CHAP. I.

IN the most rich and famous Countrey of Thessaly, raigned one Dionisius, whose discretion in gouernment, and singular wisedome in ruling so mightie a Nation, made the splendant fame of his renowne to spread it selfe to the vttermost confines of the world: and most Countries made continuall traffique thither, by reason of [Page] the good and equitable lawes hée had instituted for the quiet of his Countrey. Among the rest of his externall blessings, where­of hée enioyed abundance, his Court was much renowned by the exceeding beautie, and vertuous gifts of Oliuia his Quéene, by whome hee had one onely daughter named Laurana, whose beautie so farre excelled all other Ladies, that [...] was esteemed (in those partes of the world) the onely Paragone for beautie, asides, the vertuous qualities, and precious giftes of nature, wherewith her minde was abundantly adorned, did so much extoll her high commendations, that many Princes of farre Countries, did trauell thither to attaine her leue. In so much that by continuall accesse of many strange Knights, the Court of Dionisius daily increased in dignitie, who gaue most couete­ous entertainment to all, as fitted to their honour, and accor­ded with his most bountuous wisedome. Amongst the rest of the Knightes that came to be eye-witnesses of the beautie of Laurana, it fortuned the yong Prince, Parismus, Sonne and heire to the King of Bohemia, to arriue in the confines of Thes­saly, being accompanied with diuers Nobles of his Fathers Court. Who hauing before heard of the fame of Dionisius, the courteous entertainment hee gaue to strangers, and the ex­ceeding beautie of his daughter Laurana, determined to tra­uell either to trie his fortune to winne her loue, as also to be partaker of his bountie, being thereto drawne by a vertuous inclination to imitate his honourable examples. And calling to him one of his Knightes named Oristus, willed him to goe to Dionisius Court, and signifie vnto his Maiestie, that hée was desirous to visit him, if it please him to accept him as a guest.

Oristus making spéede, soone arriued at the Cittie of Thebes, where the King then kept his Court, and being admitted his presence, deliuered his message. Which when Dionisius vnder­stood, he told Oristus that he would very wilingly gratulate the Princes kindnes, desiring him to certifie his Lord, that he shuld be most hartily welcome, wherewith Oristus departed.

[Page] Dionisius willing his Noble men to be in readines the next day, for hée purposed to méete the Prince himselfe. In the meane time hée commaunded all preparation that might bée deuised to be made, for his more honorable entertainement. Early the next morning, Dionisius attended by his noble men, rode forth to méete the Prince, some thrée miles from the Ci­tie, whome he most louingly imbraced, and welcommed with excéeding courtesie.

Parismus maruelling at this vnexpected kindnesse in him, said: Most high and magnificent King, I being altogether vnworthy of this your excéeding fauour, most humbly intreate your pardon to my presumption, desiring you to impute my rashnesse to my youth, which hath attempted this boldnesse, without any hope in the least degrée how to deserue such kind­nesse.

Dionisius taking him by the hand, desired him to leaue off those spéeches, for that hée estéemed his Court and Countrey insufficent to entertaine him according as hée desired, telling him that hée was the most welcome guest to his Court, that might be: wherewith they ioyfully departed towardes the Cittie, but as they roade, they heard a most gréeuous grone in the Thicket of a Woode hard by. Whereupon Dionisius commaunded his Knightes to beset the Wood on euery side, himselfe, Parismus, and diuers Noble men, entered the Thic­ket, where they found an Armed Knight most grieuously wounded: At which pittifull spectacle, Dionisius alighted from his Horse, viewed his face, and knew him to be his trustie Knight Osiris, whome hée most dearely loued. Wherefore hée commaunded him to bee conueyed to the Court, that his owne Phisitians might looke to him, and binde vp his wounds.

