and in it a faire Damsell, weeping and pitifully complaining. The Prince tooke great compassion of her, demanding the cause of her sor∣row.

Alas Sir (said she) shall I tell you, and you prooue like other Knights, I may well then accuse my forwardnesse, and paine; but if you will promise to suc∣cour my Lady, who is so faire, worthy and great, as will take away the shew of my imperfections, perfect in nothing but duty to her, I will then tell you what you aske. Speake faire, and sad Lady (said he) and I vow to serue your Lady, and your selfe with my best indeauours, although I must tell you, I am in search of such, as vnwillingly I would be diuerted, but com∣passion compells me to serue you. She thanked him, and thus proceeded. Blessed may you, and all your enterprises be, who for a distressed Ladies sake will lay aside your own occasions, and let me know I beseech you, to whom she is thus much ingaged. I am (said he) Prince of Transiluania, seruant to the Emperour Amphilanthus, from whom I was parted in yonder Desart, and haue since sought him, and was yet in the quest of him, and the Queene of this Country, with eleuen Princes more his seruants, all seuered from one another, and seeking each other; God send they may happily meete said she; and you braue, and courteous Prince be for euer happy for your no∣blen••sse. The businesse which vrgeth mee to demand your helpe is this, my Lady and Mistris is the Princesse of Lycia, only daughter to the King of that Country, next neighbor to this place, so as your stay shall not bee very long from your search; with this Lady the Lord of the Mountaines called Tau∣rus (an vnworthy man, rude, proud, ill-fauourd, sauage and rough as well in person, as in maners, but wonderfull powerfull, and mighty of body, meanes and people) fell in loue; shee being as delicate, as hee abominable, which made her hate him as much, as he sought her, but her father a good Prince, louing peace, would not prouoke warre, but rather yeeld her to him.

This brought the sweete Princesse into desperate melancholly, and dis∣paire, but a Noble man as well in truth of vertue, as descent and honour to defend her from so much harme, tooke her into his protection the same day she should haue beene giuen to the Mountaine Lord, venturing life, honors, and estate to keepe her free. This being discerned by the cruell proud man, and her father, the good old King troubled withall, vtterly disclayming any knowledge of it; they raised men to take her backe by force, and catch him, who should certainely suffer for such an attempt: but the place is strong, the cause good, and the defence iust, and honest, so as none I hope will doe other then pitty her, and seeke to redresse her wrongs; this hath continued eight moneths, and now the King hath sent directly to her, to yeeld her selfe into his hands to be bestowed on the feirce Montaltanus, or to bee forsaken for euer of him, and disinherited.

This message was heauily receiued by the poore Princesse, yet she resol∣ued to dye disinherited, and be the poorest in estate, rather then the vnhap∣piest by marryage; wherefore after an humble answer, and dutifull refusall of yeelding to be wife to Montaltanus; she demanded one request of her fa∣ther, which was to let it bee lawfull for her to send forth in search of some Knight, who would defend her quarrell against him, whom if he ouercame, she should be yeeded vnto his Maiestie, if her Knight got the victory, then she should be free, and inherit what she was borne vnto, and this to be per∣formed in two months, and peace in the interim.

These things were agreed on, and granted with much vaine-glory on the assured Champions side; then did the Lady send foure Damsells abroad, of which number I am one, three are returned without finding any, and now are but three dayes left of the perfixed time, the Nobleman hath also his par∣don granted on the conditions of conquest by the strange Knight, else at the Kings dispose. Now Sir, if you please to vndertake the quarrell, you shall make an noble braue (but vnfortunate) Princesse bound vnto you, and hers, all your seruants. Is the Noble man said the Prince, in whose hands shee is, marryed, or ambitious by his seruice to obtaine her? He is married truely Sir said she, & hath a vertuous Lady to his wife, as forward, & euer was as himselfe to serue the Princesse, and only pittifull respect brought him to venturne vpon this danger; I will be their seruant answered the Prince, and venture my life to release her and saue him: Together they went, shee the happiest woman liuing, in that she thus should serue her Mistris, and the Campe they gained, the night before the expecting time of Combat, hee pass'd by the Campe, and through some part of it, hauing license as it was appointed, and agreed on, those that saw him, commended him much, for a braue and personable man, likely, and promising much in him: but when hee came to the Castle, the pleasure the Princesse, and her friends felt, can∣not be expressed, especially in the Lady her selfe, who imagin'd at first sight it had beene Amphilanthus, and indeed she might easily bee deceiued, for he some what (and much for his honour) resembled him, but hee wanted much of well marked, for he was short of him in stature, more in shape, and colour being blacker, and most in sweetenes, and perfect louelynes, yet this was a very braue Gentleman, his greatest faults being to high an opinion of his owne worth, which was lessned by his ouer valuing of that, which o∣therwise

had beene more valued; but this businesse hee vndertooke, and brauely performed the next day, ••ncountering his enemie in a List, made of purpose betweene the Campe, and Castle, the Lady being placed by her Kingly Father, in a Throne raysed of purpose for them.

Then entred the great arrogant Mountaine Lord, to meete no lesse a selfe esteeming Prince, who was mounted on a braue stirring horse, the coulers he wore were straw couler, and haire couler: the Caparisons were cut into the shape of leaues, dead the couler shewed them, and being set on straw couler cloath of Gold, they seemd as if fallen on sand, and moouing with the Ayre which the horses motions made likely, and so pretty: On his sheild he had a dead Tree painted, saue in the midst of the naked body, there was as it were one little knot of leaues budding forth, & seeming greenish with a word in his language, which interpreted, was vnderstood that there yet was some hope. These Armes, and furniture were new, which might haue distasted the young Lady, but the losse of his Emperiall Master coulered that sufficiently.

The feirce Montaltanus was in blood red, like his cruell disposition: Plume he had none, nor deuise, saying those were only things propper to Feasts, and younge men, who thought more on fashion then busines; a great, and much stirring Horse he also had, which well he gouern'd, for a ve∣ry good Horse man he was, and full of valliant courage. The place, specta∣tors, Iudges, and themselues ready, the Trumpets sounding, they encoun∣ter'd, in which encounter they shewed all that could be required of strength, skill, and rage, yet the last so much gouern'd, as made the best iudging eies say, that shewed it selfe more then dainty, and exquisite cunning would haue permitted, running something to the conceipt of boisterousnes, but they meant to fight, not to play: Then drew they their swords, after the break∣ing their staues, without any aduantage on either side, and fiercely fought while one houre lasted, & past before any aduantage was seene, till the Tran∣siluanian casting his eies on his hope, and Lady, gained so much force, as hee strooke the proud Mountaner such a blow on his Helme, as hee made him stoope to the Earth, and then strake off his head, taking off the Helme, he by the hayre which was long, carryed it to the Princesse, presenting it vnto her, which she receiued with thanks, and so much gratefulnes, as in requitall, and with consent of her Father, and friends she gaue her selfe to the Conque∣ror, as the best part of his Conquest, and what hee as affectionatly, as fortu∣nately embraced; yet loue to his Master made him stay but a small time there, though he might thus haue beene excused, but he was forced to bee accom∣panied in some part of his iourney, for he going into the Kingdome of Pam∣philia, his new wife and deerest loue, would not be denyed to goe thither with him, most for company, but much to see the admired Queene, so as soone as the King had ma••e the People sweare faith vnto them, as his suc∣cessors they departed for Pamphilia,

Ten y••t are left in search of the Emperour, but it was the Bauarian Duk's fortune to meete the next Aduenture, which was this; hauing trauelled long in the Desart, weary with paine, and fruitlesse search, hee came vnto the skirts thereof, which were high Hills towards Lycia, at the bottoms hee be∣held faire, and pleasant Meadowes, and delicate streams running through

them, he descended, and comming into them, hee found many folks there mowing the grasse, and some making it vp for their winter prouision, shew∣ing thriftyer People they were then those that prodigally spent the present time without care of the future. He spake vnto them kindly, and they re∣spectiuely gaue him answere. He demanded if they knew of any strange Knights passing that way; they answered that two in faire Armours, the one blew, flowred with Gold, the other russet and siluer, (by which hee knew them to be of his companions, the one the Duke of Wirtenberg, the other of Brunswicke) passed by in great hast, inquiring after an old man and a young Damsell, who it seem'd had done some ill Act, or pretended some against them.

The Duke courteously thanked them, and so ha••ted after them, being di∣rected the way they tooke, he passed till hee came to the head of a Riuer, whose sweetnes at the begining could not content it selfe, but it must wilful∣ly runne in Pride, so farre till it looseth it selfe in the Lycian Sea; like such ambitious men as neuer thinke they haue the full of preferment, by honors, riches, or any other benefit, till they swallow themselues vp in the Gulfe of merrited Death. From this not farre off hee espied a Towne, and a braue Country about, sweete, rich, and euery way delicate, called Myra; he rode still towards it, comming among dainty Meadowes, and fruitfull plaines, admyring this place, he had a greater cause giuen him of admiration, for he saw a Pyramede iustly before him curiously made, and as richly adorned with rare Trophies belonging to Loue, which shewed that it was dedicated to that God, but one thing seemed strangest to him, which was a Garland hanging on the one side of it, of flowers dead, & withered, some fallen off, o∣thers decayed, following them that were gone before, and vnder it these lines grauen in a peece of Brasse.

EGypts Pyramid's inclose their Kings, But this farr brauer, nobler things; Vertue, Beauty, Loue, Faith, all heere lye Kept in Myras Tombe, shut from eye: The Phoenix dyes to raise another faire, Borne of her ashes, to be heire; So this sweete Place may claime that right in w••e, Since heere she lyes, Heauen willing so.

The braue Knight beheld it very wishly, coniecturing by it, that it was the Tombe of some famous woman, and that Monument made for her by her seruant, which made him lament (though a stranger) for them both; for her, as a losse to those parts, neuer to be repayred; for him, as neuer to be re∣lieued hauing such a losse. Then he called to mind his owne fortune which made him light, and laying, or rather throwing himselfe vpon the grasse, at the foote of the Pyramede, letting his horse goe at his owne pleasure, while his Master felt none of that part, groaning out these words, and weeping he deliuered them. How fit is this Aduenture befallen me to be brought to this place where I may freely, and sadly without interruption breath out my my∣series? Vnfortunate Peryneus, what is Bauaria, or all the world to thee, ha∣uing

lost thy onely delight, and for that which thou didst loue them? O thou Mirror of thy time and sexe: Dearest Ely••••, was thy Spring and young Summer too sweet, and pleasing for vs; nay, such as we did not, or could not bee worthy of it? was thy tendernesse too delicate, or thy delica∣cie too tender to suffer it selfe with vs: thy exquisite sweetnesse, such as wee like Bees would greedily haue sucked, thy daintines to inrich our plea∣sures; and therefore fearing wee should surfet, would take away all, lest part might hurt.

Dearest Elyna, yet though thy goodnesse was beyond our merit, why wouldest thou for euer leaue thy faithfull Peryneus, who dyes in thy losse, and liues but in thy memory: Then turn'd hee himselfe on his backe, crying out, O Heauens, why did you behold her end without fatall-killing thunder, and all stormes that could be thought on, or executed by you? ne∣uer let such cruelty againe bee indured, plagues being their companions, noysome smells and dangerous infections; but the greatest plague could come depriuing the Earth of her, hath yet brought but this, that with her last breath shee sweetned for euer the ayre, and left the most delicate odour of her most sweet breath to blesse the Countrey, as if of purpose, that all may say, this was Elyna's breath, and wee must breathe to her me∣mory.

My onely companion Memory, a••••ist mee now, and let mee to thee, and with thy helpe, relate againe our loues.

Thou knowest when, young, wanton and idle, I liu'd at the Emperours Court, courting, and oft times receiued of the not refusing Ladies: Elyna appeard like the happy signe of no more destruction in that kinde, for I had before felt paine and pangs of loue, but shee tooke away all, giuing mee life and comfort; for shee requited me, nay deseru'd more then I could giue her, so as I remaind wanting, but not in want of loue faulty. Thou canst with mee remember how I lou'd a Maide belonging to the Empresse, faire and fond shee was, and so her fortune continued with the latter; but her I left. Thou canst call to minde that a Widdow lou'd mee, and I receiued her affection; for who would denye beauty and kindnesse? But shee was not for mee, though for the satisfaction of her fondnesse I fondly ventur'd danger.

Thou wilt (it may be) say I was led astray with the liking of a Dutchesse, wife to a great Duke, I cannot denye that: but both of vs must ioyne, and truely say, Elyna came like a faire chaste cloud, and wrapt vp my heate in her snowy armes, keeping it onely to warme her requiting breast, but hid the bright hot beame from harming her, or making others ei∣ther warme with delight, or hot with fury for it.

Sweetest Elyna, my soules ioy is thinking of thee, wert thou not yet vnkinde a little in leauing mee, yet diddest thou leaue mee the wor∣thiest way, and noblest; nothing but death tooke thee from mee, no other threed broke; nor any but that cruell fatall Sister, could haue disseuered our twiued loues; nor hath death done that, for dy∣ing thou diddest bequeathe thy loue to mee, and met and equall'd by mine owne, it remaines ioyntly mix'd; not two, but one,

and such an one since compounded with them, as now I may boldly say, I hold inclos'd in mee the richest treasure of loue and faith that euer mans brest had, being the glory of both Sexes, hers for worth, mine for humili∣ty and loyalty.

I remember kinde Memory, when shee told me shee fear'd our loues were discouer'd to the suspitious Empresse, how sweetly and carefully shee spake vnto mee, wishing my care of my selfe, but expressing her loue in the height of kindnesse to mee, fearing shee could not enough let mee know both, or feare both without a lesse loue then passion would permit; yet thus shee was cleer'd from suspition that passion neuer had more force, nor yet more regular power then in her, Shee as passionately louing as any, yet with that discretion temper'd it, as none so discre••tly shewed passion.

Shee forbad mee not speaking to her, comming to her chamber, looking on her, writing to her, (as idle humorous Louers doe) startling at euery motion, Loue being in them but like Hunny kept in the Hiues, many stings of trouble to hold one from inioying: but in her loue and care were reall, and so vsed; no lesse was her fashion no∣ble, kinde, and free, then when no suspition was, not although the Empresse tooke her about the necke, led her to a window which looked on a Tarras, bad her looke forth, and tell her who that was who walked with his back to∣wards them; shee answering, it was Peryneus. Is hee not (said shee) the hansomest man you euer saw? Truely (said shee) Madam, his minde ioyn'd to his person, makes him appeare excellent, and such I dare presume your Maiesty thinkes him to bee; shee answer'd nothing, but frownd. Elyna retyr'd, yet neuer stir'd from her former braue carriage to mee, loue in her (indeed) being most excellent.

O Elyna, Elyna, what shall I say more, or can say lesse, and speake truth, but that thou wert liuing, and dead art the worthiest example of thy Sexe. That is enough, & too much said one, who lay on the other side of the Pyra∣mide; for Myra was and is beyond her, take life or death which you will: I will venture both and take the worser, answer'd hee, rather then heare Ely∣na wrong'd.

They both were angry, both vex'd: but hasty in choller, tooke not the hurtfullest, though the readiest way to hurt; for they flew one vpon the other with great fiercenesse, but small harme could insue, for no weapons they vsed but their hands, the one hauing none, the other at first for haste vsing none, and after finding the others want in honor to his Mistresse, would not contend with an vnarmed man, not (as hee deemed him) worthy to bee medled withall in so noble a quarrell, vnlesse hee came like a man to main∣taine such a businesse of so great weight; wherefore stepping from him, hee thus resolutely spake to him.

Vnfortunate man (said hee) see thy error in double kinde made plaine vn∣to thee; tell not mee of plaine shewing errors, but rather plainly confesse your presumptuous fault, or let vs trye it out with the sword: Thou art (said Peryneus) vnarm'd, and yet arm'd with the greatest insolencie in the world, to vse these speeches, and venture to cal me to account for a truth, while thou must maintain a falshood in defending thy first foolishly bold words. A sword

I haue said hee, and for other Armes, I haue forsworne wearing any; there∣fore if thou wilt keepe on thine doe, and I make no doubt but to ouerthrow thee and thy armed pride together. With that he took down a sword which hung on the same side of the Pyramide, ouer the place where hee lay: the braue Duke would not take any aduantage of him; besides, assured that his cause was iust, vnarm'd himselfe, and so they were going about to conclude the difference with the end of their liues, to sacrifice their bloods to their dearest and onely Loues memories.

But happier for them and the honour of Louers it fell out; for three deli∣cate Nymphes came by comming from hunting with their bowes in their hands, and Quiuers at their backes, their apparell greene, white buskins and delicate Garlands on their heads; to these two angry Louers they came, and with sweet perswations (mix'd with threatnings to shoot him that first strake a blow) pacified them, desiring to know the ground of the quarrell, and withall the discourse of their fortunes. They consented to the one, but would not promise the other, which was to bee friendes till the Stories were ended, lest new dislike in the relations might arise, if none, they would then obey them; if any, the first was the fittest to bee an∣swer'd.

The Nymphes then to bee no cause of dislike commanded them to draw lottes who should beginne, lest the preheminence might bee a new stirring. They lik'd that well, for therein they thought their Mistresses had honour; the chance fell on the defender of the Pyramide, for so hee call'd himselfe, who began thus.

Sweet Nymphes, and you Sir, will you bee plas'd to know I am called Alarinus of this Countrey, this accursed Countrey, poore beggar'd Coun∣trey, hauing lost all that rich was, worthy or good in it: I was the chiefe of command heerein, but Myra, who commanded all, and all of mee; but she gone, I am no more but lesse then any thing, and now the most miserably o∣uerthrowne and ruin'd: Shee (I say) was sole Lady of this place, which is honour'd with her name, and the holding those sacred reliques her bones and ashes in her bosome where shee is interr'd. A Lady shee was of infinite parts, wanting in nothing but good fortune, which shewed much neglectiue∣nesse to her, enuying surely her worth, and iealous shee should haue had her place and ruled the wheele whereon shee turn'd her to the lowest part, and thus it was.

