The First and second part of the history of the famous Euordanus Prince of Denmark With the strange aduentures of Iago Prince of Saxonie: and of both theyr seuerall fortunes in loue.

About this Item

Title
The First and second part of the history of the famous Euordanus Prince of Denmark With the strange aduentures of Iago Prince of Saxonie: and of both theyr seuerall fortunes in loue.
Publication
At London :: printed by I. R[oberts]. for R. B[ankworth]. and are to be sold in Paules Church-yard, at the signe of the Sun,
1605.
Rights/Permissions

To the extent possible under law, the Text Creation Partnership has waived all copyright and related or neighboring rights to this keyboarded and encoded edition of the work described above, according to the terms of the CC0 1.0 Public Domain Dedication ( http://creativecommons.org/publicdomain/zero/1.0/). This waiver does not extend to any page images or other supplementary files associated with this work, which may be protected by copyright or other license restrictions. Please go to http://www.textcreationpartnership.org/ for more information.

This text has been selected for inclusion in the EEBO-TCP: Navigations collection, funded by the National Endowment for the Humanities.

Link to this Item
http://name.umdl.umich.edu/A72050.0001.001
Cite this Item
"The First and second part of the history of the famous Euordanus Prince of Denmark With the strange aduentures of Iago Prince of Saxonie: and of both theyr seuerall fortunes in loue." In the digital collection Early English Books Online 2. https://name.umdl.umich.edu/A72050.0001.001. University of Michigan Library Digital Collections. Accessed June 1, 2024.

Pages

Page [unnumbered]

CHAP. VI. Howe the Queene going into the Forrest, lost her young sonne, for whom shee made great lamentation, and how he was found, and carried away by the Duke of Saxony.

YOV remember, how the Quéene and her little sonne, béeing still in the Caue, were nourished by such meate as the Lyon vsed to bring them: and many times for her recreation, would goe walke amongst the trées néere adioyning to their Caue. Thus continued shée by the space of one whole yéere, neuer séeing other company then the wilde beasts: although there were diuers searches made through the Forrest, as well by the Knights that west in the quest of her and the King, as also by others for diuers occasions. It hapned one day that the Lion hauing brought in a young Kidde, which hée had ta∣ken, the Quéene went forth to breake some wood to rost the same withall: and taking her young sonne with her, who by this time was able a little to goe and craule, and setting him downe in the sunne whilst she went vp and downe, to breake rotten bowes and sticks for the vse aforesaid, think∣ing her childe would continue quiet enough, playing with such toyes as she had left him, went somewhat farre from the place. Hée in the meane time, either béeing wearie of his sport, or disliking the place where he was, or more like∣ly by the speciall will of God, who pittying his and others mishaps, had otherwise determined of his bringing vp, cau∣sed him to goe from place to place: so that by the time his Mother had prouided her wood, and was come to the place shée left him in, he was gone astray cleane out of hearing. Which when she beheld, and had awhile called and sought after him, not knowing what was become of him, a thou∣sand imaginations came into her mind: sometimes think∣ing some wilde beasts had deuoured him, then imagining againe, that the Lyon séeing him in that place by himselfe,

Page [unnumbered]

had carried him to the Caue, as oftentimes hee would be playing with him, and beare him from place to place: and béeing a little comforted with this hope, shee hasted her to the Caue, where likewise shee was deceiued of her hope, which put her into such griefe, that not béeing able to con∣taine herselfe on her féete, shée fell into a traunce. Where wee will leaue her awhile, and declare what became of the child. You shall vnderstand, that the very same day, Mau∣ris Duke of Saxony passing ye Seas from England towards his owne Country, was driuen by force of weather vppon this Coast, where béeing safely arriued, with a few shyps of his Nauie, the rest béeing disperst with the storme, and béeing weary of the Sea, determined with some twentie or thirtie Knights, and Gentlemen in his companie, to take some recreation and pastime in the Forrest, which was hard adioyning vnto ye sea-side where his ships then rode, as is declared in the first chapter of this Booke. So taking their horses and Armour, for feare of any danger which might happen, they altogether set foorth into the Forrest, whereas they had not long rode, before such time as a mer∣uailous great Stagge appeared vnto them, which when Duke Mauris beheld, with his Launce in his hand, hee set spurres to his horse, willing the rest of his company to fol∣low him, hoping by the swiftnes of his horse to haue slaine the Stagge: which hee pursued so farre, that at length hee had lost the sight of all his company, and was entred so far in the Forrest, that hée knew not well which way to re∣turne againe, so thicke were the trées and bushes, and so many the small trodden paths which ledde two and fro, made by the wilde beasts.