In the meane time the King, Parismus, and diuers Knightes, made diligent searche in the wood, but coulde finde no creature there, and thereby no certaintie how Osiris should be thus wounded. That departing discontented, the [Page] King was certified that there was great hope of his recouery, who speaking to Parismus, said; Most noble Prince, I hope this mischaunce hath not disquieted you, for I would be sorie you should conceiue any occasion of sadnesse thereat, but I trust by that time Osiris be recouered, wée shall easily come to the knowledge hereof.

My Lord, replied Parismus, I haue no cause to be gréeued for my part, but to see your Maiestie hereby disquieted. Indéed said Dionisius, it some what gréeueth me, because Osiris is one that I loue, being well worthy thereof, for his vertues do farre excéed many mens, of whose faith and fidelitie I haue had suf­ficient triall, that a more loyall Knight cannot be found. By this time they were come to the Pallace gate, where was the Quéene with all her traine of Ladies, to welcome Paris­mus, which was a most pleasing sight to beholde, that the Prince with the suddaine viewe of theyr beautie, was dri­uen into a déepe studie, from which hée was reuiued by the Quéene, who most gratiously welcommed him, saying: In all kindnesse, I bid your honour welcome into Thessaly, where we will indeuour to requite your friendship in com­ming to vs.

Most vertuous Quéene (quoth hée) for this your honou­rable fauour, both my selfe and all that is mine, shall be con­tinually bound to do you dutifull seruice. The glory of the Pallace made Parismus maruaile, this honourable enter­tainment, the sumptuous banquets, the rare Musick, and gal­lant showes, too tedious to rehearse, made him thinke that Fame had altogether darkened the glory of that place, that all his sences were replenisht with varietie of delight.

At such time as Dionisius, and the Prince, entered the Court, Laurana, hearing of the Princes comming, standing at her Chamber windowe, viewed them well, and knew, or at least thought that to be Parismus, that came with her father, noting well his gallant & comely proportion, said to one of her maides named Leda, Is not yonder Knight that accompaineth my [Page] father, the Prince of Bohemia? Yes (quoth Leda) I thinke so, for a more gallant Knight did I neuer beholde. Wherewith the crimzin colour in Lauranaes cheeke began to reuiue: which Leda perceiuing, said, it would become our Cou [...] wel, to haue his presence continually, for it cannot chuse but a Knight of so faire prrportion, must needs be endued with as excellent gifts. Why quoth Laurana, this Court cannot long containe such guests: wherewithall she went to dinner, féeling a kinde of al­teration in al her parts, which séemed strange to her, for euen then loue began to kindle in her tender heart, which yet shee did not well vnderstand, but afterwards grewe to a burning heate, as shall be declared. She vsed sildome to come abro [...]d, but sometimes priuately for recreation, for such was her chaste resolue, that she delighted in nothing but vertuous meditati­ons.

To relate the conference the King and Parismus had, were tedious, and imperitinent to the Historie. But the Prince mar­uailed he could not sée Laurana, so famous for her beautie, being hereby drawne into many déepe cogitations, by which thoughts, and remembrance of the long iourny hée had passed, onely to be­hold her person, and now could not be assures h [...]e had seene the beautie hée expected, was drawne into such a sad studie, that in a manner he neither heard what was spoken, nor cegarded where he was. At last reuiuing his sences that were dulled with pas­sion, hée suddenly sighed, and smiling said (fearing his heaui­nesse had bene noted) your Maiestie may peraduenture note my sadnesse: the remembrance of your Knights iniury, maketh me study how he should be so gréeuously wounded, and no man found that should act the same (which words hée onely spake to excuse himselfe.