O thus: can I say thus, and not iust then depart? I can and must; yet O vniustly shee was thus punished surely for my too great offence. Deare, nay, diuinest Myra, thus thy end and my succeeding end did happen, then wrung hee his hands, wept and tumbled on the earth, as weary of all life, shee being gone, then sitting a little vp, his hands vpon his knees, and his head hanging downe deiected, eyes on the ground, and his teares falling from them, as from two stilles, shee was, groned, hee, most faire, loue∣ly, and winning, yet wonne to her selfe a stayed constancie, which made all but my selfe lose, or rather want what they sought. Shee lou'd (in that all-happy man) my selfe; to say I lou'd her, it is too little, all lou'd her, but I seru'd her: many then enuyed mee. I ioyed in her fauour (which was my blessing,) and regarded

nothing else, poore men; said I, that trouble themselues, labouring for the harmefull knowledge of the disdaine allotted them, or to heare of me the man that inrich'd with this hauenly treasure, scornes all other wealth: But the King of Lycia had a Nephew, who would haue her whether she would or no; dislike him she did, refuse him with ciuility and faire language she of∣ten did, at last, flatly deny him she did; vpon this hee laid baites for her, be∣tray her he sought to doe, bribe her seruants hee did, corrupt her counsell hee did, gaine her women by guifts and promises to work his ends he sought, and did; in conclusion, nothing that was ill, false, and harmefull to her, he left vndone; but all treachery and wickednesse hee plotted and did against her, the innocent Doue of vertue: what shee propounded to her counsell, hee knew by them, what shee trusted to her seruants, they deliuer'd to him, what shee confidently put into her womens hands, they instantly gaue him intelligence of, so as shee was betraid like Pidgeons, by a flattering Glasse inticing them to beleeue all was for their good, and so shee was betrayd. The King of Lycia then came to visite her, taking the occasion as hee pre∣tended of being so neere her countrey, which a Progresse had brought him to; hee was entertained answerable to his minde, and for her estate to giue; hee brought also with him a delicate fine young Lady his onely daughter, whom hee put vpon Myra, to perswade for her Cousen; but she was young and her iudgement though good, and great for her yeares, which were but small and came short of hers, to whom shee was to speake, and whom shee should worke by her wit aad sweetnesse: but Myras wit was with∣out compare, her iudgement sollid, and infinite her knowledge, her expe∣rience hauing setled the Monarchy of her excellent parts, so as the Princesse did well, but Myra much better. Shee perswaded prettily, but Myra iudi∣cially refused. The King then return'd troubled, but not expressing it, his disposition being naturally gentle, and milde, soft and not so much as the hardnesse of contradiction in him; grieue hee would sooner then quarrell, and so went home, his Nephew with him puft vp with malice, scorne, and treachery, that sweld as poyson in his brest: but soone did he come againe with all his ill about him (wherewith hee was fill••d like a nut with the ker∣nell, no place void so much in him, as where ayre of vertue might pierce, or be:) Shee seeing him returne vowed to forbid him boldly; but this, as she thought to haue done, was before the act came abroad, pri••ately deliuer'd him by his instruments, but her seruants, which infinitely harmed her; for he to preuent his banishment, and equall her disgracing him, raysed a most de∣testable slander on her, and how? or by whom? but alas, by me saying she had: Rather (I beseech you) imagine, if you can let any ill imagination enter into your thoughts of so excellent a creature, then put mee to rehearse it, or boldly thinke any ill with this consideration, that it was the roote of it selfe, that the Deuill inuented it, and then pitty her and mee, who vniustly suffered, or indeed onely her, since shee alone deserues pitty, be∣ing iniur'd, and for one so vnworthy, yet to her iust: This was none of my least aflictions, since it was the course whereby her fate was gouern'd, lead∣ing her to her end, and making me part of the mischiefe. The State on this imprison'd me, shut her vp in her lodgings, suffering no accesse to her but such as they permitted; hee might and would against her will haue li∣berty,

this so gall'd her sweet nature, a staine in reputation, being so terri∣ble to her, as shame to another was not neere it, besides knowing my im∣prisonment: And lastly, seeing how shee was and had beene betrayed, none being neere her that shee had not found farre from faith to her, ouerpressed with griefe, and grieued with oppression, shee writ vnto the State, finding meanes to haue it deliuer'd safely, looking often to that end out of her win∣dow, and at last seeing a Gentleman, whose faith shee thought vntouch'd, threw the letter to him, not commanding but beseeching him to deliuer it the nxet Sunday, when the Counsell sate, and not to giue it to any one, but to them all, nor to nominate the person so vnfortunate that sent it, lest the knowledge of the sender might hinder the reading of it. The Gentleman promised to doe it, and with honest care and carefull honesty performed it, as shee could haue wished.

Much dispute there was about it, the Counsell were diuided and seuerall opinions held; the i••solent wooer (who would, hee said, for all the know∣ledge of her ill, take her to wife if shee would bee good and true to him af∣terwards) was much against the granting her request: but most voyces car∣ried it, and her desire was consented to in part, which was, that being accu∣s••d, and as shee protested, falsly and shamefully wrong'd by slander, none being able to accuse her but by wicked surmises, shee might haue the law that no ordinary subiect was deny'd, which was that shee might bee clear'd by Combat, that he whosoeuer it were who would maintaine that shee was guilty, might bee encountred by one whom shee should nominate, which was my selfe: but that was refused, for they said, so it might bee but a too honourable concluding of my dayes who had so iniur'd the State in her dishononr, as no punishment could bee sufficient for mee; but if shee could finde one who would defend her, shee should haue leaue to send in search of one, whom, if by the Champion ouercome, shee should be left to his dis∣posing, and I should bee deliuered to him, to haue what seuere punishment hee should in••lict on mee: these were hard conditions; yet shee yeelded vnto them, rather then still remaine in the ill opinion of the world, and both of vs as prison••rs.

Three Gentle-women were then sent forth to seeke a Knight that would venter in her defence, none in the Countrey would, either so frighted they were with the strength of the Prince, or doubtfull of the cause, he hauing made it so foule on her side, so as abandoned of her seruants, strang••rs must relieue her, and from such must her good as her hope proceed. The time grew on, halfe being expired, when one of the women fortunately met the v••l••ant (but proud) King of Celicia, a young man, haughty and ambitious of honour. And who lately dyed for his ambitions, (said Perineus if I bee not deceiu'd) seeking the Starre of women, the Queene of Pamphilia for w••fe.

It may bee so (said Alarinus;) but this was some yeares before that misfo••tune could befall him being in the spring of his aduentures, the blossomes but appearing, scarce blowne, of his valour; or the discouering of it, this being the first great tryall of his strength: But is he then dead (said he?) Yes truly said Peryneus, I saw him slaine by my Master the Emperour Amphilanthus being in Pamphilia, and in the sight of the

Queene whom hee much loued, or seemd to doe so, but I pray goe on. This King comming, and hearing the truth still spread by euery good tongue vndertooke the businesse, partly for Iustice, partly for gaine of honour. Be∣ing arriued at the Court, the insolent wretch, the robber of my Ladies honour, and my blisse; made little account openly of him, though I vn∣derstood afterwards he wished any other of those parts had vndertaken the quarrell, and indeede hee had reason, for hee was a braue Gentleman for strength, valour, and all things required in a Prince, no fault in him but that he had too much, for his pride might haue beene spared.

The day was appointed, and the two Combatants came foorth, my La∣dy and Mistris was in a strong Towre placed onely to see, my selfe right ouer against her, able to see, but not discerne her perfectly, though such were our loues, as our eyes pierced further then any o••hers could haue done, so as wee sawe each other, and clearely discern'd our miseries with open eyes to misfortune; the Combat beganne betweene them, while imprisonments, our eyes beheld each other as greedily, and earnestly the continuall Combate indured in our hearts against our vniust as those did, who contended for victory: we striuing but to giue expressi∣on her due. I saw me thought in her imprisonment, Vniustice, Wrong, In∣iurie, Slaunder; nay, all wickednesse, and so I call'd them all by their names, and reuiled them, but what answere had I? Wickednesse is strong, and hath a more powerfull command in this age, then honesty, or worth.

O me cryd I, must I liue, and onely hope that this man shall giue vs life, or shamefull death? her honour already is dead, killed by that, yet liuing, Villaine, whose death can neuer re-giue life or recouery to that murdered honour.

O deare Honour, how nice art thou, and precious, yet how soone harmd? Like the daintiest skinns soonest Sunne-burnd: Shall these Lockes, cryde I, combat for such a Iewell? Can shee not, or may shee not liue with∣out these rude helps? Must her sacred vertue bee tryed like other questi∣onable, or, shee be named as if in a Romancy, that relates of Knights, and distressed Damosells, the sad Aduentures? O Myra, thou art, and wert e∣uer without compare, wherefore should thy honour bee calld on, but for Honours sake, thy deare breast being the richest tabernacle for it? but what auailed this? Alas nothing, I might sigh, and grieue, they fight, and bleed, but what of all? all came at last to one ende, the Villaine was kill'd by the braue King, but my Lady dyed also, for such a deuice they had, as the battell being hard and questionable who should haue the vi∣ctory: the King fell, but soone recouered, at which instant it seem'd that I threwe my selfe out of the windowe, which was high, and the Ditch infinite deepe into which I was to fall, so as no hope could be of esca∣ping for any that fell there.

Myra might, and did see it, but as most it concernd her, so did it worke in her, for shee instantly withdrew her selfe from the windowe, threw her selfe vpon her bedd, ctyed out onely against misfortune, and so brake her heart, and dyed, her last words being, yet though honour, and life bee lost, I dye iust, and truely thine, my onely deare Ala-: and this Ala: was all, for all my name shee spake, death either then wholly pos∣sessing

her, or shee desirous still to hold mee neere her, kept that last part in her, for her to ende with, and mee to liue by; yet truely had I like to haue gone with her, with her (though asunder) I may say, for our soules vnited had gone together: but alas, I was not so happy, though had I had a spirit like hers, or weapons suffered mee, I had soone ouertaken her, or came to her as her soule parted, but I was hindred, and ••he had all my powerfull spirit, the shew of my falling, and the truth of her death, was thus.

The Villaine had dressed mee, and a stuff'd-man-like••thing in sutes alike, his intent being this, (and such was the performance in some kinde though too hasty they were) that if the King ouercame, I should bee throwne downe, if the other, the counterfeit piece should bee cast foorth, that all hope being taken from her shee might the sooner yeeld to him: but the Executioners seeing the King downe, threw out the framd Alarinus, which brought as much mischiefe as all ill could doe, for shee seeing it, imagining it to be mee, dyed, and left all misery to dwell with vs, especi∣ally in me. I fell from the window in •• swound, thinking the day lost, they heeded not any thing more, but confident of the Champions victory, tended mee, striuing to saue me to this misery.

The doores within a little while after were opened, and I fetch'd foorth to death, I thought, but so it happened not, nor neere so much good be∣fell mee, for I no sooner saw liberty with the King who came for mee, but I mette the cruellest of deaths encountring her death. O Myra, my best, and last Loue, thy memory liues in mee, and I liue but to remem∣ber thee; now let mee know, if so much loue, so much misfortune, cha∣stity, and deare true Loue rested in your Mistresse, else I must not yeeld?

Hee then twin'd his handes one in another, wrung them, and sighing wept, then lay downe on his side, leaning his elbow on the ground, and his face on his hand, when the Bauarian followed thus. Loue (I confesse) you haue had plentifully shewed vnto you; yet as grie••e is felt but by one's selfe, none being able to compare with the knowledge, vnlesse hee felt the equall weight: no more can I yet see, but that my losse is the greater.

My selfe am called Peryneus Duke of Bauaria, but vassell to misfortune, my Lady was called Elina daughter to the Duke of Saxony that now is, brother in law to the Emperour that then was, she was brought vp with the Empresse, and there I fell in loue with her, she asmuch did affect me, although at that time there were three of vs fiercely wooing her, the other two were the Dukes of Brunswicke, and Wertenberge, the one infinite rich, but as poore in naturall perfections, for hee is weake in iudgement and dis∣course, else faire and white.

The other as louely as a man can bee, or indeed, a woman for delicate clearenesse, and sweetnesse, but wanting in estate as the other in wise∣dome. My selfe the third, and such as you see gained the loue from the other two, and the hate of the one while shee was liuing, now hee vseth mee well, but so shee had beene still, would I had still beene hated. My ill fortune it was also that the Empresse liked mee, shee was

not so true a wise as Vlisses had, but yet shee was, and had a braue Woman, and belou'd of many, shee nobly requiting most, for gratitude is a great matter in Louers.

This sweet Bird of beauty, and vertue, Elyna, saw the Empresse Loue, as clearely as her owne could make it transparent, through which shee saw likewise sorrow, and was sad, as dispayring; I hauing that countenance as carefully beholding her, as her loue cared for mee; I fear'd shee lou'd I sawe shee lou'd, and grieued because shee loued; For O me, I durst not thinke it was my selfe: the King of the Romans then, now my Lord the Emperour, (after his receiuing that Title, for ouerthrowing the vsurping Duke of Sax; in whose place and to whose honour, and estate, my Ladies Father, by the Emperours and Princes fauours succeeded) came to Prage where the Court was; to entertaine him all triumps were prouided, none thought enough to welcome him who had saued the Empire from ruine. Sports of Field were most in vse, the King most affecting them, at those exce∣rcises I was one, and then called the seruant to the Dutchesse, she pleased to honour me with a fauour, but the greatest honour was, that she sent it by Elina, who comming into the Chamber of Presence, hauing layd it on her Fardingale, I approached like the rest, but aboue all others in affection, to her, shee that day honoured me more then vsually, wee was wont, tur∣ning from the rest and looking on mee, bashfully for feare of them, sad∣ly because imployed against her selfe as for another, sweetly, but slowly bring••ng foorth these words.

I am said shee (O dearest shee) entreated by many to giue fauours this day, but my Lord I am determined to deny all, because not able to con••tent all, yet to you who haue not asked, I must present this Scarfe, giuing me a maruellous rich one of Crimson Tafaty, embrodered with gold, siluer, and dainty coloured Silkes, euen to the height of richnesse, and de∣licacy, but the delicatest delicacie was, that shee presented it mee. I kissed my hand to take it, and kissed that part where shee had touched it, blush I did, and tremble with ioy, and wonder, till shee looking on me; my Lord (said shee) are you amazed, me thinkes you should know the Sender, this shee spake so low, as none but I heard it, and I was sorry I then had hearing, rather would I haue beene deceiued, and thought graced by her, then assuredly honour'd by the Dutchesse, I bowed lowe vnto her, say∣ing, I had been richer in content if she had giuen me a Shooe-string of hers. She star••ed, smil'd, and with her eyes kindly shewed, shee liked my words, but gaue no answer; so I departed, and with the rest of the Court per∣formed what was expected of vs: oft times, I confesse, I looked vp to to the window were shee stood, and thence tooke spirit, an•• hope grew then, and still increased when I sawe shee entertained, and not reiected my humble affection.

Thus were wee fortunate, but how much longer can that word last then it is spoken? Alas, no longer, for no sooner were wee true∣ly assured of what our soules called blisse, enioying hearts wishes in loues happy remembrance, that yet said, this is, and was, when (mi∣serable Fate) her Aunt discerned it, wearing quickely then glasse

eyes to make euery mote seeme thousands, and so in a sol••id body appeare beames to her mistrust, stumbling on all occasions that might bee harmefull to vs. Elyna then grew sickly, what with griefe, and this iealosie, faint and weake, vnable to suffer both the weights of loue and suspition; the former the Empresse tooke to be the cause, and so told her walking in a Garden, and through a hedge spying me, told her, who was saying, she must take phisick, There is the Phisitian (said shee) that best can cure you. The sweetest soule blushed, guiltinesse and feare (seeing her stearne lookes) moouing her bloud.

Her Maiestie seeing that, still built vpon the first ground, and so suddenly in a fret flung out of the Garden. I attented Elyna into her Lodgings, where she related this. I was sorry, and glad at one instant, for still this increased assu∣rance of my happines, b••t being for her trouble, I was grieued. The Empresse then disgraced her; and vsed her with that scorne, as her hart, greatnes, and freenesse could not suffer: But what could shee doe? remedie she had none, her Father demand••d the cause, troubled that shee had lost her Mistrisses rauour, shee could not giue him account without infinite wrong to both; the Empresse being besought by her friends, who all tooke no∣tice of her fall, could gaine but what the rest had that shee was offen∣ded, and iustly, but the cause none should know. At last to some La∣dies, who were mortall enemies to Elyna, and her house, shee said, that the cause was such, as out of loue to the honour of her Familie and Bl••od, shee was sorrie, and vnwilling to tell it, although her owne bace∣nesse merited no other, then publishing for it; for would you thinke it (said shee) all her pride, ha••tinesse, scorne of Louers, disdaine of Dukes and Princes, despising any estate of a lesse man then a King, thinking her selfe worthie of the Emperours successor; all these (I say) are fallen, and how fallen? not slipt, or leant aside, or crackt, that hope might bee of mending, but quite s••nke vnder the bace burden of loue, or lust rather; and of whom? no better, nor other, then Tolmulundus my Gentleman Vsher.

They (though hating Elyna) not louing the Empresse, belieued her not nor could haue so meane a conceit of her, whose worth had increased their dislike, io••ned with the succession of their Spleenitike passions, an∣swered (as after wee came to knowledge) prettily well for her: but this madded the Empresse, when shee saw that friends and enemies, and all were for Elyna, who when shee heard by these Ladies, who instantlie acquainted her with all, either for hate to her, or her Mistrisse, she was afflicted with this more, then with any thing, crying out, O diuelish fortune, cannot my miserie bee sufficient to glut her withall, but my ho∣nour must bee her prey? Well, yet your Maiestie is happie that I know the true reason, and that so much I loue the Bauarian Duke, whose safe∣tie I pref••rre aboue all other fortunes, as I will perish thus in silence ra∣ther then to speake to your ruine, which is in my hands to draw on yo••, since so I might harme him. Was not this an expression of true loue? What greater, since what greater wrong can bee, then for a great Lady to be Slandred, and by so bace a vilany, and so much vntruth? honor is to noble hea••••es esteemd beyond life, so it was by her, who dearest of all to

me held that so pretious, as the touch of it strake so deepe into her, as the bi∣ting of a Viper, taking away all hope of recouerie by present fainting, or safe∣ty to returne to her: for womens honours especially theirs most admired (the admiration working against it selfe) are so nice to be touched, as they are like little Sluses, that but opened, let in Riuers, and Oc••••ns of discour∣ses, and so blots neuer to be salued any more then a Floud can be withstood, or turned backe. This she apprehended, and this molested her; yet (said she to me) my Lord, all these in this kind are comforts and ioyes to me, since for you I suffer, rather chusing, as she protested, iniurie for me, then fame with∣out me; and that which onely vexed her was, that she did not rightly accuse her, and say, it was I shee loued; that (said shee) had been honour, this shame.

At last shee obtained leaue to leaue the Court, and so retired; but then though free, and brauely liuing, yet this was a corsiue to her: many came to her at fi••st, but the report blowne abroad of her loue to mee, made all giue ouer suing; yet a young Count of Germany (and a true Germaine he was in face and fashion) would needs make himselfe belieue he loued her, and her, that hee desired her, but hee s••ake not, and shee would not vnderstand his signes. He would gaze on her, haue fits of sighings, and almost swoundings before her, shee would like a charitable creature gaue him Cordials, but the true Cordiall Loue she only gaue to me. Poore man, would shee say, what doth make him cosen and hurt himselfe, to trouble mee? At last shee told a tale before him of himselfe, his wooing so dully, her scorne, and affection to another, all in the third parsons, but so plainely and finely, as he left her to her pleasures.

The Empresse, whose malice grew as her heart, filled with rancor for be∣ing left by me, for her, who was more loathsome then plagues to her, then to thinke vpon, since the robber of her choice, hearing how finely she liued, enuied that, because she was contented, plotted al she could; & at last she told the Duke her father of the loue betweene vs: he inraged, knowing we could not marry, I being contracted in my youth to another, flew into such furie, as he made the whole Court ring of the noise of his dislike, and the iniury he thought he receiued, and his whole Family, by her dishonoring her selfe and him; this which he called dishonour being his owne indeed, because hee blazed that, which was not but by his owne bawling thought on, neuer com∣mitted. A foule bustle he kept, and shrewdly threatned me behind my back: but I went to him, and satisfied him so far, as we parted friends, and he grew to his old good opinion of her; yet he aduised, playing then the Counseller, as before the Champion, that I should refraine my often cōming to her; which to please him I did, because I saw my Elyna desired, her father should be plea∣s••d, but alas not in that kind, for my absence grieued her, and molested mee; shee pined with loue and griefe, grew pale and weake, I lamented for it; but s•• farre it grew, as she fell sicke: I cherished her, shee tooke it so; I watched with her, shee was glad of it, as louing to enioy mee; •• neuer left her, till li••e left her, which by a cruell Feauer depriued her dainty body of her daintier breath, which was the richest treasure, and which for my ioy then; but eternall sorrow now shee breathed into mee, I kissing her as she depar∣ted, giuing me that, and her loue for the most incomparable Legacy that any

man can or could receiue; thus, thus shee died, and thus yet doth shee liue in me, I breathe her breath, I loue her loue, I liue but for her sake, and I hope shall ere long die to serue her, and goe to her. Then hee threw himselfe flat on the ground, the other looking on him, rose, and lay downe by him, tooke him in his armes, and said, Neuer let strife be betweene vs, whose fortunes so neare concurre, none can be nearer, nor none so like, vnlesse it could bee that Elyna and Myra were but one woman, and you and I one man: we are both equally vnfortunate in losse, they equal in perfections, yours onely somthing more happy in a quieter death, and dying in your armes, mine in a speedier end; thus the difference none, let no difference be betwixt vs. I am as ready to embrace this, as you haue been to vrge it (said Peryneus), none liker Pati∣ence of misfortune, none fitter to agree together; wayle you your worthy chaste Myra, I will lament my chaste and worthy Elyna; sigh you, Ile do so, complaine, Ile answere you, and both conclude as the Period, Neuer liued worthier creatures, neuer vnhappier soules out-liued worth. Thus they em∣braced, thus twined, past some time, and after liued together, attending the Piramede, where twise euery yeare funerall solemnities were done by them: after the first yeare the Bauarian returned home, and there liued in sor∣row, neuer marrying, but still louing his loued Loues memory.