Thus roming to and fro, fearing to loose himselfe, and hoping to finde his companie, at length hee passed by the place, where as the young child had gotten himselfe by his crauling, whilst his Mother was gathering sticks (euen a∣bout the time that she good Lady was returned to the Caue to seeke for him) which when Duke Mauris beheld, hee a∣lighted downe from his horse, and séeing it to be so fayre

Page [unnumbered]

and no bodie nere it, hee mused from whence it should come, or by what meanes it might be brought into a place, so desert and voyd of humane companie: then taking the childe vp in his armes, and earnestly beholding it, hee thought that it did very much resemble his young sonne lago, who was then about the age of 18 or 20 monthes old, wherefore after hee had a while called to sée, whether any body would come to séeke for the child, and sawe that none came, he mounted againe on horse backe, taking the childe with him, determining to haue him nourished & brought vp with his sonne, because they did so much resemble and were so néere of age, imagining that it might bee some Gentlemans, or Nobles mans childe, that by some great misfortune was brought into this extremitie, thus some∣times musing of one matter, and so of another, he rod on∣wards he knew not well whether, but by chance he hapned on a small beaten way, which brought him out of the For∣rest, almost at the same place where he entred, where hée found all his companie in a great feare, and doubt what was become of him, minding to haue returned againe into the Forrest to séeke for him. But when they sawe him com∣ming, they were all filled with great ioy, & went to méete him, to whom he recounted all his aduenture, and of the finding of the childe, which when they had heard, and be∣held him, they much admired as well his strange finding, as also the rarenesse of his beautie, then which they imagi∣ned neuer to haue séene any more accomplished: some ima∣gining this, some that, and all they knew not what, this past they away the time vntill they were come, where their shippes ancored, and going aboord the next day, ha∣uing the wind faire, and the seas indifferently calme, they set saile in so happie a houre, that within foure daies after they arriued in the Dutchie of Saxonie, at a port called Le∣ton, from whence they rode towards the Cittie of Bren∣sweke, where then the Dutches was remaining, of whom and the whole Cittie, the Duke was most louingly recea∣ued, and welcomed home, who presently after his comming

Page [unnumbered]

to the Pallace, he demaunded for his young sonne, who be∣ing brought before him, he caused likewise the childe which he found in the Forrest to be brought also, who being both together, a man might very hardly knowe the one from the other, but that the Saxon Prince, was something the bigger, as being elder by sixe monthes, hand had also as then somewhat the better cullor, being norished with more wholsomer diet. After they had a while beheld and played with the children, the Duke declared vnto the Dutches, and rest of the Lords and Ladies there present, the man∣ner of his finding, as before is recited, and likewise willed to haue him brought vp, as acompanion with his sonne, desiring the Dutches to bee as carefull of him, as of her owne, assuring her that his minde gaue him, how that the childe was issued of a Noble bloode: & because they knewe not by what name to call him, the Duke willed him to bée called the Gentleman of the Forrest, which name we must vse vntill such time, as fortune shall make knowne, from whence he is procéeded. Héere againe will wee leaue him, and returne to speake of the Quéene his mother, whom we left in a traunce in the Caue, where hauing line a long while, and at length come vnto herselfe againe, and remembring the losse of her childe, fell to wéeping, and renting, and tearing her face with her nailes, pulling her haire from her head, and cursing herselfe which had taken no better care of him: then comming foorth of the Caue, she went crying vp and downe, causing the woods to resound the eccho of her son, séeking whether shee could in any place perceaue, either by bloud or other signe, if he were deuou∣red of the wild beasts, and finding none, she fell againe to séeke in euery bush, if happily hee might be crept therein, but all in vaine bestowed she her paines good Lady, to séeke for him which in that place could not bee found, for God had otherwise ordained, for the bringing vp of the child, as you haue already heard, though vnknowne to the good La∣die his mother, who was now in such extreame griefe, not finding nor knowing what was become of her childe, that

Page [unnumbered]

she became as franticke, wéeping, & crying, vp and downe the Forrest all that day, and most part of the night, till be∣ing forced with wearinesse she sat downe, and rested her∣selfe. Where sitting a while, and contemplating her sor∣rowes, one whiles there would come into her minde, the remembrance of her husband, and her former estate, being in ioy and prosperitie, the calling to minde whereof, did strike into her the greater sorrowe: for being in miserie, there is no greater griefe, then to call to minde forepassed pleasures: then againe, would come into her minde her vision, which she sawe in the Forrest, and the hope of fu∣ture ioyes, which thereby was promised, which did some∣what againe mittigate her sorrowe, thus passed shee away all that night, in weeping and lamentations, neither caring nor thinking what might become of her, so excessiue was her griefe.

Do you have questions about this content? Need to report a problem? Please contact us.