Surely answered the King, some man by secret treachery hath wrought him that harme, which at more conuenient time we shall finde the truth thereof, which I would effect with all spéed, but that I hope to be ascertained by himselfe, whom my Physitions say is in good estate of amendment. With these and [Page] many other spéeches. Dinner being fully ended, Dionisius, Parismus, and the Quéene, walked into a most pleasant Garden, where after a while he was entertained with a most costly and rare banquet, prouided in an Arbour or banqueting House, adioyning to a Groue fraught with many pleasant Birds, whose swéete har­monie much augmented the pleasure of the place, all things being most artificially contriued for delight, which when Parismus be­held, hee then began to thinke with himselfe, how shall I sée the Princesse Laurana, for whose sight I haue vndertaken this trauell, whose delightfull presence shall refresh my tired sences, and expell those inward cares wherewith I am thus perplexed. But when he sawe none but the King and Quéene, hée was much troubled in his minde, to thinke what might be the cause, that thée whose fame had long since come to his knowledge, was not to be séene, that by constrained mirth, hée past away the time in such Banquet­ting and other pastime, as the King entertained him withal, which were such, as he much wondred at. And night being come, with all statelinesse that might be, hée was by them conducted to his Lodging, which was most sumptuously adorned with most pre­cious and rich hangings, that the place séemed a new Paradice, for there wanted nothing that might either delight the eare or eye. Lodgings for his Noblemen, Knights and seruants, were placed in such manner, that they séemed by their scituation to be gardi­ants to their Lords person: hauing then taken his leaue of the King and Quéene, he betooke himselfe to his rest.

CHAP. II.

AFter Parismus was come to his Chamber, hee called to him Oristus, the onely man whome he trusted, and asked him how hée liked the Court of Dionisius. My Lord (quoth hée) the small continuance I haue had therein, might be suficient to excuse me from sensuring thereof, but to satisfie your demaund, I doe estéeme and thinke of it, as a most re­nowned, and Honorable place. But said Parismus, what if thy Lord shal here purchase that which shal be worse thē death vnto him, vnlesse hee haue remedie? what wouldest thou then thinke? I would my Lord said he, speake my opinion, if I knewe whence the originall of that euill should procéede. From my selfe said Parismus, for thus it is. Thou I am sure hast heard of the renowned Lauarana, and of the Hnoourable re­port that is spred of her Beautie and vertues, which driueth me into manifolde thoughts, because I cannot beholde that beautie, therefore I impart my minde to thee, as to the onely man I trust, that vnlesse I can by thy meanes haue some hope of comfort, I will both curse the houre of my Natiuitie, and re­maine hereafter in continuall griefe: therefore counsell mee what I were best to doe herein.

My Lord saide Oristus, since it pleaseth your Highnesse so much to fauour me, as to chuse mee to be your ayde herein, I wil most faithfully, & speedily, do to my vttermost to accomplish [Page] your desire. I pray thée then doo it, said Parismus, with all speeds, for my restlesse passions require counsaile. I haue, said Oristus, some acquaintance with Lord Remus, who is great­ly fauoured of the King, continually Resident in the Court, and well beloued of all, by whose meanes I do not doubt, but both to haue some certain knowledge of the Princes, as also soone to bring you to her speech, & according as you haue put me in trust, so I will vse all the meanes I can to purchase your content.