The Nimphs returned, glad of the peace and agreement, while the two Knights (the people spake of in faire armours) went on in the search, being (as Peryneus guessed) the Dukes of Wert••berg, & Brunswicke, who had this accident to bring them into that Country and enquirie. They, as the other Princes, did seeke the Emperour, and the Queene, and fortunately for the one, the Duke of Brunswick, such a youth as Peryneus described him, in a Castle in the Desart, being there receiued ciuilly by the Lord and Lady of that place, the Lord a very old man, the Lady of middle age; he hauing mar∣ried her when hee was aged, and shee young, had one daughter then about fourteene yeares, able to heare of Cupid, though not (it may be) experienced by wound of his force. This young innocent Maide neuer hauing vnder∣stood any thing in that kind of making loue offerd her, nor knowing how to deny, when so kind an offer was made, as profession of being a seruant, and but desiring her fauour, not vnderstanding what such a fauour as a Louer ask∣eth, meant, when the Duke courted her, kissed her hands, vowed his seruice, flattred her innocent eares with faire beguiling words, when his face could not but inuite liking, his smiles won yeelding, his body though low and thicke, his speech was sweete, and being little, like it selfe, little troublesome but more pleasing, then the more kinder Youthes she had euer heard: want of wit was couered with being a Duke, greatnesse being much with many women; his face it is certaine was blush-burnt, but his words delightfull, his countenance mild, his fashion, protestations, amorous entertainement, gen∣tle, daintie, winning; so as one may say in him, the want in his braines were repayed, by the goodnesse and gentlenesse of his fashion, and spirit. Pretty honest hee was, something valiant, aboue most merry, and the pleasingest company that might bee, true in a kind to his friend (a reasonable vertue), loyall to his Prince, courtious to his Blood, and beloued for these little parts of all that knew him, so as his outward beautie and these qualities,

being enriched with a smooth flattering way of louing women, made him gaine well.

These I cannot say out of iudgement in her, wunne her, but by fate it fell on her at first, and after she vsed his vertues but for a mask for her liking him, or an excuse for her choice, when it should haue been a commendations to her vnderstanding, to find so much in the inward part, as to ouersee the or∣dinary way for womens loue, which is outward beauty, and that in some measure he had, that being ioyned with delicate apparrell, being the most vsuall attractiue powers to their affections, as if rather they would loue Pictures, then the wisest or worthiest man in old cloathes, or ill made; Ruffes and Bands being more to a faire Lady, then valour or learning, the one ac∣counted poore and heauy, the other boisterous and troublesome, neate suites better then hacked (though by that) rich armours. O the ignorance of wo∣men, or rather the misfortune of such misunderstanding women; for of that delicate sexe there are excellent creatures, and among those, many Pictures, good Pieces, and in truth this was a pretty one, who willingly, and (alas) gladly receiued the Dukes sute, smiled on his blushing lookes, yet as faire as he could make them: for borne bashfull, hee could not find loue powerfull enough to warrant his face with boldnesse, though to crowne it with obedi∣ence.

Hee finding her comming, how did he leape like a wanton into the Riuer of ioy, swimming, and so embracing comfort in his armes, yet wanting the chiefe part, let slip the flattering hope; againe yet taking the streames in his armes, and striking forward to his ends. Alas what needed this? shee was won, he onely wanted opportunitie, will and consent failed not, which hee finding also, found this meanes to compasse it. The Duke of Wertenberg was lodged so, as his chamber looked into the Garden, which was be∣twixt his Chamber and hers, the windowes opposite, and so crosse, as they were so farre asunder, as they could not doe any more, then see one another, neither perfectly discerne lookes or smiles, nor let speech make their eares beneficiall to them; but louers will make benefit of small things, so did they of this: for heere (hee gaining the helpe of his friend to the good hee sought) hee brought this profit to his loue.

The Duke of Wertenberg was a braue Gentleman, but sometimes sickly, so as hee vsed to lie warmer in his bed, and weare such things as appeared a little woman-like, and withall, something curious he was in his Chamber, which not exceeding the limits that became himselfe, he was neuer blamed for it, but now it brought him praise, because it serued his friend, who thus procur'd his ends. The weather hot, euenings faire, & nights light by the Moones aide, hee perswaded his companion to put on his Wast∣coate, and night-wearing, and walk into the garden, hauing a faire Mantle on his body, he not so much higher then the Page which waited on the Duke, who was a young man, or great boy, took his garment, which was a Horse∣mans coate of cloth, garded with Veluet, that those who might by chance else see them, might thinke they meant not to bee seene, but walked there to passe the euening. Admirably he played on the Lute, and carried one of purpose with him, his Cap hee wore low ouer his face, and came softly

and passionately as louers doe, and might appeare, because otherwise they must haue beene discouer'd: the Duke of Wertenberge acted his part ex∣treamely well, for going, playing, and singing: and well he might, for often he had loued; being crosse the Garden, and almost vnder her window, hee spake in great passion these words.

Vnhappy man, louing vnlou'd•• seruing vnregarded, affecting without helpe, honouring without esteeme, and smarting vnpittied: Turne your fa∣uorable eyes O Heauens on me, and you faire Moone, who it is said gouerne women, and perswade, command not (for she must euer rule) my cruell Mistris to thinke on me, requite me I seeke not, but chastly as you doe, and as fairely, and kindly smile on me: I begge this of you, nor aske but what your cold brightnes, and chast coldnes may grant me; alasse you frowne, and pull a scarfie Clowd ouer your diuine face to hide your fauour from me, and shew your displeasure to me, What shall I doe wretch that I am? all powers earthly haue deny'd me succour, and now the Heauens refuse mee counte∣nance? nothing is left me but dispaire, and thou poore Lute, toucht on then speake vnto me, and let thy musique speake to her, and hold mee if possible, so long in quiet, as attention may make a respite from sorrow, as admiring a change of times, not fortune, for to that I must returne.

The Louer-boy-like Duke, gaue him againe his Lute, for he carryed it when he play'd not, and being close vnder the window that hee could not be seene, but perfectly heard, he played, and so rarely as might iustly haue brought eares, and they louing eares vnto the player, but heere there did want little drawing her, who was runne before to the window, hauing heard the doore open, and her heart withall, which told her he was comming, for none else could come but themselues, or other, but her soule told who; some were with her, else shee had come downe; impatient she was, yet a little doubtfull, and therefore a little more troubled, but the rest young as she was, made the good motion to open the windowes and see who these were, she soone yelded to to that, and not only opened them, but threw them from her: vpon that noyse the Lord and his supposed seruant ap∣peared; the Duke of Wertenberge demanding pardon, the other only com∣ming so farre as to see her, who put her sel••e so cleane out of the casement as shee might easily see him, and bee sure of him, and none else descry them.

Shee then gratiously granted the Dukes demande of pardon, but on these conditions, that hee or his seruant should play againe, and sing said shee if please you. She desired but what was granted, an other Lady standing lower, and looking out of the other Casement, so much liked, and looked on Dorrileus of Wertenberge, as she was surprised with his Loue: the Lady loued not her seruant so much, as she did equall in feircenesse, or exceede in her flames, so as hee stood as but the traine to fire, and blew vp the strength of her heart with euery looke, or word hee gaue. The other amorous Duke seeing this came well on, able to play and sing allso, like a Duke help't by Art, sung these verses in manner or imitation of Saphiks.

IF a cleere fountaine still keeping a sad course, Weepe out her sorrowes in drops, which like teares fall; Maruell not if I lament my misfortune, brought to the same call.

Who thought such faire eyes could shine, and dissemble? Who thought such sweete breath could poyson loues shame? Who thought those chast eares could so be defiled? hers be the sole blame.

While loue deseru'd loue, of mine ctill she fail'd not, Foole I to loue still where mine was neglected, Yet faith, and honor, both of me claim'd it, although reiected.

Oft haue I heard her vow, neuer sweete quiet Could once possesse her while that I was else where, But words were breath then, and as breath they wasted into a lost Ayre.

So soone is loue lost, not in heart imprinted, Silly I, knew not the false power of changing, Loue I expected, yet (ah) was deceiued, more her fond ranging.

Infant Loue tyed me not to mistrust change, Vowes kept me fearelesse, yet all those were broken: Loue, faith, and friendship by her are dissolued, suffer'd vnspoken.

The young Lady was now directly lost, and so gone as she hated her pati∣ence, for not throwing her selfe out of the winddow to him. They finding this, lost not the meanes offered them, wherefore the Duke of Wertenberge mooued to her the sweetnes of the ayre, the delicasie of the place, the tem∣peratnes of the weather, the brightnes of the night, and all, and more then needed to intice her downe, so as willing of her selfe, and annimated by her companion she went with her, none else offering to stirre, but promising to attend their returne. Being come into the Garden they saluted the Duke of Wertenberg, he talking a little while with her, then falling into discourse of Musique, she turned to the youth who they said by reason of a sicknes hee lately had, was forced to keepe on his Cap, commonly for feare of cold, yet he stirred it a little before his face, she on a lesse matter might haue blinded her friend, who was already strooke blind with loue, so as she let her asso∣siate and Cousine (as she was) doe what she would, and vse her discretion, she would take her time, and no sooner did her loue turne towards her, but she tooke that turne as to her, and as powder takes fire, burnt, and flash'd

wtih hast vnto his receuing: skipping, to his looks, and words like the Iacks in Virginalls touched with the keyes; and such sudden and ready sound did she giue, answe••ing so soone, as some would haue thought they had a∣greed before of their speech, and repeated but too hastily. After some such passages, he said that they had commended his seruant so much, as he wish∣ed he could play, and sing like him, since so we••l pleasing. Alasse my Lord said she, I lik'd you best, and yet what neede you wish for more winning powers, since thus you conquer where you come? He vnderstood her, and his friends, so as he tooke her hand, & walked with her into a faire A••bour: not vnwillingly she went with him, who though a Louer, he was not so d••l∣ly constant, but in absence he could gratefie faire Ladyes whose kindnes de∣manded it, yet retaine himself firme in his choyse to loue, and to bee kind a∣gaine if she pleas'd; and thus he was the perfectest louer, who loued loue, and for loue's sake serued and saued loue from hur••, thus truely was he a true louer, reseruing still thus much for his only Mistris, as when hee was most contented with them he still thought on her, and wished her in thir place, so was he mindfull of her without exception, affectionate without measure and kind to them for her remembrance sake.

What the other two did I leaue to consideration, for to expresse two such passages would tyre you, but this I may say, they were till morning allmost together, they met the next night againe, and all were well pleased, and sigh'd no more but for parting which soone hapned, for what happy estate in loue hath any abiding? As the first night seem'd bright, and delicate, this alasse had all the clowds of dislike vpon it; That gaue not their hearts so much pleasure; as this did dolorous complaints, That had not sweete dis∣guise in it to giue testimony of loue; but this had open shew of blackest, and grieuousest sorrow; They embraced not with such greedines, as now with terror of neuer meeting more; They met not the sharpe edges of desire with more delight, then now with affectionated torment; and these alasse were their fortunes, and this their sufferings. Dorileus yet bare it like such a louer as he was, not more louing then he needs must, nor caring more then would please himselfe, nor greuing in all his life so much, or little as might hurt him, yet as one of that number he sigh'd, and said, he wished to stay still there, but his there, was euery where, if he found handsome women, and kind en∣tertainment, he remooued not, but to such like pastures, so as he but (as one might say) dined, and supped at seuerall places, but lay still at his owne home of change, a pleasant bed no question where seuerall delights embraced, and lulled his wanton appetite in the soft Cradle, or armes of variety; his friend was so much more troubled then he, by that he vsed to doe all things seri∣ously, loue seriously, grieue as seriously, and change as often, and seriously; earnest in that he was doing, and no more constant then others, and in his inconstancy none so serious. At his parting (disguises after the first night layd aside) he presented his Lady with a Sonnet of his owne, hee said, but the truth is his friend made it for him, and so was his Secretary iustly; She liked it, and admired it, after his going, singing it continually to please her selfe, it was thus.

THat which to some their wishes ends present, Is counted day, which former crosses mend, Yet night-like day my blessings do preuent, And brings that losse, whereto my mischeifs tend.

By dayes approach, alasse, that light doth end, Which is the only light of my content, And more I see, day striue her light to lend The darker am I, by sad parting rent.

Like one long kept in prison, brought to light; But for his end, condemned nere to bee Freed from his Dungeon, till that wretched hee, Conclude his liuing with his latest sight.

So now with griefe, doth day appeare to mee, And Oh! too early since we parting see.

This she sange, and euen ware it out of breath with singing, kis'd the ori∣ginall Coppy because in his owne hand, and neuer thought it neere enough, nor euer deerer was a paper to a Louer: great pitty it was not his owne worke, but as it was, it was liker a Louers present, counterfeite as his vowes, & protestatiōs, yet true beguilers of welbeleeuing womē, who were happier to be Hereticks, then such beleeuers. Thus wit, and well followed courting, gained his desires, who with his friend hauing taken leaue of the Lord, and all the house trauelled their way on in their search, till one day in a small valley betweene two little Hills, they met an old man, and and a young Dam∣sell (as she seem'd) together, he ryding on a Mule, she on a fine Palfrey, but so fine her Beast was, and so disloyall his Mule to their hast, as they both tyred, and went no faster then as he beate one, and the other for feare of that example, (a curious, at least profitable obseruation) nodded on, so as with the most melancholly, but discreet pace that Creatures, not rasionall, could vse, they came (like one against the wind) towards these Princes; who beholding them were pleased, yet troubled like courteous Knights, for their ill haps were purposed to demand of them when they met, the cause of their mischances, but in the meane time he might heare them sing, though like Swanns before their ends, for so was this end of their iourney, or ther hor∣ses ends, being they could goe no farther; the manner of their Song was as odde as their aduenture, singing Dialogue-wise as if agreed, yet contrary to the ones wishes, the Woman began, at lest to their hearings thus.

Wo. FOnd aged man, why doe you on me gaze, Knowing my answer? resolution take Follow not fondly in an vnusd Maze As if impossibilities to shake. For know I hate you still, and your poore loue Can mee as soone as Rocks to pitie moue.

Man. Alas my dearest soule, too long I knew I lou'd in vaine, your scorne I felt likewise, Your hate I saw; yet must I still pursue Your fairest sight, though you doe me despise; For loue is blind, and though I aged be, I can nor part from it, nor it from me.

Wo. What blame dost thou deserue, if thou wilt still Follow my hate, who will not breath to change, And striue to gaine as if from scorne, or ill Louing disdaine as Iuels rich, and strang: Or canst thou vainely hope thy wailing cries Can moue a pitty? no let this suffice.

Man. Piti••, alas I nere could looke to see So much good hap; yet Deere be not to cruell, Though you thus young hate aged loue in me, My loue hath youth, or you shall see loues fuell Deseruing your reward, then not denie, Let me now see those eyes kind, or I die.

Wo. These eyes of mine thou neuer shalt behold, If clouds of true disdaine may dim desire, They shall as blacke be as thy faults are bold, Demanding what's vnfit: a poore old fire Wasted like Triumphs, sparcles onely liue, And troubled rise from embers which outliue.

Man. I doe confesse a boldnesse tis in me Ought to resist, if your sweet selfe command; Yet blind me needs you must, for if I see, Mine eyes must rest on you, and gazing stand: Heauen not forbids the bacest worme her way, Hide that deare beauty, I must needs decay.

Wo. My beauty I will hide, mine eyes put out, Rather then be perplexed with thy sight, A mischiefe certaine worse is, then a doubt, Such is thy sight, thy absence my delight; Yet mine the ill, since now with thee I stay. Tyred with all misfortune cannot stray.

Man. Thy beautie hide? O no, still cruell liue To me most haplesse; dim not that bright light Which to this Earth all lights and beauties giue. Let me not cause for euer darkest night, No, no, blessed be those eyes and fairest face, Lights of my soule, and guides to all true grace.

My sweet commanderesse shall I yet obay And leaue you here alas vnguarded? shall I not then for sorrow euer stray From quiet peace, or hope, and with curst thrall Sit downe and end? yet if you say I must Here will I bide in banishment accurst: While you passe on as cruell, happy still That none else triumph may vpon mine ill.

When they had concluded, she fell into an extreame laughter, saying, we haue indeed neede to neglect, and I take the authoritie of banishing you, while our beasts are so beastly naturall, as to loue one anothers conuersation so well, as not to be willing to part, so as though tyred with your suite, and wearied with the noise of your loue, yet I must by a tired beasts fault, longer remaine to weary my selfe withall.

I know not (said hee) whether I shall thanke your beast now, or no, since against your will I haue this fauour; but I see, I may chide, and blame mine iustly, whose lasie or vnfortunate body keepes me here to offend you. I see not (said the young Duke of Wirtenberg) why you should be vncontent with beeing still together, since I neuer saw in contrarietie so much a∣greement.

Wee haue these two yeares liued thus (said the old man, and for all I see, must weare out more time in wrangling. The Lady seemd won∣drous strange, and would scarce looke on them outwardlie; yet she lea∣red vildly vnder her Hat at the smug Youth, shee thought his daintie round, pretty mouth deserued kisses; and when he spake, imagined they parted but to procure kisses, and so they did, for they kissed kindly at returne to meeting. Shee was faire, and as wanton as beautifull, and as beautif••ll as would intice most to her wantonnesse; shee was in fashion as chaste, as in minde and bodie lasciuious, and lasciuious as a wicked soule could bee in a damnable body, so as a rare example, shee was of the worst kind of an ill woman: dissembling excellent in, craftie beyond measure, false beyond expression, and what not, that might make a woman change nature with a beast: Another mans wife shee was, yet a wife, or w••rse to all men that would, hunting after them as Nimrod did after Deare, and more deare were they to her, and indeed, to many of them, when they payed for their courtesies, or ambition to meddle with such a creature, who was not onely great in birth, but as great in ill. This disguise shee had put on to trie Aduentures, not beeing any otherwaies knowne, then to bee a franke Gentlewoman: this old man she had with

her, had been her seruant, made elder by her seruice then his yeares called him vnto, and so much hers, as shee made him an instrument to bring in o∣thers to her seruice. Natious she had knowne many•• yet not so many as shee desired, wherefore she would yet trauell a little farther, and learne, though not by experience, yet familiar knowledge, her worst ends. Lord how shee smircked on the young sweet Youth, but he in whom before beliefe of fauor sprang, would yet not shew to loue if not mooued handsomly to it, so he saw it not, or regarded it not, but Clauterino more heeded her eyes, and as them his owne fickle mind, which soone thought shee was worth win∣ning to his purpose which was but for discourse, and neuer held Constancy in absence worth obseruation, wherefore hee began to complement with her.

She (rather then misse both, would take either,) acccepted of his fa∣uour, and after some busines of his intreaty, and her modest-like bashfulnes, she told her story thus: shaking her head like a bowgh in a storme of wind, or nodding like and old wife sleeping in an afternoone, licking her lips, and glaring like a Cat in the darke: Sir said she, alasse what shall I say? I am as you see a woman, but as I know an vnfortunate one; I was marryed by my owne consent, though little knowledge of my friends, to a young Gentle∣man I chose for loue, but little I found in him since, so as I feare he had only the face of Venus, but not the affections, much busines I had to get him, and great ones vsed in it for my sake, and some whom I could for all my loue to him, haue wished they would a while haue kept me, rather then giuen mee away, yet willingly for one end or other I studied to gaine, and got him, but alasse it prooued the beginning of the marryage betweene Ifis, and Inath.

He was a Youth, tis true, and not a man (for which I married him) but this was my Destiny: which finding, and the want of what I hoped for, I com∣plained, and iustly I thinke; some of my owne Sex spake loudly of mee for it•• but were it their cases, I assure my selfe they would doe as I did, but this was my ill, and heerevpon I seeing my friends (what with matching with∣out their consents, and since taking this course) leaue me. I vndertooke a iourney into Pamphilia, where it is said, there is a water, that will re∣couer all diseases, ease all griefes, especially take away all melanchollies; I chose a Troope fit for mee; but I met some few dayes, since an vnru∣ly consort, who mooued with my beauty, as they pleased to call this poore part of mee, would needs haue that, and all; but my men defen∣ded mee so well, as they left mee not but for death, and in death, so as I could not blame, but only pitie them; there remained none of them neither but this old man, who louing more then hauing reason for, vndertooke to ride with mee to the next Citie, where I meane to prouide my selfe of company; and in truth I must needs say of the poore man, hee hath carried himselfe honestlie, but foolishly loueth mee, who cannot requi••e him.

So it seemed by your Dialogue (answered the Dukes: but (said the Brunswick Duke) though you loue not him, you may in time, and by desert, like another. That is not forbid mee (said shee.)

While they were thus discoursing, came another Damsell riding fast, and looking with as much haste, who indeed needed succour. The Duke of Wirtenberg seeing her, demanded what shee so earnestly and speedi∣ly sought.

Helpe Sir (said shee) a thing wee may all want, and I at this pre∣sent stand in great neede of. What troubles you, said hee? The life of a Villaine that seekes my dishonour. How, said hee? Hee hath long sued to mee, but refused (replide the Damsell) sought to betray mee, and this day laid an Ambush for me, but with the speed of my horse and the assistance God gaue mee out of his mercie, I fled hither, more spirit then being in mee, then I could euer haue thought I should haue found in my selfe; and pray Sir euen now for honours sake assist mee, at least keepe mee from the danger of those Creatures. You are I see by your habits a Stranger heere, yet let not iustice or pitie be set as stran∣gers from you: you seeme a braue worthy Gentleman, I can appeare but a miserable creature, that I hope or beseech to gaine compassion.

Faire Damsell (said hee), guide mee to these men, and I will loose my life, or saue you. Nay Sir (said shee) that needeth not; for let mee by your fauour be safely at home, and I desire no more, nor so much as that you should meete them, or I euer see them againe.

Direct mee, and I will cond••ct you (said hee): so together they went, shee telling part of her tale to him, while the other three tooke another way to this deluding womans House, who was called Lycencia: with much pleasure the wanton Duke went with her, amorous as any loue, but at last vsed by her like an Ape fed, and knockt by her wit.

The true worthy couple held on, till they came to a Wood side, there shee told him was the danger. In the midst was her house, but betweene were the Traytors, that the nearest way to the house, but as so to perill, wherefore shee desired to goe more about.

Nay (cryd hee) neuer let vs shunne the true way, for feare or what wee see not, that harme may with selfe knowledge bee fled hence, of if not, though you may very well misdoubt my valour, hauing had no tri∣all of it; yet I dare warrant to carry you to your house, if there were more then you haue named; this you may thinke a brauery to speake, but I hope to let you see it; so they went on, shee still proceeding in her story, till comming into a part of the Wood, whence they might see, as through a walke the house, which stood though below, that Hill whereon they were, on a Hill also, and she lifting vp her eyes to see, and shew the place, first telling him, Now (said shee) I shall soone shew you my poore habitation; then looking that way, Poore indeed (cryde shee) alas my Lord I am ruined, my Castle burnes, and I chill with cold dis∣paire.

Hee looking vp, saw it true, whereupon hee was a little amazed, yet not willing to shew it to her, spake brauely, and aduisedly to goe on, which shee consented vnto, and comming nearer, they discerned onely the first Gate on fire, and the assalliants with their Master being twentie gathering fa∣go••, and other prouisions together to fire the rest. They labouring had

put of•• their Armes, onely the chiefe had his armour on; the Duke did neuer vse to loose opportunities in any sort, especially fairely offerd; wherefore hee intreated the Damsell to stay in the Wood, so as she might see what past, while he went downe to them. She obayed, and he spurring towards them, demanded, why they were so cruel to burne so delicate a place. Twere much more delicate (replyed they) if the Mistrisse were in it, and you, as faggots to burne to our triumph. That were too hot worke (said hee): but honest men, I hope you are but in iest wi••h me•• and that you seeke rather to helpe, then destroy this place. We seeke to preserue it•• Yes sure, said they (scorne∣fully laughing at him) wee desire that, and so you shall find if wee catch you medling, or ayding the Lady thereof.

If she demand aide (said hee) I cannot refuse a Lady. No, then take this, said one, and this, said another, throwing stones, cudgles, and other heauy, and vnhappy harmefull things at him, some of them lighting on him, and making him smart; hee liking not that, tooke vp a strong Pole, and feld many, but some killed. Then came their Master, and he inraged like a hunted Bull, drue his sword, reuiling the Prince, and threatning more, then after he gained though death. Dorileus braue and good, heeded not his words, but flang a∣way his Pole drawing his sword; thou art armd, said he, doubly with sin and yron; therefore my sword shall now be vsed to cut them both from thee, and thee from the world, though it scornd to shew it selfe to thy seruants•• so they fought, and to the cost of the Traytor, whose head Dorileus cut off, and pre∣sented it to the Lady, who staying behind a tree in the Wood beholding the issue, and praying for the successe.

Some of the seruants fearing when the sword glistered (ioyfully shining for her truth) fled away into the Wood, and came neere where she was, but she quickly considering her danger, staid not to discourse, but with raines let loose, ran downe towards the Combatants, the one for her welcome, presen∣ting her with the head of her enemy, which hee then cut off, and gaue vnto her, who like Tomeris of Sithia, held it by the haire, but gaue it quickly ano∣ther conclusion, for she threw it into the midst of the flaming Tower, which then as being in it selfe enemy to good, because wasting good, yet hotly desi∣ring to embrace as much ill, and so headlongly and hastily fell on it, either to grace it with the quickest and hottest kisses, or to conceale such a villanous, and treacherous head from more, and iust punishments: the fire proceeded no farther, the bodies for sweetnes sake were all throwne into it, and together there consumed, too honourable a buriall for such creatures, but thus it was. Then past they that place, and entred the Pallace, which was of Alabaster, white as it selfe can be, and pure as the Mistrisse, whose heart neuer had spot of ill, nor her body of disproportion: chaste as the Goddesse, true as truth, for she neuer lou'd but once, and so euer, milder then the sweetest calme, & swee∣ter then the sweetest Violet: constanter then that vertue, and purer then her complexion, which neuer was for excellency equald, or could be counterfei∣ted, that would not shew like it self vile, & vnworthy to presume to immitate such excellency. Free & noble was her affection, discreet & braue her conuer∣sation, excellent her discourse, & so the Duke witnessed, who after his returne related her story giuen to him by her selfe, both in words, and in one kind

in verse. Hee remained there but two nights•• going to his Companion who had bin courting the little, or neuer refusing Lady, and had conducted her by her appointment to a Castle neere at hand. Welcome, nay most welcome was this Duke vnto them, she one as a friend glading in his pre∣sence, the other as a longing and desiring louer•• good countenance she shew∣ed the Suter, but her heart, and eyes sued to the other, happy she seemed to be in his presence, and rather then to be out of it, or bard his sight, shee would indure to heare him tell of his Loues, and his being beloued, when he said a Lady had honoured him so much as to like him, to loue him, and take him as hers; could shee otherwise chuse said she in her self, would not I runne to such a fortune? When he told how kindly a Lady had granted her loue to him, would shee not rather flee to him, then refuse cryd shee? I blame her ••ot, but curse my fortune that cannot embrace him as my wishes lead mee.

When he told his owne tyes to a Lady vnimitable, beyond commenda∣tions, and expressions, faith in him only being able to come neere that worth in her; alasse, sigh'd she, this only touch'd mee, that hee loues, otherwise I might hope, but loue grounded in any place, faire, or other, carryes the power with it. Out of this discourse she was willing to put him, so as al∣though contrary to her best wishes, she put him to speake the story of the La∣dy that fetched him to her ayd, which in the same verse she deliuered to him, he thus deliuered it reading it to her, but for the perticulars they were intrusted to him, and he would not for loues sake breake a trust, but as pas∣sionatly for his Lady, as this for her loue, read the pretty Pastorall thus, in Sheapardesse names, to couer her owne ill fortune the better.

1

A Sheephard who no care did take. of ought but of his flock, Whose thoughts no pride could higher make, Then to maintaine his stock, Whose sheepe his loue was, and his care, Their good, his best delight: The Lambs his ioy, their sport his fare, His pleasure was their sight.

2

Till Loue (an enuier of mans blisse) Did turne this merry life To teares, to wishes which nere misse Incombrances with strife. For whereas he was best content, With looking on his sheepe: His time in woes, must now be spent, And broken is his sleepe.

3

Thus first his wofull change beganne, A Lamb he chanc't to misse, Which to finde out, about hee ran. Yet finds not where it is. But as he past (O fate vnkind) his ill led him that way, Whereas a willow Tree behind, A faire young Maiden lay.

4

Her bed was on the humble ground, her head vpon her hand, While sighs di'd shew, her heart was bound In Loue's vntying band. Cleere teares her cleerest eyes let fall, Vpon her Loue-borne face: Which Heauenly drops did sorrow call, proud witnes of disgrace.

5

The Shephard stay'd, and fed his eyes, no farther might he passe, But there his freedome to sight tyes, His bondage, his ioy was. His Lambe he deemes not halfe so faire, Though it were very white: And liberty he thinkes a care, Nor breath's but by her sight.

6

His former life is alter'd quite, His Sheepe feede in her eyes, Her face his feild is of delight, And flocks he doth despise. The rule of them he leaues to none, His Scrip he threw away: And many ••e forsakes for one, One, he must now obey.

7

Vnhappy man whose loosing found, What better had bin lost: Whose gaine doth spring from such a ground, Whereby he must be crost.

The worldly care he now neglects, for Cupids seruice tyes, Care only to his fond respects, where waue-like treasure lyes.

8

As this lost man still gazing stood, Amaz'd at such a sight: Imagining no heauenly food To feede on but her sight; Wishing but her beames to behold, Yet gr••iu'd he for her griefe, When mournfully he did vnfold Her woes without reliefe.

9

His new Sun rose, and rysing said, Farwell faire Willow tree, The roote of my estate decay'd, The fruit for haplesse me: What though thy branch, a signe be made, Of labour lost in loue? Thy beauty doth no sooner vade, Then those best fortunes proue.

10

My songs shall end with willow still, Thy branches I will weare: Thou wilt accompany my ill, And with me sorrow beare. True friend said she, then sigh'd, and turn'd, Leauing that restlesse place, And Sheephard, who in pas••ions burn'd lamenting his sad case.

11

Ths Maid now gone, alone he left, Still on her footsteps gaz'd, And heartlesse growne, by loue bereft of mirth, in spirit rais'd, To satisfie his restlesse thought, He after her will hye, His ruine to be sooner brought, And sooner harme to try.

12

Then thus his latest leaue he tooke, My Sheepe (said he) farwell, Let some new Shepheard to you looke Whose care may mine excell. I leaue you to your freedome now, Loues-lawes so fast me bind, As no time I can you allow, Or goe poore flock, and find

13

The Maid whom I so dearely loue, Say it was her deare sight, Which from your keepe doth me remoue, And kills my first delight. Goe you my Dog, who carefull were To guard my Sheepe from harme, Looke to them still, no care forbeare, Though loue my senses charme.

14

But you my Pipe that musick gaue, And pleasd my silent rest, Of you I company will craue, Our states now suteth best. For if that Faire no pity giue, My dying breath shall cry, Through thee the paines, wherein I liue, Whereby I breath to dye.

15

Madly he ran from ease to paine Not sicke, yet farre from well, Heart robd by two faire eyes, his gain•• Must prooue his worldly Hell. After his heart he fast doth hie, His heart to her did flie, And for a biding place did crie, Within her breast to lie.

16

She that refusd, when he her spide, Her whom he held most deare, Lie weeping by a Riuers side Beholding papers neare.

Her ruling eyes must yet be dimbd, While pearle like teares she shed, Like shadowes on a Picture limbd; At last these words she read.

17

When I vnconstant am to thee Or false doe euer proue, Let happinesse be banisht me, Nor haue least taste of loue. But this alas too soone, cryd she, Is O by thee forgot, My hopes and ioyes now murtherd be, And falsehood is my lot.

18

Too late I find what tis to trust To words, or oathes, or teares, Since they that vse them prooue vniust And colour but our feares. Poore fooles ordaind to be deceiu'd And trust to be betrayd, Scornd when our hearts are vs bereau'd Sought to, a while delayd.

19

Yet though that thou so false hast been, I still will faithfull be; And though thou thinkst to leaue no sinne, Ile make my loyalty To shine so cleare, as thy foule fault To all men shall be knowne, Thy change to thy changd heart be brought, My faith abroad be blowne.

20

This hauing said, againe she rose The papers putting by, And once againe a new way chose Striuing from griefe to fly: But as she going was along That pleasant running streame, She saw the Sallow trees among, The Shepheard Aradeame.

21

For so this wofull Lad was call'd, But when she him beheld, What witchcraft hath thee now inthral'd, And brought thee to this field? What can the cause, or reason be, That thou art hither come: Where all must tast of misery, And mirth with griefe intombe?

22

If mirth must heere intombed be, Faire Sheephardesse, said he? This place the fittest is for me, If you vse cruelty: For know I hither come, to see Your selfe, wherein now lyes My life, whose absence martir'd me, Whose sight my power tyes.

23

Giue me but leaue to liue with you, It is the life I craue: To you I bound am to be true, My life to you I gaue; When first I did behold you lye, In shade of willow tree: That time my soule did to you tye, Those eyes did murther me.

24

Is this the reason (ah cryd she?) The more I waile your case, Who thus partaker, needs will be In griefe, and in disgrace, I pitty you, but cannot ayd You, nor redresse your ill, Since ioy and paine together pay'd, Scarce satisfies the will.

25

If I doe tye you, I release The bond wherein you are, Your freedome shall not find decrease, Nor you accuse my care.

The paine I haue is all my owne, None can of it beare part, Sorrow my strength hath ouerthrowne, Disdaine hath killd my heart.

26

And Sheepheard if that you doe loue, This counsell take of me, This humor fond in time remoue, Which can but torture thee; Take it from her who too too well Can witnesse it is so: Whos•• hope seem'd Heauen, yet prou'd a Hell, And comfort chang'd to woe.

27

For I was lou'd, or so I thought, And for it lou'd againe, But soone those thoughts my ruine brought, And nourish'd all my paine, They gaue the milke that fed be'eife Till wean'd, they proued dry: Their latter nourishment was griefe, So famish't I must dye.

28

Then see your chance, I cannot change, Nor my affection turne, Disdaine which others moues to range, Makes me more constant burne, My sighs I'me sure cannot you please, My griefe no Musicke prooue, My flowing teares your passions ease, Nor woes delight your Loue.

29

If my sight haue your freedome wonn, Receiue it backe againe; So much my selfe I finde vndone, By gifts which proue no gaine. As I lament with them that loue, So true in Loue I am, And liberty wish all to proue, Whose hearts waste in this flame.

30

Yet giue me leaue (sigh'd he with teares) To liue but where you are, My woes shal waite vpon your feares, My sighs attend your care: Ile weepe when euer you shall waile, If you sigh, I will cry, When you complaine, Ile neuer faile To waile my misery.

31

I will you guard, and safely keepe From danger, and from feare, Still will I watch when you doe sleepe, And for both, sorrowes beare. Make me not free, I bondage craue, Nor seeke else but to serue, This freedome will procure my graue, These bonds my life preserue.

32

For life, and ioy, and ease, and all Alasse lyes in your hands: Then doe not cause my only fall, I ty'd am in such bands. Part hence I cannot, nor loue leaue, But heere must euer bide: Then pitty let my paine receiue, Doe not from mercy slide.

33

If that (said she) you constant are, Vnto your comming ill, Ile leaue this place, yet let all care Accompany me still: And Sheepheard liue, and happy be, Let iudgment rule your will, Seeke one whose hart from loue is free, And who your ioy may fill.

34

For I loue's bond-slaue am, and ty'd In fet••ers of Disdaine: My hopes are frozen, my Spring dry'd, My Sommer drown'd with paine:

I lou'd, and worse, I said I lou'd, Free truth my ruine brought, And so your speech the like hath mou'd and losse for gayning bought.

35

With that away she hasted fast, Left him his cares to holde, Who now to sorrow make all hast, Woes driue his hopes to fould: Now he can see, and weeping say His fortune blind he finds, A heart to harbour his decay, A state which mischeife binds.

39

This now he feeles, and wofully His birth, and life he blames, Yet passions rules, when reasons lye in darke, or quenched flames: That place he first beheld her in, his byding he doth make: The Tree his liberty did win, He cals his Martyr stake.

37

And pleasingly doth take his fall, his griefe accoumpts delight: Freedome, and ioy this bitter thrall, His food her absent sight. In contraryes his pleasures be, While mourning giues him ease, His Tombe shall be that haplesse Tree, Where sorow did him ceaze.

38

And thus did liue, though daily dy'd, The Sheephard Arideame, Whose causlesse teares which neuer dry'd were turnd into a streame, Himselfe the head, his eyes the spring Which f••d that Riuer cleere, Which to true harts this good doth bring When they approch it neere,

39

And drinke of it, to banish quite All fickell thoughts of change, But still in one choyce to delight, And neuer thinke to range: Of this sweete water I did drinke, Which did such faith infuse, As since to change, I cannot thinke, Loue will death sooner chuse.

She that was before wonne, what wrought this in her, seeing loue, seeking loue, expression moouing admmiration, and that so much as to admire him in her choyce at first sight, so well to chuse, but the truest worke, or weft of her Loome was to doe, which was to winne him, winne shee would, and at last as nothing, or very little is hard to purchase in a mans breast a kind pitty or rewarding loue, as if but exchanging, and the latter part of that their marchandize. She compassed her desires like her selfe the worst way, for she made the poore louing Cauterino be the meanes to his losse; vrging very much and earnestly, shee replied that if hee loued so much as hee said, hee should expresse it by bringing Dorileus to speake with her, framing the cause to be concerning a Sister of hers in the house whom she said was farre gone in loue with him.

Hee gladdest of this, that thus hee might serue her seuerall wayes, went straite to his friend, and most friendly brought him vnto her, into a Garden appointed for it, going away as kindly as shee wished, leauing them toge∣ther, who then priuate, she began.

My Lord said she, you may well taxe me of boldnes, but impudence I be∣seech you cleere me off, since Loue the powrefull god of hearts commands mee to this adventure, in which yet I blush, least you should otherwise iudge of me, then of feruent affection, which hath stirred this vnusuall manner, contrary to a womans modesty in seeking you; but my Lord my loue is so violent to you, as that blinds me to any course but this, which is to beg pitty of you, and compassion for my paine.

The hardest heart could hardly denye such a request, much lesse his, which was neuer in that kind cruell; wherefore he went the neerest way to content her, granting her request, and appointing that night to waite vpon her, what a busines shee kept then? her Chamber was so perfumed, and sweetely furnished, her selfe so delicate to entertaine, as when hee came hee thought it a braue Iourney, and dainty conquest of himselfe, for shee wooed, and he had now the labour saued of Courting, louing, and all other trou∣bles, but yeelding, which is easie on such conditions for the best of that Sexe to doe. The night is come, and hee prepared went to his Mistris; the other amorous Duke being extremely molested with his passion, could not sleepe, but vexed with doubt and loue, rose from his bed, and

went to his friends chamber to discourse, and so ease his burdned burning breast, but thither arriued, he found only a light burning, his Page asleepe in the chayre at the beds feete, and the Duke absent; this strake him into a iealous passion, as thinking none so worthy as his Mistris, none so likely there. fore to be serued, and so concluded none other then this wrong to him.

Then he complained against his friend for breach of friendship, since hee knew how much he loued, but straite came this againe, that that tye with∣out breach might be broken, for loue cannot be resisted, and none can com∣mand that power, so as force, not will, did heere offend; but all women for this tricke he reuiled, and cursed himselfe for being the meanes, and helpe for thus betraying him, making him the instrument (as in scorne) for her sa∣tisfaction in loue, and contempt.