Much part of the night being past, Parismus betooke him­selfe to his rest, and Oristus to his lodging. In the morning Dionisius being early vp, vsed his accustomed maner to visit his guests, and cōming to Parismus Chamber, he found him not there, but walking in a gallery thereto adioyning, and saluting him, said: Noble Prince, if you are not weary of your late iourney, I would request your company to goe [...]n hunting this day, for that I haue appointed to maet [...] a noble friend of mine at the Forrest of redde Déere (for so it was called, for the abundance of those beasts that the Country breedeth,) where you shall sée what pastims the Houndes can make. Which Parismus kindly accepted. Oristus he staied be­hinde, to the ende to brng his purpose to effect, and walking into the Gardein, he chaunced according to his desire, to méete with Lord Remus, who hauing saluted him, said he was glad to finde him at leisure, to haue some conference with him a­bout their acquaintance: so that walking into a solitary Arbour, talking of diuers matters, it chaunced the Princes Laurana thinking to recreate her selfe in the Gardein, for that she thought all the Nobles had bene gone with the King her Father on hunting, to come accompanied with her mayden Leda, vnto y^e solitary place, where Lord Remus and Oristus were then talking, & espying Lord Remus, who she presenly knew. My Lord, quoth she, I had thought you had bene on hūting this day, but I see your mind is busied with some other excercises. Most noble Princes quoth he, if I had gōe on hun­ting, I shuld haue left this honorable Lord without company, [Page] so that I thought if my dutie to kéepe him from better studies, with my homely talke: so thée kindly saluting them, told Oris­tus he was welcome to her fathers court, and therewith depar­ted. Quoth Oristus, My Lord, is this the Princes Laurana, of whome I haue heard such rare commendations in Bohemia? it is said hée, the very same, and the most vertuous and courteous Lady that liueth this day, who very seldome commeth abroad, but continually giueth her mind to practise excellent qualities, amongst other vertuous Ladies. During this there talke, they had walked about the Place, to the end that Oristus might be­hold the statelynesse thereof, who hauing séene all things, and knowing which was Lauranas, lodging, was in some measure comforted by that knowledge. Thus the day being spent, and the King returned from hunting, Parismus came to Oristus, and required of him if hée had heard of Laurana, and what com­fort there was for him. My Lord (quoth he) I haue beheld her, and heard her heauenly voyce, which is able to astonish any man with her exceeding beautie, relating vnto him all the con­ference hée had with the Lord Remus, which did greatly reioyce him to heare, and so betooke himselfe to his rest, where he spent the most part of the night, in meditating how to come to talke, or haue a sight of her. Uery early the next morning, taking a booke in his hand, hée went into the Garden that was vnder Lauranas Chamber window, where hauing walked a while, hee spied her looking out, that hée stood as one halfe amazed to behold her wonderfull beautie, for though hée had neuer séene her before, yet his fancie perswaded him it was shee, which perceiuing, slipping backe, called Leda vnder her, asking herif shee knewe the Knight that walked vnder her windowe, who certified her it was the Prince of Bohemia: whereat Laurana blusht so excéedingly, that her heart séemed to leape within her, then secretly looking out, she diligently beheld him, taking such general view of his comelinesse, that presently her fancie began to commend his person féeling in her selte a kinde of delight to behold him: but Parismus séeing her gone, began to reprous [Page] himselfe of [...]olly, that by his rashnesse had depriued himselfe of her sight. By that time he had walked there a short space, Ori­stus came to tell him that the King expected his comming into the gr [...]t Chamber, which caused him to depart, giuing a sadde looke to the window, as very vnwilling to leaue the sight ther­of, recounting to Oristus how fortunately hee had beheld Lau­rana. By this time they were come to the King, who saluting Parismus, desired his company to goe visit Osiris, at their com­ming they found him very chéerfull, which reioyced Dionisius to see, and comming to him, tolde him, that hée with the young Prince of Bohemia, was come to visit him, and to be assured of the accasion of his hurt. I yéeld my humble thankes said Osiris to your highnesse, and to that noble Prince▪ for the care you haue of my welfare, being sorie that by my misaduenture you haue bene all disquieted.