This being entred into his thought, he ran into the Garden, meaning to goe to her Chamber, find them and reuenge himselfe with rayling at her, but the doores which went to that way were shut, so as he cal'd to her, scoul∣ded as no man euer did like him in that kind, and many women, (though most are perfect in that lowd faculty) could not equall him, few surpasse him. No answere being made him, he threw stones at the windowes, beate downe the glasse and made such a coyle, as would haue distemper'd any but louers, on all sides to haue heard it. But they would not be mooued for all his bawlings, nor he long indure this lonely, but violent roring passion, so as he returned with as much fury, and shame, as Vulcan did when he saw his Riuall Mars: Much this nights worke stuck in his stomacke, but what re∣medy? patience got a little roome, and she (as he after said) gaue him all sa∣tisfaction so as he gayning too, and then commanded to silence, he had his desire euery way satisfied also, cousening him who had bin before hand with him, and thought he had her to himselfe, while she laughed at both to see them so finely dealt with all, and she hauing full content; but here they must not now stay, so as telling her they must goe in search of the Emperor, shee gaind one day more of them which they granted. The night before the morning for their parting, hauing at seuerall howres taken leaue of them, both they in their lodgings should haue beene surprized, and made priso∣ne••s, by men let into their chābers armed, but they valorous, neuer sleeping though they were in bed, quickly rose, and brauely defended themselues, scaped their hands, and arming themselues, came out of their chamber to seeke the Deuill, and head of this action•• but she (hearing how the busi∣nes went) with her old wicked companion were fled.

They followed in search of them, so as now in two Quests they trauelled, till they met an noble, and braue Lady, to whom telling their fortunes, shee assured them of the wickednes of that woman, being the most notorious for ill, of any of her Sex, & how that in her flight with her old Squire, she met a man equall to her, (if two such peeces could be squared to equall propor∣tion in ill,) who hauing beene trecherous, and beyond mischeif's skill abu∣sed by her, finding the aduantage, tooke her from her old Guard, tyed him to a Tree fast for helping himselfe, where he starued, and dyed, being but within two dayes found, and for her, he carryed her to the top of a mighty, steepe, and craggy Rocke, there tooke his wicked reuenge of her, for thence he threw her downe, but as she fell louing all mankind, she held him so fast as

he went vnwillingly with her, breaking their necks, and so past the same way of vnfortunate end, yet fittest for ill so to go together. This was seene by some, who tooke vp the bodies too late to be helped, but hee being knowne to them, the cause was soone knowne to vs, who had vnderstood both their li••es, and could but hardly sorrow for their ends, onely in that they were Christians. This heard, and hauiug past a little time with this noble Lady, they tooke their leaues, taking their way to their owne Countries, hauing search'd, but in vaine, for their Lord, return'd; they lamented for him, and re∣mained in soules afflicted. The Prince of Venice is the next to be spoken of, who hauing done as his other companions did, at last met with the Duke of Sauoy, and the Duke of Florence, all sad, distress'd, and beyond measure grieu'd; yet some kinde of ioy or touch of it they felt in meeting each other: then seeing all hope lost, they resolu'd together to returne into their Coun∣t••ies perpetually to mourne and lament their losse, giuing ouer Armes, Tra∣uells and all, liuing sad and retyr'd liues, wayling that, they and all Christi∣ans were bereaued of, which was happines; now seeing, feeling, tast••ng no∣thing but distresse: to the Sea they tooke, and shipping themselues, hoysed saile for Italy, cursing Asia, and all in it saue the poore afflicted Pamphilia, whom they left in all desperate sorrow; for hauing miss'd finding of him, they return'd to her Court, and with vnspeakable griefe found her possest; with sorrowfull and lamentable demeanours they parted from her, wordes they had but few, but teares, sighes, and groanes in full plenty; now spake they one to another, but scarcely till they had beene some two dayes at Sea, their eyes only acting speeches part, and assuring each other of their true loues to their Prince and themselues. At Sea the Florentine saw a Ship lying neere the Greeke shore, as at Anchor, many men and some women vp∣on the hatches; drawing neerer, they might discerne mourners, and among all, none armed: ah (said he) that company surely are of our as••otiates, their liuery tels them at least so to be. Their outsides indeed, said the Venetian, counterfeits our inward griefe. The Sauoyan looking stedfastly on them, said, he was of their opinion, and the rather because he thought he saw Sela∣rinus among them; they then haled to her, which shee answer'd, and as they were sending some to her to know the new••s•• they perceiued a Squire to put out the loug Boat and make towards them; they then attended his comming: now did the winde rise, (a calme hauing been before) and the waues begin to swell, answering the boyling in th••ir br••sts. The Squire could but bee at their ship when it was so rough, as without perishing he could not board her, especially being vnder sayle as she was; so as he only cal'd to them, who said, his Lord Selarinus desir'd to know if they were of Asia, and if they knew how Pamphilia did, if rescued, and by whom. They could not answer more, then that she was set free by Amphilanthus, but now he was lost, as with grief for the remembrance of him, and the word lost, so filling them, and partly for the noyse the Sailors made, and for the distance that the Boate was by the tempest in that time carryed from them. The Ship likewise was growne a Traitor to them, and their gouernours, taking new Commanders, the winde and the Sea, yet they contending ma••ea rough dispute and d••stempered go∣uernment, so as soone they lost sight of Selarinus, Greece, Italy and all being carried into the Bri••tain Sea; long they roamed at Hul, for aduice or Art now

helped not till the storme so soone ceased as it had begun, and they percei∣ued for their comforts, (as beauty is comfortable to all good eyes) the faire Rocks of Brittany, anciently called Albion; but by happinesse after many misfortunes againe called Brittany. The windes and Seas appeased, they landed neere a Cliffe of infinite height and danger if not knowne: when they were a shore and arm'd, two purposed to trauell and alter their names, but the third ouerrul'd them, and by any meanes would not consent to goe, but as their owne selues, and in their owne persons, not seeking to hide the noblenesse of their search and truth of their duties. At the place where they landed they got horses to the next Towne, which was twelue miles off, ac∣cording to the reckoning of that Countrey: then came they to a very faire Towne, large, but not any way curiously built, though the houses were of stone, but they low and ill couer'd made them seeme poore. There were women of maruellous beauty; for Brittany had the name to haue the fairest Creatures in her of all women, and that part the honor to haue the fairest of Brittany; many they saw as they past by, but as variety they pass'd them, gazing as on wonders; but a wonder it had beene to haue staid them, whose thoughts flew on still to the finding the happines of their Masters recouery, beauty was not now the Shrine they offer'd to, yet at other times that would willingly haue stay'd them, now loue & affection were two things, or one so mix'd, as no other thing, or part could enter, but the finding of Amphilan∣thus, to bee either, and so both. On in the Country they pass'd till they came to a Desart that prou'd onely rich in Ayre, and that in greatest bounty, in few places it was inhabited, the rest all Desart, and as wilde as any ci∣uill Country could bee. Many places, they passed, stony, wooddy, rocky, and as odde as could bee, lamentable trauelling in it, the people rude and churlish, so as with much dif••iculty, but to them good fortune, they happened on a Noblemans house: antiquity they saw in all things there, in house, age of furniture, of seruants, building, and situation, which was such, as cer∣tainly were not, nor could bee vnder hundreds of yeares; the Master of the house was not there then, trauel'd vpon occasion into another Countrey, but the Mistris there, and shee the most ignorant proud woman liuing, ca∣ring for, nor respecting any but her selfe and hers, as rude and ill manner'd a company, and as vaine as her selfe were about her, though much opiniona∣ted to bee well-bahaued creatures, and so they seem'd to bee bred no other then such which were of her owne being, and who could haue that o••∣ly way of good fashion, as shee said, to bee admir'd, and to all other eyes the worst of fashions. Of her blood, she had some who equal'd, nay excee∣ded her, so as shee may be excused thus, that shee woman-like had ambiti∣on to bee chiefe of her blood, which shee said was the best, and would ra∣ther excell in ill, then not be the most excelling: neglect she did all people but her chosen assotiats, so as one might iustly say they were strangers that came to her house; for none were familiar with her but her priuate (& somtime too foolishly exprest•• humours. The friends her husband best lou'd in his ab∣sence were vs'd like others, it may bee sometimes sooner had the ill fortune to s•••• her proud person, els no more priuiledged•• when in his presence, shee would like his Dogge fawne on him, and them: then there came thither a wondrous braue Lady, who was a Kins-woman of her La: to whom as

much respect as shee could let slide from her selfe was vsed, and who yet loo∣ked for as much as either, or both had, nay as well could haue been exprest to such like Ladies, and neere of bloud to all vanity and proud folly. These Ladies the Princes met one field from the house, by good fortune to them, els they might haue stayed for admittance longer then their haste would per∣mit them; sad they were and penfiue, proud they were and insolent, the Knights did them Princely respect, they gaue vnmanerly acceptance, with much humble maner they presented themselues to them, they fleering one on the other most rudely entertain'd them, looking on them carelessly, as who would say, wee honour you with this, but who would rather doe well, would doe otherwise. The Florentine was haughty, and where hee found neglect hee could repay it, els most noble; but not knowing the nature of the Brittaines, was so discreete as not to bee rash, therefore hee rather to beare then prouoke ill entertainment, spake with his hat in his hand, in this manner. Wee are Trauellers and strangers; yet more strangers to the sight of such beauty, as till this instant I neuer did behold; and which doth so a∣maze mee with content, as I am rapt into the cloudes of pleasure, not being able to expresse your excellencies but by my infinite admiration; beholding you like so many Sunnes contented to distribute your equall beames to let vs be the abler to behold you: heere I see the excellentest excellency of the rarest perfections; excuse them most excellent Ladies, if my Companions, or my selfe haue ouerslip'd any due respect vnto you, since the fault wholly lies in your ouer-ruling powers, and we must excuse our selues by that fault, if you close vp all powers in amazement, you must pardon the amazed, and if you show beauties beyond expression or ability to be suffer'd, no more then flames can be to a naked person: how should one, especially my stroo∣ken selfe, be able to doe what I am call'd vnto by respect vnto such diuine soules? Hide your conquering beauties, and then our great weaknesses will get some strength to speake, if but in a maner of admiration; but so short of your deserts, as I shall still remaine a poore, and an ashamed speaker for my selfe and companions, who cannot speake thus much for themselues as I do. The Ladies left him in his speech, and taking handes walked away, as who would say, by that time the Oration is done, wee will come againe, smiling on themselues and their vnciuilnesse. The other two Princes laugh'd at the Florentine, who was so angry and ashamed, as hee (being very black) look'd betweene fury and blushing like a Night-piece: what to doe he could not resolue; but the other two did for him, which was to goe to the Towne and rest them till the next day morning, and so proceed in their iourney, in this vncomfortable Country where their first entertainment was so strange.

When they came to the Inne, there they found a second or rather a per∣fect Hell, there were Knights and Squires, but all fellowes, and most fellow-like drunke: some were singing, some dancing, some quarrelling, others fidling, some calling for more drinke, in which they all like the burthen of a Song agreed, and called more. These Princes fell into this second mis∣aduenture, the first had too little curtesie, this as farre exceeding in too much aboundance; for euery one had a seuerall humour, and they must indure them all: but an aduantage they had in this kinde, though to their losse of sleepe, for they being well on their way before their comming, a ve∣ry

little more satisfied them, and sent them to rest, some to bed, some vnder the tables, some on benches, one in the Garden on a Lauender bed, while the Princes againe tooke their horses and rid some miles further, and in the Desart in a most poore (but for quiet, rich) house, they spent the rest of the night, the next day taking their way towards the Court, where then liu'd the King, but they not destined to see so much happines met this Aduen∣ture.

Passing along a most craggy and stony Lane, they came at the end of it, to a tripartite diuided way, a stone in the mid'st, and the way so iustly parted, as it made them imagine it was a place fit to bee accepted and to part them∣selues equally to take their offer'd fauours: Vpon the stone they laid their hands, sware there within three Moneths to meete againe, without strange accidents befell them, to declare their losse, and search to all, their names neuer to conceale, and so at the conclusion, to returne euery one to his owne Countrey, to lament their Lord and friend. It was the Florentines fortune to encounter the first aduenture, which was, after hee had rid in that stony way sometime, hee came to a large Commune, spreading it selfe broader still vnto his sight, as comming out of a Riuer, the Sea appeares boundlesse: So did this Land extend it selfe, hauing no bound to comprehend, or limit sight; sheepe there were in aboundance, and some Cattle, people hee saw none, so as it appear'd there was little danger of losing them, or that the trust was great in those parts.

At last a Countreyman hee met driuing a Cart which had carried wood, (a commodity in those parts) of him hee demanded what that place was, and the name of that part of the Countrey. Hee replyed, the place hee was on was called the Forrest Champion, that part of Brittany being full of For∣rests and Chaces, anciently called the deserts of Brittany; a little way from thence hee told him was a faire house, where a noble Knight and his Lady liued within a part of the same Forrest, which they had inclosed, and made like an orderly ciuill place, from the others wildnesse, and shut themselues within a Pale; woods were within this place, the rest all Heath and Rocks, scarce a Bush, but no tree that could shelter one from a small shower.

The Prince desired to be directed to that place, which the honest man did, waiting on him till hee came within sight of it; now Sir, said hee, you cannot loose your way, except you will of purpose; so hee tooke leaue of him, who arriu'd within a short time there; the Knight had at that time much company with him, and one Lady who in her younger time had the fame for one of the fairest, (if not the fairest) of that Countrey. But Loue (the Ruiner of beauty when curst had decayed her beames of outward perf••∣ction, though her inside by the vertue of constancie shined the cleerer. Black had her fortunes beene•• so were her habits, sad her face••, and her counte∣nance not heauy, but graue: the Knight was a braue Gentleman, for his in∣ward parts learned and honest, but lame by blowes in his youth when hee trauel'd, as hee had in most parts of Christendome; his Lady a young wo∣man, cheerefull and pleasant, the daughter of a great Lord, and Sister to as fine a Gentleman as was in that Kingdome: but the Prince most marked the sad Lady, of whom hee enquired, after some complements and a little

acquaintance of the Knight, who would needs stay the Prince there that night, the Lady went away, hauing not aboue some sixe or seauen miles to ride to her fathers.

After her going, there came to the same place a Knight, not a youth, nor a stayed man, forward in speech, and so valiant and bountifull of it, as he would (where euer hee came) haue all the talke; some being angry at him for it, who thought they could speake as well, and it may be better, but hee carried it with his boldnesse, and vnlesse any would fight with him hee would doe so still. Some laugh'd at him, and said hee rung such peales of discourse, as were sufficient to bee reckoned among those rung for triumph, or ioyes for Nuptialls; others pittied him, as fearing it a disease, or Palsie in his tongue, but all admir'd hee held out so long with matter, vnlesse hee had as strange a faculty in his braines of perpetuall working, and so made that motion in his tongue to rid her burthen. The Prince much wondred at him, thinking hee was led thither to see the Prince of contrarieties, the first Lady as sil••nt, as he talkatiue, the others in a reasonable good meane like himselfe, thinking them both strange; at last, as the round of this most discoursing Knights thoughts, came to the height, hee began to speake of the Lady. Did you euer, said hee, see a sweet Lady so much changed as shee is? I knew her, ••nd so did you, a faire, dainty, sweet woman, noble and freely disposed, a de∣licate Courtier, curious in her habites, danced, rid, did all things fit for a Court, as well as any braue Lady could doe? what can change her thus? they say shee is in loue: would that man were hang'd would suffer such sweetnesse to decay by his curstnesse: but I thinke and belieue it is so; for I haue made loue to her my selfe, and shee refused mee, who neuer before heard the word of deniall. I offer'd her Horses, though shee wanted good ones at that time, yet shee would not take mine, nor presents from any for feare of offending him, who presented her with nothing but scorne. I made Verses to her, said them to her, who commended them faintly, and instead of thanks, said some of his to mee, as to let me see, that as hee was most deare to her; so was all that hee did or belonged to him. I haue a Brother was in my case for her loue, but more grieu'd; for she vsd him scarce ciuilly, mee shee euer did respectiuely, and that wrought so much with mee, as I hate the woman hee loues, and is the cause of her trouble for her sake; but for mine owne part, I can beare her denying mee well, by reason I can loue as often as I see cause, and stay no longer on it; nor staid hee there, but with this last word tooke his leaue, onely saying, hee would follow the Lady, if but to v••xe her, as easily hee might doe, or any other discreet person, if h••e continued his talking trauell, which was more wearisome then trauell it selfe to a quiet Spirit.

When hee was gone, the Roome was like a calme after a storme, or as af∣ter foule weather the Ayre is silent, and sweet: so all being quiet, they pleas'd themselues as Birds in the Spring, wi••h their owne tunes: but then did the Florentine desire to heare more of the Lady, which the Knight with much respect to him, and honour for her, d••liuerd thus. Noble Prince, said hee, if I goe about to tell you her Story, I must vndertake to tell you the most vnfortunate, of the most deseruing woman that euer was, and venter to relate a businesse which I shall bee vnable to deliuer to her worth, or t••e

excellency of the matter; but this I may say for her, shee was the vertuou∣sest and fairest Maide in this Kingdome, the vnfortunateliest married, and vnhappiest wife this Countrey had, the most desolate and grieued Widdow; for in all estates that euer shee was in, if shee had a shew of good, shee had substances of ill and mischiefe to succeed. In her youth, or (indeed) infancy, shee loued a braue Knight, who deseru'd all loue and respect: but yet hee had a fault, as most men haue. I was his companion, and knew as much of him for some time as any did; yet that was a secret, and I neuer (intruth) mi∣strusted it, till I was gone into a retyr'd life, and a change growne among vs all, being diuided seuerall wayes, and scattered like Hayle: Shee call••d to the Court, continued her begun loue, hee fell in loue with her, and so much as hee raged almost with passion till hee discouer'd it, being for a while (as hee vowed himselfe neere madnes; but as passions are hot, and in youth more flaming, then afterwards mature iudgement will permit, hee grew slacker, shee grieu'd, lost her content, and yet thinking to please him, as that being her onely end, refrain'd (fearing as seeing his dislike and scorne to her) his presence, hoping to content him with giuing liberty to his new choyce.

This, whether offending, or (as hee tooke the matter) making it seeme an offence, shee lost his loue; and not onely that, but hee made it appeare that hee loath'd her: Shee (sweet Creature) whose heart to him, was but as the softest part of his to his new Mistris, so grieuously tooke this curst hap, as shee melted into griefe, as Virgins waxe with the heate of fire will into water, and yet thereby the coldnesse of that Element grow hard, as frozen by coldnesse: So was shee clos'd in cold despaire; yet not hardened, but with that, not with hate, or dislike, suffering as patiently, as a dead body permits handling, by any rude standers by; shee onely felt paine of loue, and into that was metamorphosed. All delights shee cast from her, all exerci∣ses left, couer'd her misfortune with the losse of her Husband, when as, if her loue had continued true, shee had in the other losse beene happy; but as it fell out, a most vnhappy creature shee was, and is. An ancient Lord, old in age and antiquity of honour, made loue vnto her; shee was not only per∣plex'd with him, but with her friends and Parents, hee being infinitely rich; but shee finding that her heart (as shee cal'd him, and as that was subiect to him cal'd it selfe his) would not consent, shee refus'd, and with great ioy that hee lou'd her so well, as hee could not thinke of imparting her to any other, though sure enough, that hee could not hold her long, Death being gaping for him.

After she denied men of all sorts for age, and fortune, who durst take the boldnesse to sue to her; Lately a young Duke of this Countrey made pro∣fer of Loue to her, but shee not willing to entertaine him, would not be∣leeue hee meant it, and so perswaded him out of it; yet he lookes after her, followes her when hee may, meets her where hee can haue opportunity, smiles on her, seekes to please her in all he may, and in some things doth, for he neuer speakes to her (but by lookes) of Loue; his company she allowes of out of noblenesse, and out of true loue will not heare of his loue.

An ancient Lord also, and a mighty rich man for estate, (but in yeares) seekes her, shee will not vnderstand it; He sends to her, inuites her to his

dwellings, Shee finds still excuses, and neglects ciuilly. Hee vowes to finde her out, and court her. She flyes, and takes iourneys vnthought on to shun him, and al this is for loue, that so she flyes Loue, willing to warme her hands at the fire of honour, but dares not come neere the loue-fire for feare of scorching, while shee burnes in her owne flames; neuer any more belou'd woman breath'd, nor euer will or can breath so true a louing woman. What hath shee left vnexprest to manifest her affection in all kindes? life shee hath ventur'd, honour lost, beauty and all happinesse dead, while shee growes old in her truth of loue, and hath but that for her owne satisfaction to content her selfe withall, and that is riches vnspeakable, when in her owne soule shee can say, I am iust; yet suffer for it, as if a fault, what is then a vertue, when such perfections are errors? One pretty tale shee now, as you came, told me, her still beloued friend came into her company by Aduenture, hauing with him a deare companion of his, newly growne into that league of friendship, and brought by him into the same with all his friends. This Gentleman, seeing her discreet, grew into discourse with her, she louing all that loued her; lou'd, euen his Mistris for his sake, was well pleas'd with his conuersation, and so ne••re they grew, as he spake freely to her, and she coufidently to him: so much she saw in him, as she knew he knew most of her fortune; she grud∣ged not his knowledge, for a nobler man breathes not, as shee sayes, except her owne friend, and hee must before her haue no Competitor nam'd, for worth or any goodnesse, though shee suffer for his ill, so excellent hee yet appeares to her. But this braue Gentleman at last with fr••edome began to perswade her to leaue her constancie, which would but hurt her, and conti∣nue no other way••s true then truely to say shee had lou'd longer, and iustlier then hee: but seeing no returne nor hope, no longer to bee a slaue, when she might be•• free, nor to him who deseru'd so ill from her, as if shee lou'd ill so well as to bee bound to it; yet did hee neuer name his friend, though by discourse said, he knew him, euer protesting to name none in such kindes. Shee only answerd this, that so much she lou'd and honour'd truth, as shee desir'd shee might liue in that (if a fault) and grow old with such a vertue, whose worthines would giue her youth, and eternity in comfort, and honor to the world, her wrincles by truth would bee closed, and shee seeme as faire as euer; her palenesse and losse of complexion restor'd by the rarenesse of such a vertue; and her Age, as by Medeas charmes turn'd to infancy in the cleerenesse and ablenesse of such worth. Hee lamented her misfortune, shee smil'd to heare him so much mistake, and told him 'twas her perfection: this is the error, said he, of women, and yet not generally doe they erre in this kinde; so as I may only say of a woman, and of one of the best, and there∣fore the more to be pittied. The Florentine did naturally loue strange things, and such as could hardly be compass'd, wherefore hee had a great desire to see this Lady againe, and to court her, and so resolu'd to trye his fortune, ha∣uing as he thought, as much boldnesse and winning power as any man. To helpe him on, the same talking Knight came againe the next day, being the most absolute endlesse Visitor in Brittany; he confidently promis'd to bring him thither where she was, and to p••t them together, and then said he if thou dost win her, thou hast better luck th••n all the br••••e bold Brittaines haue yet attaind vnto. This familiarity seem'd ••d, yet the Florentine had his end also,

and bore with his (as he heard it in his language) rudenes; so they tooke their leaues of the lame Knight, and went the neerest way to her abiding; but be∣fore they arriu'd there, the Florentine had so much of his companions tongu, as he would haue giuen a great part of his hopes to haue been rid of him. At the last they came to the Castle, shee was not at home, but rid forth to take the Ayre; they being Knights neuer were out of the way; so they follow'd her and found her sitting in a great wood reading some papers, which were Verses her loue (in the time of his affection to her) had made, and giuen vn∣to her: she read them, wept, kiss'd them, wrapt them vp, put them into her brest, to print the stampe on the outside, as they were ingrauen in the inside, sigh'd, wiped her eyes, and yet some bold teares had kiss'd her quaking lips, ready, but affraid to part, & say he was vniust; for the very vniustnes matyr'd her, and the saltnesse of those drops made her taste her curst fortune. They approach'd, she changing her countenance and now almost ashamed to seem so good, he prouing so contrary, whom she thought the best, almost doubt∣ing if it were not ill to bee good among so many ill, and such as contemned goodnes; yet bold in her selfe, arm'd with the rarest vertue, and knowing that enough to iustifie her, and defend her, she met them; they with reuerence fit to giue and to be taken by her, saluted her, then the euerlasting Speaker, who neuer ceased talking, no more then Brookes on Pebbles leaue murmur∣ring, told her the desire they had to kisse her hands. Shee said they had much honour'd her with that visit; the Florentiue with delicate language spake, she with much modesty and respectiue fashion entertain'd him: much he ad∣mir••d her graue and yet courteous manner, the eloqnence she spake such, as made him thinke she was the best spoken woman he had euer heard, and the great••st part of h••r eloquence was the plainnes, but excellently well plac'd words she deliuerd, her speech was as rare and winning, as the Knight trou∣blesome, and most times idle; yet such he esteem'd his wit, and the continu∣ance of his babling was so vsuall, as he could not hold, but interrupted them, and fell into his old fit of gabling. The afflicted Lady look'd sadly on him; but when she saw how grieuously the Prince tooke his interrupting of them, she smil'd, and to her selfe said; would my paines could bee thus partaken, then would my suffering be the lesse; but oh, none are fit to know mine but my selfe, none then to suffer them. The Florentine he chaf'd so much, as hee could not frame with patience any one thought, but with a confusion of dis∣like•• stood gazing on him, who talk'd on, and regarded, or not, said Verses, spake Prose, and rime againe, no more heeding answers (so hee heard him∣selfe) then i•• he had rau'd or talk'd in his sleepe: Yet at last there was no r••∣medie but shee must heare some lines the Knight lately made in commenda∣tions of his Mistresses eyes, and blaming her being sleepy in the mor∣ning, when shee should haue beene vp to entertaine him; the Verses we••e these.

Rise, rise from sluggishnes, ••ly fast my Deere, The early Larke preuents the rising lights: The Sunne is risen, and shines in the rights Of his bright glory, till your eyes appeare.

Arise, and make your two Sunnes so cleare show, As he for shame his beames call backe againe, And drowne them in the Sea for sorrowes paine, That you, Commandresse of the light may know,

The dutie Sunne, and all must yeeld to you Where richnesse of desert doth lie imbracd, Night by your brightnes wholly now defac'd, And Day alone left to you as lights due.

Yet be as waighty still in loue to me, Presse me with loue, rather then lightly flie My passions like to women, made to tie Of purpose to vnloose, and oft be free.

Thus may your lightnesse shewing ruine me, I cannot liue if your affections dye, Or leaue off liuing in my constancy Be light and heauy too, so wee agree.

These I protest before God (said he) I made at the instant, when I saw shee was not vp, nor reddy, and many more I made to her, and others, on the sud∣den. I seldome thinke of them, but naturally they come vnto me; many of my Ancestors hath been Poets, and so I succeed in that qualitie, and I like it well, it passes away the time well, and some of my songs I haue set, and song them. But when he talked of singing, the Florentine was then ready to die, for halfe dead hee was with the noise of speakiug, singing added to it would vtterly haue ruined him, so as he was forced to say, My Lord, we came hither to vi∣sit this excellent Lady, and short time I haue to enioy the happinesse of her sight; let vs therefore I beseech you, gaine so much fauour, and honour from her, as to heare her say some thing of her selfe. It is well said, cryd he, and since the Prince desires to heare your story, I pray let him haue it. I haue not (answered she) ready, or perfect deliuery of speech so well as you; there∣fore if it please you, especially of the Prince, I desire to be excused, since I can onely when I haue said all, but conclude, I am as you see me, the most vnhap∣pie, vnfortunate, miserable, lost woman, that can be found breathing. Then did the teares againe fall from her eyes, but so louely she appeared in sorrow, as it was almost equall in sweetnesse, and winning, to ioy, and as powerfull in command, for it fully conquered the Florantine, neuer after being cured but by death, liuing many yeares, and louing constantlie to his death, a rare, and seldome knowne thing among men, of his ranke especial∣lie.

Night now grew on, so as they tooke their leaues; faine the Prince would haue staid, but she neuer, or wōdrous seldom inuited any, though if they cāe and staid, she did welcome braue, or needing men; two tortures were he now ••allen into, parting frō her, & going with him, whose noise would make him mad, his heart being oppest with melancholly, & but iustly was he punisht for aspiring euer till that time to loue, and win this, he saw the Emperour loued;

as if being his seruant, he were bound to like as he liked, and loue as he loued, which did not please his Master, nor got him much gaine, if not where no gaine was by winning. Once more he must see her, and rather then misse his desire, he perswaded his silent companion to accompany him, which he did, and taking Hounds with them, as if both to visit, and shew pleasure, they tooke their iourney. They came where she lay, and with much adoe got her abroad, who rid daintily, and which qualitie did more (if more could be) in∣tice, and inflame the braue Prince, who still attended her; she as little, as hee infinitely fond, still accompanied her, who finding it, meant to put him, be∣side his ordinary Knightly pace, and if he would be with her, take paines like a good honest Forrester; wearier he had been with this chase, which was of a Stagge, then of three dayes trauell, but she was there, as his heart told him, fainting would neuer win such a spirit; so hee spurred on, and she rid from him; at last the Stagge fell, and so the hunting ceased with the death mote. Home they al ••eturnd, and with much glory and losse, glory for victory, losse of hearts: backe to the Knights house the Companions went, whence the next morning the Prince of Florence was called by an Aduenture of some ioy, an Esquire came vnto him, who had been in many Countries to seeke him, and by meere chance cast vpon this shoare as they were, was informed that three braue Knights were there lately arriued, being in the West part of the Country of Brittany, by their description they seemed to bee some of those he sought, and so finding him, was much comforted with hope of the others. He was sent from the Duke of Burgundy, whose good hap it was to goe the right way, and find the Emperour after some time, and much tra∣uell; this gaue great content to the Prince, yet grieued he was to part out of Brittany, but necessitie did compell him, so as away he went, taking his leaue of the Knight, who was most kind, and freely noble, leauing him in trust to doe a friends part in remembring his seruice to the Lady. With the Squire he posted with as much speed, as that Country would giue him leaue, taking first to the place, where his two Companions parted from him. There arri∣ued (as hee did) at that instant, but vnarmed, and all in Willow colour; the Prince of Venice, who had fallen on this Aduenture, riding downe the way allotted him, he came at the end of three dayes trauell to the side of a most delicate and sweet Riuer, being indeed one of the best of Brittany; at that place there was a passage to crosse to the other side, hee tooke boate there, and landing, came into very rich grounds, but not much pleasant, that soyle being rather for profit then pleasure; but passing that, he found a most delec∣table Country, being a Forrest, and the daintiest of all those parts, seeming rather an exact piece of curiositie, then an habitation for wild Beasts, woods, plaines, corne grounds, and delicate Springs, many braue dwellings, and faire and fine houses in abundance, so as they seemd as the Banquetting-houses to so many excellent Gardens: the Woods were not great, but pleasant, euery field as it were fringd, and laced about with trees.

The Prince rode on, much in admiration of this place, following a prettie Brooke, which with the sweete murmuring and pleasing passing inuited him to follow him, as if by louing whispers hee had intreated him, he vnderstood it so, and so rid beholding him with as much kindnes, till at last hee brought him into a faire Meddow, there hee grew as if angrie,

he had not said some thing in his commendations, to swell and grow high with spite, but calme still, and faire, and well might he be so, for close by on the banke lay such a Shepheardesse as Vrania was, and that is sufficient ex∣pression for her perfections, her Hooke and Scrip lay by her, her bright and delicate haire looked like straw in the Sunne, when his glistering beames shine on it, and that receiues, and payes equall lusture: yet shee to grace the straw more (or fearing her parcialitie should bee by the Sunne corrected for wearing other beames then his, or else punished for being neere equall) had to defend his blowes a Hat of that matter, on her more radient rayes, shun∣ning the Sunnes hot kisses, or enuious touches. She was tying flowers toge∣ther, the rest lying in her Lap, and she picking out those she best liked, cas••ing some others into the Riuer, which smild in thanks to her for those fauours. As she thus playd, so did her Sheepe and Lambs by her: as free in ioy, as shee was from loue, or any such vexation: full were her eyes, and full of comman∣ding power, her forehead was most couered with her Hat, as in pity for feare of murdring with the clearenesse, and azure veined purenesse, yet her smoth cheekes, plumpe soft lipps, and delicate fine chin, shewed a field of conquest, where still they held the victory, her hands bare (making vp her Nosegay) said by their vnmatched whitenesse, that they were to be adored, not put to vse, vnlesse to cherish hearts, their softnesse knowing no hard worke, could no•• be cruell, but gentle to wounds, by themselues especially giuen. Were not here allurements sufficient to draw the Venecians heart to seruitude? certainely farre lesse would haue had power to melt the most iron breast of any Italian, whose hearts are all apt enough to loue, but here his admiration staid his loue to wonder, yet wonder brought at last resolution to loue, and goe vnto her, had not he a little been interrupted by the comming of a Lady towards the Shepheardesse.

This Lady came, as it seemd, from an house on the top of a Hill, which wel might thither, and many miles further he discride, a Grome some halfe a mile below it on the descent of the Hill, out of which she did seeme imme∣diately to come. She came alone accompanied onely with a Booke to the Riuers side, but on the contrary side of them, and chearefully (affection glo∣riously shining in her eyes) saluted the Shepheardesse, who instantly arose, and with as kind and louing lookes answered her salutations. The Lady said, that the water was now prooued to be as dull an Element, as the earth which ioyned with her here in heauy thwartnesse to hold them asunder, ignorant of such spirit, as loue had in their hearts in desire of meeting. Here is a Bridge (said the Shepheardesse) if you will venture. I am ill at such a businesse, said the Lady, and you little better, we may both fall in.

With that the Prince drew neare, and offerd his seruice to them: they ac∣cepted it, and he pulling off his Gauntlet, tooke the Lady by the hand, and safely led her ouer; then did the two (louer-like) women kisse, and em∣brace each other: when their owne passions were a little satisfied, then they both thanked the Knight, desiring to know what accident brought him thi∣ther, especially armed, where little Armes was required, or vsed; blessed Peace, the comfort of soules, hauing only gouernment in that place. He said, he was a strāger, & but lately ariued in those parts, being the Prince of Venice, by chance cast on the Brittan shore, whence he came, he had bin much out of

fashion if he had not been in Armes, and being so, you are as much out here, said they, and therein is our happinesse. Haue you no Knights Aduenturers in this Countrie, said he? Knights we haue (said th•• Lady) good store, and aduentures; but they seldome are put together, our Knights leauing the ad∣uenturing part, vnlesse out of necessitie, none louing a happy, and worthy peace better, and none abler, or brauer in warre, when occasion calleth on them: but if you will trie aduentures, here are many in this place, seuerall Inchantments, and diuers hard waies to attempt them; Charmes are here in abundance also. So it appeares, saith he, for you doe carry charmes enough about you to ouerthrow Armies of hearts, then making so many yeeld, how can you be but in peace, when none dare warre against such powers. Wee are armed with strong resolutions, said the Shepheardesse, and defended by our owne vertue, so as wee feare no enemy, if not lurking in our owne breasts, which yet haue not appeared, I am certaine haue not had the boldnesse to ad∣uenture in my sight. How free you are (said the Lady) while I that liue in the same State, am yet enuironed with enemies: I had the same subiect-like free∣dome which you had, yet I haue yeelded to another Prince, and in that am a Traytor; for alas I haue another Monarchy ruling in me, then the true one of this Country. This is a strange confession, said the Shepheardesse: but for Loues sake, how long hath it gouerned, and what is it? The same Lord, in whose name you coniure me. How, cryed the Shepheardesse? why dearest Lady, can your incomparable wit, matchlesse spirit, vnparalleld iudgement, vnspeakable discretion, vnusuall knowledge, pearelesse learning, and most ad∣mirable vertue yeeld to the poore, meane, wayward, foolish and weakest pas∣sion; you that haue conquered hearts, and millions of them, while you haue gloried in your owne strength and power, rightly to be made an example to all your sexe for constant worth and worthy confidence, will you fall lower then my companions, poore and weak Shepheardesses, let your spirit awake, and open your eies to vertue, it is she calls vpon you. It is shee shall rule me, said the Lady; for none but a vertuous loue will I take, or yeeld vnto, and in such is vertue requisite to be called to counsel. You will all flatter your selues said the Shepheardesse, and Loue that blind Deuill which deludes you, brin∣ging you on, as men doe children by Plums, to haue them doe as they de∣sire; so this false God will abuse you with his crafty delusions, he will make all faults shew as faire, and rich as Diamonds; but the richest of them taken inwardly, are poyson; hee will paint ouer his worst cousenages with vertue to intice you; but won, hee will appeare in other colours: hee will guild his bitterest pills with golden promises, rich hopes, and all falshoods, and when; You haue said your worst, replied the Lady, and wee considered all, I must loue, and so I hope shall you deare friend, if but for loues honours sake, since an enemies gaining is more honour, then the conquest of hundreds of vs that are profest his enemies. A goodly profession certainely (said she), and a great purchase you haue yet to enrich your selfe withall, who had lately the richest stocke, and treasure of true, noble, and vertuous freedome. The Lady tooke her in her armes, and smiling kissed her, Chide me not dearest Celina, I can∣not helpe nor alter my fortunes, run not on the errour that I can withstand the power, commands from Kings to your companions; for who are (vnlesse your selfe) free; what man euer liued, that loued not, or woman breathed,

who had not some affection; not your selfe but loue, if but this life; I loue where I may gaine happinesse, and the truest end for which we are, and to which I hope you will come: then Oh doe not you afflict me with blaming me, my loue to you shall be no lesse, but rather more, since the better I know how to loue, the better, I shall loue you. A fine and rare conclusion truly, said Celina, and iust louer-like to deceiue your selfe; in troth Loue hath played her part well in so short a time to instruct you thus perfectly: but if you par∣don your louing, I can scarce doe so for your cursing me, since wishing me to be a louer is a flat curse; pardon me thus you may (said ••ossilea), since I wish you as my selfe. With that the Prince, who was taken with the Shepheardes∣ses loue, came in to part the louing, yet for loue disputing friends, little nee∣ded any peace-maker betweene them, whose affections to each other were so twined in vnion, as could not be vnwouen by any workeman but death, yet he louing and pleading for loue, they all sat downe ioyntly louers, he louing her, the Lady her Seruant, the Shepheardesse her liberty. The Prince then look∣ing on her, who so much scorned lone: and speaking to the other subiect of affection, entreated hee might be so bold, as to beseech the fauour of her, to know who she was, and the manner of her loue, she answered, she would not deny that request, but tell her story with so much truth and passion, as shee could, hoping by it to win the Shepheardesse to bee her fellow in seruice, as her chosen friend in loue. You must vse strange eloquence (said she) to per∣swade me to such a seruitude; but if euer I fall into it, it will be to keepe you company, yet dearely should I buy such a friendship.

As they were thus going about to relate their stories, the Shepheardesse started vp, saying, she saw her sheepe disturbed, and frighted at something by the banke, as they were going to drinke; shee ran thither, and looking to see what it was, found a man drowned, as she thought; she with that cried out, and the other two came hastily to her, and altogether helping her, lifted him vp, no sooner had she (faire and louing Lady) seene his face, but she forgot the delicatenesse of her greene Veluet Gowne, the richnesse of her faire car∣nation, imbrodred peticote, her white shooes, and rich laced shooties, all was cast aside, and he being laid on the banke, she laid her selfe in the wet, and on the ground by him, rubd his pale face, wept, cryd for helpe, did all that a friend, a seruant, but most a louer could doe for his recouering.

Elina saw the care her friend had of him, & with what affection she sought his sauing, she thought it charytie, she liked the vert••e, she seemed to lament with her as her friend, she counte••feited not, but in truth sorry, yet at first she immitated Rossalea, first knew not alasse how to greiue, but so she played till it was so perfectly counterfeited, as she acted beyond that part, and in ear∣nest greiued; palenes heere wonne more then beauty, that to her was the greatest beauty, wannes and dead lookes, more then chearefull colour, cold lips more then warme liuing ones, heate yet in them to burne her: shee who could not like a liuing Prince, or any man, falles in loue with a dead man; can such fire rise out of ashes if not kindlied by loue the truest fyre; she who hated loue, loues in the most miserable sort, she who contemned af∣fection, affects an image of a man; nay, she who chid her friend for this fault, as she calls it, falls into a greater, and more to be disliked, for she doth not on∣ly loue, but loues hopelesly, not only a man, but a stranger, and not but which

was aboue all a man fittest to be for his worth beloued, but her friends cho∣sen loue•• here is loue iust in powre and punishment: Now may Rossalea not only blame her friend but her selfe, for had she not instructed her, and wisht her captiuity she had neuer thought of it, had shee not commended loue shee had still continued an enemy vnto it, but had shee not so passionat∣ly loued, and shewed the way by her affectionate and deare expression, shee had not knowne how to entertaine those flames, or practise the vse of them.