But to satisfie your highnesse herein, thus it was; The same day that your excellency [...]ounde me so wounded, I being vp somewhat earely walking at the nether ende of my Orchard, espied an armed Knight, haling & pulling a beautiful yong mai­den, in most rude and discurteous maner, and notwithstanding the manifold intreaties she vsed, would not leaue his crueltie, but vsed these spéeches vnto her: Content thy selfe to be thus vsed at my hands, and take it for a fauour that I vse thée not worse: for the iniury thy brother hath done me, will I reuenge on thée. Why said she, it was not my offence, nor procured by my knowledge, he is a knight, & beareth armes, reuenge your selfe on him, and do not attempt to dishonor me that am a mai­den, but rather take my life, that thereby I may be rid from the shame you intend to my honor. Nay proud damzel quoth he, if thou thinkest the vsage I intend a shame, I wil the rather doe it, to vexe thée. I listned so long as I could to heare their talke, and marking which way they tooke, I went in, and with all spéed I could, armed my selfe and followed after them, but could not ouertake them before they were gotten in y^e wood, where by the cry of the damzell., I found him ready to accomplish his [Page] villany, threatning most gréeuously to torment her, if shée did not yeelde vnto him. Traytor, said I, what moueth thée to vse this Lady thus discurteously? [...]t ill beséemeth a gentleman and a knight as thou seemest to bee, to vse such rygor to a distressed virgin. Sir begone, said he againe, or I will quickly send thée a­gainst thy will, and then tell thee my reason. Wherewith the maydē desired me, I would pittie her estate; telling me that she was daughter vnto a knight, belonging to the King of Salme­tia, and was by this knight violently taken sorth of her fathers garden, none being by to aide her, and brought vnto that poore estate, by the crueltie of that wicked homycide, who ment to dishonor her, desiring me if I were a knight, and not [...]ent to be inhumane, that I would release her from his tyrannie. Wher­withall (his mind being puft with villany) he ran vpon me, and Idefended my selfe, we had not continued long, but there issued forth of the wood two other in armor, being as it séemed, of the firsts acquaintance, and violently running vpon me, not spea­king one word, left me in that estate you found me, but when the two last came forth, the mayden fled away, and whether they found her againe or no I knowe not. This my soueraigne is the true occasion of my mischance. Parismus all this while stood very sadly musing, hauing his minde more busied on his Loue, then to listen to Osiris spéech, being far inthralled to the beauty of Laurana, on whom hée placed all his felicitie, till that Dionisius wakened him from his dumps wich this spéech. My Lord said he, how was it possible that these men should escape our hands, we comming so néere, and besetting the wood pre­sently vpon the noyse? and I maruel how the dam [...]zell could escape vnséen, we hauing so néerely searched the wood through­out. My Lord (quoth hée) either they haue some priuie Caue wherein they conuey themselues, or I cannot thinke how they should so secretly depart, not knowing that there was any at hand so rescue Osiris. Thus hauing conferred, and euery ones censure diuersly giuen, Dionisius said: My heart earnestly de­sireth to know how this is come to passe, and to find that poore distressed mayden.

CHAP. III.