Now Rossalea sigh's, rubs his temples, layes her lips to his as if to feele if he breathed. C••lina doth so also, but when she toucheth his lips shee finds a new paine, and yet she stayes on them, and thinkes, nay sweares, Loue was a fine powre, and that she infinitly offended while she did not loue, and then vowes if life come againe to him she will loue him, and needs must I said she, for if in death he be thus louely and winning, how rare will hee be in life? then shee considers he may be the man, her friend loues, seeing her vnusuall griefe for him, and care of him; frendship then comes in, but loue preuailes, and to giue her due punishment deluds her as she before told, and described the truth of loues falshood, and in the same kind she had told Rossalea he vsed her, thus she falleth into the snare she perswaded her to auoyd, being fedde with hope by this blinding spirit, that this might be the much admired bro∣ther of that Lady, but hope had not heere so setled a ground, but that some other of loues followers came in also; iealousie appeares in yellow mantles drest against Rossaleas kissing him: why, said she••, if hee bee her brother doth she so af••ectionatly kisse and imbrace him, with such deerenes as I doe who loue him; and if her loue, why should shee doe this before mee who so much affect him? Or why should shee bee so vnkind to her friend, to manifest her passions before my face to vexe me; at last so full of raging loue she was, as shee would scarce let the Lady touch him, who poore woman could hardly doe it, griefe so abounding in her, and what ease shee had was only that she saw she should want nothing, Celina her friend being so care∣full of him, this care she imputed to loue, loue indeed it was, but not as shee tooke it to her only, but meerely to him, here did that little, though great conquerour play a master prize; the poore Venetian stroue as much by way of helping as either, and at last searching about him, found a wound in his left side, whereout issued into his cloathes much blood, the wound hee stop∣ped and bound neatly vp, then with the continuall rubbing him, and throw∣ing water in his face, he came a litle againe to himselfe, breathed, and in a smal space looked vp, and seeing his life in his Mistresse before him, stroue to ex∣presse his ioyes, what could shee doe, weepe and wash his face with her teares, holding each other in their armes twined like bowes wee call twins; one dying, the other but a little flourishing, hee weake, and his armes though shaking, yet withall her affections power held her, shee louing as much as hee, with her armes incircled him, and withall tendernes and loue closed him in her breast; Celina embraced both, louing both as their kinds were; in excesse on the other side the Venetian held all three, so as the foure made in their crosse embracements a true louers knot, and so it was on some parts; poore Celina, I pitty thee, but what helpe can be found for thee? alasse none, insolent thou wert to loue; scornfully, peeuishly reviling him,

and now but deseruedly thou art p••ined, and he iustly reuenged: this is scarce the enterance, what will be the successe? paine, torment, losse, afflic∣tion, mourning, lamenting, pining, nay, dying, and this will be the conclusi∣on; wofull profits, but such as reuengefull loue allotteth thee; let neuer wo∣man (especially hereafter) be so bold to contest, nay contemne so powref••ll a godhead; when this small remainder of life had a little stayed, and gained some other poore addition to it, the Lady with all lo••e and care entreated Elina to call some boy of hers (as some she had to looke to her flocks) a••d send him to her house for her Coach to carry him thither, she called a lad but loath she was to goe on the message, both for going f••om him, and by that meanes to haue him carryed from her; but the Venetian tooke his horse, and being directed by them to the safest foord, rode to the house and speedi∣ly with the Coach returned, bringing a bed in it the easelier to carry him without shaking, or opening his wounds, the faire sheepheardesse mourned much at this parting; but one must suffer, and now it is her part and time; being come to the house, Chirurgions are presently sent for, and soone brought, for a great Citty was not far off; life was then assured him, but a long time they thought it would be before he recouered, so much blood he had lost, and the long lying in the water had hurt the wound and would hold it something longer from healing, mother neuer was so tender of a child, as Rossalea of her loue; the Venetian as ready as a frend to expresse care, yet was he amorous, and in the morning after he had seene the Gentleman had taken rest, he walked forth to find his heart houering about the body of the Sheepherdesse, passing downe the walke which went to the Groue, he heard not far from him, two discoursing earnestly, the one as repenting, the other threat••ing; he ha••kened, though scorning that trick if vpon any occasion but profit to his friend, wherein he was most iust and obseruant, this besides leading him by their owne inducing speeches on, saying did I consent to so detestable a fact led by thy wickednesse. Oh Framin••us, that not only thy selfe may curse, but I already find the hellish tortures for it, my soule boyles and burns in the flames of my offence, yet thou wickedly sayest thou hast but reuenged thy selfe, and done but right in that, my breast swells with sor∣row, and I pine in dispaire of pardon, a religious poore thing said hee thou art, and as re••igion tyes me I must not suffer thee too long to languish; then did he with a Dagger in many places stabb him, the youth (for so the Prince after saw him to bee) patiently, yet sadly taking his ende, commit∣ting himselfe to God and admonishing the other to thinke, to whom hee had committed himselfe, and his last hopes. With that the Venetian cal∣led Leurenius, step in, and not after the ordinary way taking the hurt body, but the hurter he caught, and vsing these words held him. Villaine, said he, thus to murther one, whose all and least drop of bloud being staind by thee should so haue beene cheerish'd: What canst thou then say in thy defence, or on thy part, to excuse this cruelty? this youth is not onely sl••ine by thee but tyed to suffer the slaughter hauing no defence for himself, not on∣ly so but as your speeches argue made ill and guilty of bloud, this but anni∣mated and imboldned him hauing no more order or bounds then the Sea hath in a storme on rotten and yeelding ground: wicked soule what canst thou say to answere thy wickednes? better then you replyed hee, this bold

and sawcy inquisition; who authorized you in this examination? who made you inquisitor or iudge? truth and pitty said Leurenius: neither euer ruled or had power in mee said Vicianus; I am Lord of my selfe, and much good lands hereabout, I owe now nothing to any, I did, and was indebted to the great keeper of the Forrest, whose command greater then mine I c••uld not suffer, but after many contentions and controuersies betweene vs, he not the man that would submit or yeeld, I layd a plot for reuenge, that being my re∣fuge, and yesterday finding my aduantage tooke it, and now am satisfied, for his life I haue, and now am free, this creature being my only Counsellor, who hurt dangero••sly by him, who intruth was valiant and had many good parts, yet drowned them all in the brooke of dislike to my orders which were not to be corrected by him, I so ordered him as wee two I say had his life, and least that should come out, I haue now made away with him, so will I doe with you (for in such bussinesses I loue no Counsell-keepers, with that he let flye at him with a waighty club of Iron, but Leureneus was nimble, and well vsed to escape such perrils, so as slipping aside he auoyded it, but withal stept in like a younger brother to possession, & closing with him threw him downe; then possest he himselfe with his armes, and forced him to tell him he had done this ill, he confest it was done by treasons compact, more hee would not say, but by chance watching opportunity, catched the Princes dagger and would haue stabbed him, but he quickly preuented it, and made the actor better act his part, shunning the blow, and catching him vnproui∣ded, for resistance armed only with mischeife got the dagger from him, and throwing him downe on his knees, made him acknowledge his fault, and make his confession; the cheife Forrester is a great Lord and infinitely pow∣erfull in loue of friends and people, but most inricht with the affection of the Lady of the Forrest whom I affected, and who had by the Lords ap∣poyntment, that honour done to her, that title being giuen her, which mad∣ded me as much as her refusing me, which proudly she had done, yet sought I not so much reuenge of her, as of her seruant, and our Forrest Lord, her affection I hop'd to winne by loue or force, he gone whom she affected, and to be rid of him I resolued, and yesterday I dispatched it. This youth, my then in shew cherisht-Lad, slew him with an arrow as hee alone rid to see his walke, and to bee suer of him when wounded, I threw him into the Brooke, where if any seeke they may find him; his wound is on the left side, the instrumē•• a Bow, the weapon abroad arrow, so as now if I dye I haue this satisfaction, he goes, and is gone before me. You are said the Prince, much deceiued in this, for though hurt, he liues, and to recouer wee make no question, but to assure you of it, you shall goe with me, and from him, and his deerest only beloued receiue your punishment. Backe hee led him by force, and deliuered him vnto them, he was by the Officers of that part the Lord being a party hauing no power to punish him) sent vnto the Citty into a sharpe prison, whence hee was conducted to such punishment as the Iudges, and Officers appointed for him. Leurenius againe going downe to∣wards the Meddowes to find his heart which in Celinus breast he saw crauing loue, or pitty, she lying on the ground, carelesse of order, or modesty, all∣most distracted, and lying in the most disordered Posture that could be, for so discreet and curious a woman, tumbling on the ground, clapping her breast,

sobbing, weeping, crying, all passionate ioyned to her masterie: one while she tore her haire, and thrust her face, as it were, into the ground, another time she rated her passions by sufferance, and so challenged reward: then she confe••t the reasons, and so recald her claime; then she blamd her folly, but quickly commended her loue: thus by contrarieties she gained respit, but not ease from her paines, flying like downe in the ayre; miserable bondage, and most so, because to a late free heart. O seruitude insufferable, and slauery not to bee endured. Wretched Celina, cryd shee, that haue these vnmeasured thoughts, and want of power to expresse them but in patience, some lines she put together, but so few, as could make no kind of verse, not hauing proporti∣on, or number: these indeed, said she, are fit for my making, vnmeasurable thoughts leaue me, as hope & help abandons me. Then she again vexed to the soule rold on the grasse, and with her teares to the earth, and on it, Receiue me deare Mother, said she, into thee, and let me be as I am, once againe with thee. The Prince was grieued to see his soule, which in her was thus per∣plext, he cryd against his ill, lamented as for her, and in as much distresse as a∣ny that euer loued, he gouerned vnder the weight of his affliction; he heard her complaine of vnfortunate loue, he said he might as iustly doe so to: she said it was strangly fatall to loue so violently at first sight: He shrug'd, and said it was his fate; no complaints she would make that he had not the same cause to dislike, for no payne was in her that hee was not a patient of, yet strong it was, the paines one, the accident one, and cause one, they were by two equall sufferings made diuers, and seuerall. She complayn'd shee could not measure her passions. He, that he could not please her by putting them in measur'd feete, yet to passe the time, hauing a fine voyce, and skill fit for a Prince, he sung this Songe.

1

HAue I lost my liberty, And my selfe, and all, for thee O Loue? Yet wilt thou no fauour giue In my losse thy blame will liue; Alas remoue.

2

Pitie claimes a iust reward, But proud thoughts are thy best guard Once smile: Glory tis to saue a life When deceiuers are in strife Which to beguile.

3

Your gai••e hath my paine begot, But neglect doth proue my lot, O turne, Say it was some other harme, And not your still sought for Charme Did make me burne.

4

Thus may you all blame recall, Sauing me from ruins thrall Then loue Pitie me, Ile no more say You to cruelty did sway, But loyall proue.

5

Else be sure your tricks Ile blaze, And your triumph Castle raze Take heed, Conquerours cannot remaine Longer then mens hearts they gaine, Worse will you speed.

6

You a King set vp by loue, Traytors soone may you remoue From by, Take this counsell serue loues will And seeke not a heart to kill, Least both doe cry.

She heard him, and liked neither, his tune nor words, her heart another was flying, or staying but to flie further, as taking breath for a longer iour∣ney. He looked towards her, she from him, he went as to her, she rose and walked towards the Groue; he followed and sigh'd, she went on, and was deafe to his sorrow; he cried to her, she was silent, and answered not, as not taking his words to her. He ouertooke her, and with teares told her his paine; she was sorry for him, and could be so, her owne being so great. Hee said her sight had killed him: she answered, he liued yet (and she hoped should) to be cured of that wound.

He said, none but she could cure him. She replide, shee was an ill Chirur∣gion, else she would not be vncured. Alas, said he, pity me. O pitie, said she, haue compassion on me. It is you deere Shepheardesse (sigh he) can and must pitie me. Pitie, said she, hath so little acquaintance with mee, as I cannot in∣uite her to me, how then shall I spare so much to you? Your first sight (said he) murdred mee. Alas that first sight, said she, should hurt vs both; it is my case, and certainely this is but a charitable paines you take, to helpe me to dis∣couer my paine, which is so intollerable, and past remedie, as both with our best (and I thinke addition of) wits cannot relate or discouer.

I but saw you, and my heart was made subiect to you. I but saw him, and I was his slaue, cryd shee. Would I were that He, said he. So would not I,

said she, for then I should not haue this pleasure in grieuing nor tormenting you. Why, hate you me because I loue you? No, answered she, but because I am reiected; I loue to see others tortured I will suffer all tortures, crid he, so you will at last commiserate my woe. I shall in a generall kind, said she; for I shall lament, mourne, and feele my torment, such as I shall pitie all that smart, and so may pity you, but with no more fauour, then a priuat man may take a Kings thanks, when thousands crie, God saue him. Will you permit me to liue, and serue you here, said he. I neede no defendants, said shee, and for seruants I haue those sitter for my command then you can bee: but Sir let not falshood, or beguiling hopes abuse you, this is no life for you, this no place for your abiding, be your selfe, and fruitlesly follow not what you shall neuer gaine, proceede in your profession, and as armed against enemies, arme your selfe against this fond affection, I wish you well, but am vnable to aide you, my heart is disposed of, you a braue Knight may better fit your selfe with a deseruing, and gallant Lady; I wish you all good fortune, but that now you seeke, and as a friend aduise you to leaue this sute endlesse, and gainelesse.

With that she came to a Gate which opened into a fine Groue, she had the key, and opening it, went in; yet at the entring turnd, and with a sigh, a scornefull looke to him, and a slight curtesie bad him farre-well, shutting the doore after her. He (as in that Country they haue a Phrase) returned with a cold fire to warme himselfe, if not with his owne flames; yet straight hee went not thence, but a while looked after her, when hee perceiued her cast her selfe on the ground at the roote of a Hauthorne, speaking to her self, but the words he directly heard not, at last shee sang with a sad voice, a song the delicate Rossalea had once made, she being perfect in Poetry, it was but finish∣ed, when an other Shepheardesse came to her, as sad, and grieued as she was, no difference, but that the former had the greater, and curster spirit; this as much, but milder, and softer; she wept, and had done so long, this distressed Maid did so too, at last they came nearer to speake, and thus they discour∣sed.

What accident, said Celina, hath brought you hither? Sadnesse and mis∣chance said the other. What procured them, said the first? Loue, cryd the second, the Lord of hearts, and of yours too I hope, and so should seeme by your lookes. Mine eies and lookes are but true to my heart, said Celina. If they tell you so, they are but the glasses which I see my selfe in, said the other drawne to misery. We are all picturd in that piece, said she, a large cloth, and full of much worke. While they were in this discourse, a third came singing a song merrily, and carelesly of either being heard, or the power of loue, it was this,

LOue growne proud with victory, Seekes by sleights to conquer me, Painted showes he thinks can bind His commands in womens mind. Loue but glories in fond louing, I most ioy in not remouing.

Loue a word, a looke, a smile, In these shapes can some beguile, But he some new way must proue To make me a vassell loue. Loue but &c.

Loue must all his shadowes leaue Or himselfe he will deceiue, Who loues not the perfect skie, More then clouds that wanton ••lie. Loue but &c.

Loue, yet thus thou maist me win, If thy staidnesse would begin Then like friends w'would kindly meete When thou proou'st as true as sweete Loue then glory in thy louing And Ile ioy in my remouing.

Finely sung (said Celina), but it is an idle subiect you sang of, because tis loue (said shee), because it is not louing, said the other. Louing (cryd the new come Lasse) then I would sweare 'twere idle indeed: why sweet Celina (said shee) I hope you are none of those poore Vassels, his baby Kingdome consists of; I am one, if you call his royall gouernment such, and I thinke one of his truest seruants. Now in troth I lament your mischance (said she) it is a fortune I would not wish mine enemy: yet your friend, said Celina, is fallen into it: then pitie her, and pray for her I thinke, I were best (said shee) for sure all his subiects are in miserable case. I am in it aboue helpe, or hope of returning; then, said she, both we see nothing is impossible. I reioyce in your company smilingly, said the first come Lasse, and I lament for you both cryed the last: And I thanke you both, said Celina, and for you I hope ere long by such an occasion, or some worse, you may fall into my for∣tune.

The Prince seeing all the three thus free in discourse, intreated, that hee might be admitted, Celina was perswaded by them, and so they cald him in: then began they againe to talk, at last they went to prety playes, as chusing of Kings and Queenes; the lot fell on Celina, who commanded the Venetian to stay no longer in those parts, but to goe vnto his friends, and in witnesse of his captiuitie, to trauell vnarmd, till he met them, or was forced by iniurie to put them on. This was more then sport, yet hee obayed, and hauing li∣berty to take his leaue of the Lady, hee kissed her hand, and departed. The last Shepheardesse that so reuiled loue, being called Lemnia sigh'd at this par∣ting, louing good cōpany, or him who had gaind f••ō her a more kind conceit, then she had had formerly of mankind, as if the spring to the summer of her loue, which increased by a strange heat, growing in absence to the height of flaming, as if the fire of loue were so vniuersal, as the warmth like that of the Sun, would heat worlds at a time: so his force seru'd in absence to scorch, nay burne her heart. Shee looked after him as long as shee could see him, and

marking his louing lookes backe cast, and sad on Celina, she liked, pittied and lou'd his manner, so him, and at last stole in to be a louer before shee was a∣ware; a crafty Ladd this Cupid is, poore creatures how you are beguiled by him. Celina, and Derina had enough now to please themselues, and vexe her withall, yet sometimes, and often the latter part fell to them, while she pleased her selfe with her passions; these three now soundly captiue might daunce the trickes of Loue to the tune of Sorrow. Celina loues one whose heart and soule was her friends. Lemnia a Prince stranger, and louing Celina. Derina a braue youth, but married to the Forrest Lo••ds Sister, poore soules, and the poorest, louing thus hopelessely; All they could doe in their best humours, was to lament absence, in the curstest, and worst to raile at Loue, and their misfortune, curse sight, hearing, beleeuing, and all that were assistants, instruments, or sufferers to these passions; but the Vene∣tian hauing (as the rest had at first done) sworne to obey what euer he was commanded, went with sad steps vp the Hill, his heart falling faster into despaire, then his feet ascended.

When he came into the Garden hee met the Lady, who told him some were with her Lord about businesse, therefore intreated him to stay, hee o∣beyed her, and being loth to haue his ill known, which might be imputed to folly in him, to auoyd her question, intreated to heare her story, which thus shee related.

My name (said shee) is Belizia, daughter to the Earle Marshall of this Countrey, neere allied I am to the greatest of this Land, but onely tyed to this Forrest Lord, for whose sake, I haue forsaken all, and liue heere a lonely life with him; much my friends, and Kindred were displeased withall, his meanes being small, t••ough his honour and worth great, which I looked on, & loued and so to them gaue my heart, and had not this misfortue hap∣ned, the celebration of my gift had beene perform'd to our onely ioyes this next weeke, but now must be deferrd, though I trust to be one day happy for all this misery; neuer man hath beene so louing, nor so constant; nor if I may speake for my selfe, neuer any woman hath beene so firme and passionate, none yet so secret; for many yeares I loued before I acknow∣ledged it, nay, before any thought I could thinke on such a flame, yet when discouer'd, some remembred I had beene a good friend to his pretty god∣head, neuer suffering him to be abused when my power could helpe his ho∣nours defence.

One of his Sist••rs was the first mistrusted me, and telling me of it, I de∣nied it, but so blushingly, and faintly, as that was a perfect confession. She loued me so well, as she was glad of it, being sure to haue a perpetuall tye on me by this meanes, which though shee might haue assured her selfe of bee∣fore, yet Louers loue strictest tyes to bind their loued to them; so much in∣deed wee loued, as but the faire Celina I affected her onely, and best of woman kinde.