WHen Dionisius and Parismus had visited Oristus, and returned to the Court, they heard the sound of most swéete according Musicke, which maide Dionisius woon­der, but it was soone certified him, that there was come to his Court diuerse La­dies of great account, from forth of Hun­garia and Sparta, in great mirth and roy­altie, whom the Quéene had entertained, not knowing what they were, because they concealed themselues, and that there were diuerse knights hunting in the Forrest of red Déere, and intended that night to come to the Pallace, which made Dio­nisius, both admire what these newe come guests should bée, and studie how to entertaine them on such a suddaine. There­fore leauing Parismus to bee accompaned with others of his nobles, hée gaue order for the entertaining that company of straungers. When Parismus was alone, he got himselfe to his Chamber, and began to think that now there was such a com­panie of states that concealed themselues cōming to the court, hée being so infortunate, as not yet hauing made knowne his loue to Laurana, some of them might become his riuall, and make first sute vnto her, and so be first accepted, and hée disap­pointed of his chiefest felicitie: therefore hée determined that euening to vse all possible meanes hée might, to make knowne his affection: hauing spent most part of the afternoone in these [Page] and such like m [...]ditations, hée was certified by Oristus, th [...] straunge knights were come to the Court, and t [...]t [...]ée knewe them to be Antenor, the young King of Hungaria; and the young Quéene, the kings sonne of Spar [...]a, named Turnus, and one young knight that concealed himselfe, who séemed to be the greatest personage in the company, and that the Ladies that came before, [...]ere the Quéene of Hungaria, Ladie Isa­bella, sister to the Prince of Sparta, and with them diuerse La­dies of account, which made Parismus muse what that vn­knowne knight should bée, and began to bée iealous of that, which as yet hée had no likelihood himselfe to obtaine. Being thus troubled in minde, hée resolued that night by a maske to honour Dionisius his guests, thereby to winne occasion if it might possible be, to court his mist [...]esse. Therefore hée willed Oristus to make some of the young Nobles of the Court ac­quainted with his intent, and so to certifie Dionisius that hée was scarce well, and desired to kéepe his Chamber, which when Dionisius heard, hée desired Oliuia to sée that he wan­ted nothing, for hée was the onely guest hée estéemed. The Quéene comming to Parismus Chamber to visit him, founde him very busie with the other knights about their maske, who espying her, begane to be somewhat abashed, saying: Most noble Quéene, I desire your pardon, hauing taken me thus on a sudden. I did certifie his hignesse that I was not well, to the intent to bring our maske vnlooked for. Noble Prince re­plied the Queene, I am glad that you are in the good estate of health, and thus readie to honour vs with your vertuous ex­ercises, promising you to keep your intent secret to my selfe. And if you want any furtherance that I can pleasure you withall, it shall be readie at your commaund: wherewith she departed to Laurana, telling her, that she intended to make the new come states a banquet, and therefore willed her to giue order to haue the same performed: which newes reioyced Laurana to heare, for that she hoped there to see the Prince of Bohemia, to whom she [...]are an inward loue and desire of acquaintance: so that ha­sting [Page] all things to a readinesse, and adorning her selfe in most comely ornaments, shée expected the wished time of their com­ming. When supper was endde, the Quéene cōmaunded a gen­tleman to inuite Dionisius, the king of Hungaria, the Prince of Sparta, and all the rest vnto a banquet, in an excéeding stately Gallery, where they were by the Quéene most royally enter­tained, all in generall admiring the excéeding beautie, and comely statelinesse of the Princesse Laurana, that almost they fed thēselues as much with her surpassing beautie, as with the dainties that were there prepared. Laurana on the other side, maruailed, that amongst all those knights she could not behold the prince of Bohemia, which drawn her into māifold thoughts only resting in hope to be afterwards assured of the truth. By that time the banket was ended, and all readie to depart, they were staied by the sound of most swéete musicke, which vnex­pected noise, made Dionisius wonder: but to driue him frō those thoughts, the maskers ētred in this sort: first entred two torch­bearers, apparelled in white satten, beset with spingles of gold, after whome followed two Eunuches, apparelled all in gréene, playing on two instruments, then came Parismus, ateired all in Carnation saften, most richly beset with precious stones, that the glistring restection thereof, with the light of the Can­dle did dazle the eyes of the beholders: next followed two other torch bearers & Eunuches apparelled as the former, and play­ing on seuerall instruments, when came two knights apparrel­led in tawny, most richly adorned: next them followed two o­ther torch bearers and Cunuches, apparelled as the first: after whome followed two other Knights, apparelled in tawnie as the other: and last come two torch bearers, & two Eunuches, apparilled, and playina on seurall instruments: after whom followed Lord Remus, apparelled