The ill man you tooke yesterday, my friends had rather haue bestowed me on, but he was contrary to my heart to like, would so I had been to his, then had not my deere beene wounded, nor hee come to so vntimely an end, for this last night (before his time for execution, by the Lawe appointed) hee strangled himselfe in the Prison, hauing nothing but his garters to execute

his wicked enterprise: withall when this Story was thus telling, one came vnto the Lady, to let her know, that many Ladies were come to visit her, shee then, though vnwillingly, tooke leaue of the Venetian, whose good, and faire behauiour gaue content where euer he did come, but he said, hee was compell'd by necessity, so hee tooke his way, first taking leaue of the Lord, his Squire carrying his Armes, he not being to weare any, while hee was in Brittany, by his cruell Loues command.

Hee trauelled till he came to London, admiring the brauery, and sumptu∣ousnesse of the Citty, but most of the Court, arriuing iust against a migh∣ty tryumph was to be made in honour of the King, and some strange Princes who came of purpose to honour themselues, with kissing his hands. No∣bly, and courteously was hee receiued at the Court, much was hee pe••∣plexed with passion, much pittied by all, and as much hee was troubled, that hee was barred from exercising himselfe in those sports, which by reason of his promise to Celina hee could not doe, not being able to weare armes while he was in Brittany, if not for defence, yet at the Ring he ranne, and did it so finely, as the King and all admir'd him; heere hee stayed the conclusion of the tryumphs, then remembring his friends, and oath, he took his leaue, taking towards that place where he arriued, iust as the Florentine did, but when he saw Leurenius in a Court Suit of Willow colour Sattin embrodered with Gold, his Armour trust vp, & carried on a Horse after him, What Metamorphosis is here, cry'd he? Is this Leurenius the braue Venetian Prince, and my friend? While I was worthy, I was so, but now am nothing, reply'd he, but sorrow and despaire. What is the cause said he, & what makes you trauell contrary to our vow, vnarm'd••? Ouercome (cryd hee) by the power not equallable of a Shepherdesse, and by her command to leaue this Countrey, and to trauell vnarmed till I met with you, hauing heard my sto∣ry, and my former ill fortune, she added this to me the worst of ills.

Brittany, said the Duke of Florence, hath beene counted the most plea∣sant, delightfull, and happiest Countrey in the world, being for all bounty of contents a world it selfe, nothing missing or wanting to the full plenty of happinesse. Yes said Leurenius, pitty wants in the heart of Celina, and in a Lady whom I met, sigh'd the Florentine, and who hath tyed me as fast as you are in the bonds of Loue, but not of slauery, for you are a little to far gone, but Leurenius here is good newes, the Emperor is found, and we must straight repaire vnto him, Celina to be thus causlesly cruell alas, but is the Emperour found? and you vtterly lost, cryd his friend I feare: feare not deare friend, (said he) she will not yeeld, her heart made of these Rocks cannot be pierced, her soule hath no compassion, nor will heare more to pitty, then fire will by s••pplication when it is ruining the rarest buildings, then feare not I shall goe with you; but said the Florentine you are much alter'd in your speech, your discourse differs, nor is so certaine. All is in mee vncertaine, but my loue, that is fixt cry'd hee, I am Loue, I loue, and will loue. His friend b••held him with infinite griefe, cursing the accident that parted them, on the ground hee cast himselfe, a banke by chance being there greene, and cleane, rouled on it, wept, and groueling on the ground, wiped his face againe with it, thus, thus, cryed hee, would I haue done at Court, cursing the order that held me from it; my heart swelled with bea∣ring

my paines, and all the honours done me were but corsiues to my soule, shee, she Celina hauing banished me. Leaue these vain passions said his friend. I must leaue my selfe first cryed he. I loue deare friend, and if you could loue so, you would not wonder at mee but enuy my happinesse in being such an one. Such an one, cryed hee, God forbid, I loue, and this Countrey I may thanke for it also: this charming Countrey; for no better, shee is fil'd with inchaunting beauties fram'd to tye, and ruine men: reuile not this blessed Realme, the flower of peace, beauty, honour, vertue, happinesse, and most of Shepheardesses. I loue this Countrey, and I loue, did not the valiant Her∣cules loue? Yes, said the other, and spin almost as wise a web as you goe about to doe, certainly (deare friend) I shall in my extremity gaine helpe by seeing your affliction; but man what thinke you of the Emperour? God blesse him, said Leurenius, and make Celina knde, els I dye. His companion was discreet and louing, so he vrg'd him no further, but made the Squire tell the story of the Emperour, as his Master the Duke of Burgundy had related it to him, and commanded him to deliuer it to the Princes, and as hee found any of them to send them still home. When that vnfortunate hunting was past, wherein Amphilanthus was lost, the Queene distrest, and all the Princes scatter'd, the Emperour hauing got his armes, followed in search of Pamphi∣lia, who was (as he by a villaine was inform'd) stollen away by Theeues, in the wood, hotly pursuing the quest, rage and reuenge boyling in his brest, hee hapned on a strange place for thicknesse and obscurenesse; yet the vn∣daunted and louing Prince proceeded till he found a Crowne of stones, of infinite and huge bignesse; weary with trauell, he allighted, and thinking to rest, tyde his horse to one of those stones, no sooner was it done, but a terrible, fierce and mighty boare, issued out of the wood, running mainly at Amphilanthus, but he thinking to shun the encounter, and take aduantage of the Beast, in his passing, the Horse vnruly at the sight of him, did his best likewise, striking at him, but missing him, the Boare with his tuske strake the Horse into the body, so he died. The Emperour troubled as well for the loue hee bore the horse, as for his want and danger hee remain'd in with this cruell beast, watch'd opportuni••y, with vow of reuenge, and so as the Boare ran at him, hee step'd aside, and nimbly skipping in againe, thrust him to the heart before he could turne. This was no sooner done, but many men arm'd set vpon him, he valiantly, like himselfe, defended his honour and life, one young man vnarm'd, but aboue all most harming him, and pressing more then the rest vpon him, he slew, the rest all at the instant vanish'd, and with a blow giuen that was on the head, which cut him to the eyes, a voyce cryed, Fare∣well Amphilanthus; the voyce he knew, and presently in stead of that young man, hee saw to his thinking Pamphilia slaine, and by his hand; hee threw himselfe on the ground, striuing to helpe her, but shee was carried into a stone which lay in the middest of the Crowne, by whom hee could not see: but how did he labour to hold her backe or keepe her with him, who liuing neuer sought, but to be with him, nor now left him, deceipt onely abusing him by this inchauntment; intreat, pull, all would not serue, stronger powers had h••r, as hee beleeued, and made her inocently offend, and part from him shee intirely and loyally lou••d, and from whom she neuer slid: in∣to the stone shee was carried, vp hee then rose, with his sword striking

at the stone, as to hew it asunder, and take her out, but his sword stuck there∣in: wilt thou leaue mee too said he? then his armour he pul'd off which with the blowes those inchanted men strake was much hacked, and blood thrown of purpose, as if shed by him vpon it (when hee was vnarm'd he laid the pie∣ces on the stone, vowing that should be his monument, being the richest, her heart inclosing him, and there would he dye, a Ring of iron hee then saw, which pulling hard, opened the stone; there did hee perceiue perfectly with∣in it Pamphilia dead, lying within an arch, her breast open and in it his name made, in little flames burning like pretty lamps which made the letters, as if set round with diamonds, and so cleare it was, as hee distinctly saw the let∣ters ingrauen at the bottome in Characters of bloud; he ran to take her vp, & try how to vncharme her, but he was instantly throwne out of the Caue in a trance, and being come againe to himselfe, resoluing to dye, or to release her since he found her loyalty, he saw these words onely written in place of the entrance.

This no wonder's of much waight, 'Tis the hell of deepe deceit.

Admiring it and the words he was called to for helpe by Musalina, her hee saw, she must be followed, Pamphilia is forgotten, and now may lie and burne in the Caue, Lucenia must bee rescued also, her hee saw madly carried by a sauage man, he ran towards the place hee saw them goe into, as he thought, then were they there rudely handled, and they carried seuerall wayes, all that night in the wood he lay, three passions distract him, tyred with running, and laded with griefe, in sleepe Lucenia wan him, all passions now but how to recouer her hauing abandoned him; three dayes hee did wander thus, till at the end of them towards night hee came vnto the Sea, there hee saw a sauage man take her vp in his armes and throw her into a Boate, leaping himselfe after, and when she would haue throwne her selfe into the Sea, cry∣ing still to Amphilanthus to succour and haue compassion of her, the rude wretch tyed her by the hayre, to his leg, and so road away with her. Musa∣lina from the wood againe claiming ayd, with her hayre rudely cast about her, and lowdest cryes; the diuine powers held him for all this witchcraft, from hurting himselfe, else certainly hee had beene much in danger, what passions hee suffered then cannot be told, a furnace of fiery torments blazing & burni••g in him, then came on other boats, as standing doubtfully whether to returne to Pamphilia, or follow Lucenia, but force of charmes preuaile, so hee called to that and those in it, offer'd money, pray'd, besought, vsed all meanes to gaine passage, at last the barke put in, and tooke him aboard, a storme then rose, or as by charmes he beleeued not, yet being free from those diuellish witchcrafts, till he arriued at Tenedos, on the shore hee saw Musalina and Lucenia walking, and safe; Musalina hauing by diuellish Art beene the cause of all this. Now had he almost forgot all had past by the inchantment, that being almost finisht, but all things before happening were fresh in his memory, his sword, armour and horse hee had hee thought vse of, and now blames himselfe for going so madly and foolishly vnar∣med, but they saluted him, welcomd him, cherish'd him, hee told his fortune, how pleasant and deare was this to them, and now, said hee, I am

disinchanted, and to vs most affectionatly welcome said they; no more shall charmes now trouble you, from them, and through them said hee, I haue broken, and am come to you, and there is hee still liuing in much pleasure, the Duke my Master, by his trauelling that way, after aduentures many and dangerous, landing in Tenedos, where hee happily (because the search en∣ded) found the Emperour, but seeing his resolution tooke hi•• leaue of him, and the Princes of Denmarke and Swethland, whom he met and rescued in a cruell fight at Sea against Pyrates, with noble victory, are all retu••ned and gone into their seuerall Countryes, sending me hither to seeke you, being ad∣uertised by the ships that brought you hither, asking of all ships and men still for you, that you were by her landed heere, am I faulty said Leurenius to be charmed by loue? since the earths glory, and such a Ruler as Amphilan∣thus can be charmed, Loue said the Florantine hath in this greatest triumph; the Duke of Sauoy the next day arriued, who told his story thus: after they had to him related the Emperours fortunes, his discourse being of the rescu∣ing of a distressed Lady set on by theeues, who finding aduantage by her staying a little behind her company, had ceazed on her, robbed her of her Iewels, and would haue shipped her, she lamentably complayned, he com∣ming by heard her, so he relieued her, and her seruants wanting her also, came in to her succour, many thankes he had for his noble fauours, and most when she knew that he was a great Prince, and a stranger, and would be so free and courteous to a strange Lady: after that aduenture being a braue one, sa∣uing the modest honor of a Lady, he returned with little more knowledg of Brittany, the time short of stay, the places desart and wanting of aduentures, Knights none to encounter, peace hauing with true honor and conquest, ta∣ken away those rude troubles, and trauels, all these met, they resolued, to goe to their owne homes, and thence send to know what the Emperour would doe, and so resolued, home they went: The Florentine being so free as to leaue his heart with the sad louing Lady, the Venetian so mad to giue his vnrewarded to Celina, but the Sauoyan, grauer and more stayd, as his yeares were some more then theirs, carryed his home to bestow it in his owne ayre.

Amphilanthus hauing stayd in Tenedos, sometime walking abroad alone, many seuerall thoughts possessing him, he saw a Nymph sitting by a Brooke side, being in the euening, besides a priuate and vnfrequented place, each Angle and wanton winding embanked with trees, and flowres, reeds, rushes, all other water commodyties richly abounding there, for the seruice and pleasure of such like her selfe, she stood still behind a large willow tree, while she vndressed her, and pulled off her fine aparell, as her vpper garments and ruffe, her necke then remayning bare, so as more fine and delicate she seemd, and merrily did she this, singing a dainty song concerning chastity; so pure and mild is the streame neare her thoughts, and actions such as made the Emperour iealous if he could be so, being royally free from such folly, yet tender he was least the Brooke with his cold (and her vnused to cold) armes might make her start and so molest her with such vnpleasing imbracements, therefore to preserue her from such hazard, and her honor from the danger, her naked simplicity might bring her to, in any hands but his, he spake to her, now was she amazed, bashfulnes, modestie, feare, trembling and all posses∣sing

her, yet so prettily in such danger she looked, and such commanding in petitioning lookes she cast, as humility and submission directly gouerned, but he who was by them, only put in mind of such as once pleased him, he in place of taking, or thinking, of taking these, asking fauour, or vsing power, told her she neede not feare him, who only sought to gaine quiet rest to his thoughts which were wandring to his heart, distant thence by much; then with teares in his eyes, casting them vp as vnwilling to let such passions go∣uerne in him, or seeme to doe so in his brauest parts, though he must thus be subiect to passion, he walked away toward the house againe, more perplex∣ed then euer; sigh she did, & so, as made euery good heart groane to heare them, strangly alterd he grew, the cause none knew, many, most, nay a •• that saw him, admired, after supper some two dayes being past, the Duke of Sax∣sony, arriuing there, hauing heard of his being in that Iland, he told the La∣dyes that the Squire had bin long without him, and that hee must confesse himselfe extreame negligent, and vnworthy of that dignity no more prizing the care of it, wherefore hee resolued with the Duke of Saxony the next morning to take his way towards Germany, and because the wayes were tedious, long, and besides filled with such noble friends of his, as would make him stay longer then he was willing, he would goe by Sea. Musalina and Lucenia were much grieued at this, but reason, and there auncient know∣ledge of his resolutions if once resolutly taken, not to bee remoued, were forced to giue consent; Lucenia came with him to the waters side, so to passe ouer into Romania to the Queene againe to serue her, Musalina so farre brought him and her, there they tooke their leaues. The Emperour and his frendly seruant, sayling along the Archipelago, Amphilanthus willed him to tell him his aduenture, which he did, hauing all hapned in Pamphilia, lead therein by maruellous, rare, and vnheard passages, then hee told him as occasion brought in, his being at the Nimphs house, where the Queene had laine, her recouering her first loue by their meanes and discourse, with the Queenes passion and g••iefe for him, and his losse, and all the sorrow which after these Aduentures were finished he found, and left Pamphilia in, directly assuring him, that in such miserable griefe she remained, as long she could not sustaine. Lastly, how Polarchos kept the crowned Stones, none at his departure being assured of the Emperours life, or being, but within the Stone.

These things wrought in him, like drops falling on soft stones, they weare in to them at last, though in the beginning touch & slide off; more & more this pierced, and so much strengthned with his owne affection, as hee resolues to see her; so he commanded the Mariners to land him on the Pamphilian shore, which they did, hee enioyning them to saile on for Germany, giuing the Duke of Saxony letters to Ollorandus, and the rest of the Counsell, with all instructions fit for such imployment, promising to be there in short time after, nothing (this visitation made) should hinder him; the Duke humblie kissing his hands, ouerwhelmed with ioy for this good newes, and assured hope of the hauing it performed, went for Germany, safely arriuing there, the King Ollorandus more ioyed with this blessed intelligence, then with all the happinesses he euer enioyed, Bonfires and all expressions of ioy made, in testimony of this happy tidings, and all the Princes sent vnto, to come and

assemble themselues against his returne, which with glad soules they did, for as their soules they loued him; griefe now abiding no where but in the La∣dyes breasts, who hardly brooked absence; but variety of content made that passion and want sufferable.

Pamphilia still continued her deuour vow, and heart tormenting sorrow, was yet by her seruants and Nobles perswaded to ride abroad; she was won∣derfull vnwilling, knowing it would but trouble her the more, for what plea∣sed others tormented her; what others delighted in vext her to see? what o∣thers gloryed and pleasured in, tortured her; when others commended the sweete Ayre, pleasant Feilds, Brookes, Meddowes, Springs, Flowres, all these said shee, shew seuerally to mee my only losse, and serue but as if I wanted remembrance of him, which I should hate my soule for, if shee had not true, and multiplicity of worthy matters to glory in the memory of him, and sorrow for his losse; that word losse, made her as if loose her selfe in passion, yet neuer lost she the vse aud plenty of her teares, being as if silent, and retyred to spare her breath to spend it in sighs for him, and her thoughts to be exprest in teares; yet abroad she went to satisfie their desires, and as it happened to content her selfe, although had any that morning but spoken that word, as if she should be content, it had bin as ill to her, as meriting her disfauour; but comming into a wood, sweete and delicately pleasing to all but her selfe, to whom nothing could be in that nature, she walked alone hauing lighted from her horse, commanding them to attend her returne in that place, they obeyed, and she wandred a good space, her thoughts yet making farther iourneyes, yet so farre shee went till shee came to a dainty Spring, issuing out of a stony banke vpon pibbles, and making on them a murmuring, sweetely dolefull tune, cleere the water was running on grauell; and such as was fit for her cleere eyes to looke vpon, weepe shee did, teares falling into the streame, not much increasing the brightnes of it, though a∣bundantly they fell, but certainely inriching it with rare sweetnes, and drop∣ping into it such vertue as appeared after in some that dranke of it, for at that very instant there arriued a Knight armed on horsebacke, the Queene heard his horse, and looking vp contrary to her accustomed fashion, had no sudden wit to leaue the place, but sat still or lay still as she did, hee saw her not, but seeing the dainty streame alighted to drinke of it, and not knowing a readier way, pulled first his gauntlet off, then his helme to take vp some of the wa∣ter; the Queene lying among the flowres, and some bushes betweene, so as she could better see him, then he discerne her, especially not thinking of a∣ny there perceiued; O what? nay what? her soule without her selfe, be∣cause in an other body returned, she quickly rose vp, and as she parted so ho∣ped to meete him, kind to her, she ranne vnto him, forgiuing, nay forget∣ing all iniuries, he seeing her threw downe his helme, with open armes re∣ceiued her, and withall vnfained affection embraced her, and well might hee ioyfully doe it, loue thus exprest, besides a labour saued of asking pardon, but here such Ceremonies needed not, those are by these louers thought fit for either false Louers, that must make vp their contents with words, or new or vnexperienced Louers, who talke halfe their time away, but they knew each other, loued, ouely happy in each other, and admired each others loues; neuer was such affection exprest, neuer so truly felt, to the company, they together

returned, he leading her, or rather imbracing her with his cōquering armes, and protesting the water he dranke being mixed with her teares, had so infu∣sed constancy and perfect truth of loue in it, as in him it had wrought the like effect, then were they the best bestowed teares that euer my eyes shed, though till now hardly haue they bin dry said she; speake not said hee of so sad a busines, we are now againe together, and neuer, so againe, I hope, to part, to her traine thus they arriued, but when knowne by them, they neuer staid to be called to kisse his hands, but ranne all at once, euery one striuing to be first, and all casting themselues at his feete, he tooke them vp, and with much noble kindnes receiued them; then they returned to the Cittie, and the next day to the wood againe to see the hell of deceit, but now no more to be abused, thence they brought with them the most loyall seruant, and the brauest f••iend that euer man had, the noble Polarchos; Amphilanthus now recouered his Sword, and brought home his Armour, resoluing nothing should remaine as witnesses of his former ficklenes, or the property of that place, destroying the monument, the Charmes hauing conclusion with his recouering; but none but himselfe could haue gayned the Sword, because belonging to him, millions had tryed in the meane space, and all lamentably perplext; now all is finished, Pamphilia blessed as her thoughts, heart, and soule wished: Amphilanthus expreslesly contented, Polarchos truly happy, and ioyfull againe; this still continuing all liuing in pleasure, speech is of the Germans iourney, Amphilanthus must goe, but intreates Pamphilia to goe as far as Italy with him, to visit the matchles Queene his mother, she consents, for what can she denye him? all things are prepared for the iourney, all now merry, contented, nothing amisse; greife forsaken, sadnes cast off, Pamphilia is the Queene of all content; Amphilanthus ioying worthily in her; And