in Carnation like Parismus, but not in such gorgeous maner, al togither marching thrice a­bout the Gallery, whiles their musick sounded, all the assembly wel liked this maske, especially Dionisius wondred of whence they were, for that hée wes altogither ignorant, nothing suspec­ting [Page] that they were of his owne Court, saying to the Prince of Sparta, there is a yong Prince in my Court, that is now ficke, otherwise I should think he had bene chiefe amongst them: the eyes of the whole company were busied with beholding their comely persons, and their eares delighted with the swéet sound of their musicke, Laurana aduisedly beheld those knights, thin­king verily that Parismus was one in the company: for shée knew not of the message he had sent the king her father. While she was in the midst of this meditation, Parismus came with great reuerence to take her by the hand to dance, which shée courteously accepted: Lord Remus tooke the Princesse of Spar­taes sister, Lord Oristus and other Lady of Sparta, and likewise the rest. The first measure being ended, Parismus, reuerently saluted Laurana with these spéeches. Most vertuous Princesse, pardō me for presuming to trouble your sacred eares with my spéeches, for the vertue of your beautie hath ouermastered my affections, and my poore life is diuoted to your seruice, desiring you to accept me for your poore seruant, though altogether vn­worthy. And though the smal tryall you haue of my truth, may discourage you to credit me: yet notwithstanding my vnwor­thinesse, I desire you to imploy me any way, thereby to try how willing I will be to merit your fauour. Sir, quoth Laurana, I thanke you for your kindnes, neither can I blame your spéeches if your meaning be good. But as I am vnworthy to entertaine such a seruant, so would I not willingly trust him I know not, but heareafter when your disguise is banished, as I shall sée good I will entertaine you. Noble Lady, said Parismus, I haue taken this habit only, thereby to be so happy, as to make manifest my affectiō to deserue your fauour: that if you wil vouchsafe to con­ceiue a right of my good meaning, you would say, he that profe­reth his seruice, would refuse to do it to any but to your most worthy selfe. Sir (qd. she) as I knowe you not, so I am ignorāt of your meaning, and therefore count mée not vnmannerly to make no more estimation of your profered curtesie. Paris­mus being ready to speake, the second measure sounded, which [Page] being ended, Lord Remus began to parlie with Lady Isabella, sister to the Prince of Sparta. Courteous Lady, I being vn­knowne, profer my humble seruice vnto your selfe, vnto whose perfections I am so wholly bound, that vnlesse it pleaseth you to accept of my loyaltie, I shall consume my wearisome dayes in sorrowe. Sir, quoth Isabella, your vndeserued kindnesse I knowe not how to requit, and I would be sorie tha [...] by m [...] oc­casion you should be grieued, and I promise you as occasion serueth, hereafter I will entertaine you. All this while Paris­mus was talking w^t Laurana, vsing these speeches; Most wor­thy Princesse, because I am disguised, you may count my woordes to proceede, rather of course, then of true affec­tion: but assure you, neuer did any with truer zeale vtter his fainting wordes, nor more abborre vnfaithfulnesse then my selfe doth: being also vnknowne to you, you may thinke my boldnesse to proceede of hope not to be knowne: but to acquaint you with my name, it is Parismus, who haue forsaken my Countrey and friends, onely to serue your vertuous selfe, and doe you seruice. But since my comming into your fathers Court, I could neuer be so happy vntill this happy houre, as to enioy your presence, which is the only comfort whereon my happinesse dependeth: therefore vertuous Princesse, weigh my intent in the ballance of equitie, and let mee by your com­fortable speech be reuiued. My noble Lord, replied Laurana, I hartily thanke you for taking so much paines for my sake, being vnworthy thereof, and also vnable to be sufficiently thankful vnto you for the same: and for that you say your hap­pinesse res [...]eth in my power, if I can any way worke yourcon­tent to the vttermost of my endeuour, I will do it. Parismus was so rauished with the heauenly voyce of Laurana, that hee could haue wisht no other happinesse, then to enioy her pre­sence, and was by her kind and modest answere, so much com­forted, that hee resolued, no miserie or calamitie whatsoeuer, should alter his affection. Laurana on the other side, whose minde was neuer before in thraldome, began now to bee so [Page] farre lied in the bonds of friendship, & good liking to Parismus, that she was altogether vnwilling to leaue his cōpany: by this time the rest of the maskers hauing ended their speeches, the sound of the musick made them remember their third measure, which being ended, Parismus kissing the Princesse hand, with a heauy sigh, left her in the place where he found her, and be­ing ready to depart, Dionisius comming vnto them, said: Most courteous Knights, I know not what entertainement to giue you, for that you are to me vnknown: but request this at your hands, that you take a banquet my daughter hath prouided: which words caused Parismus to bee willing vnto, because it was the Princesse doing, whose presence was the sweet pre­seruatiue of his life. Your Maiestie (answered Parismus) ma­keth vs so kinde a proffer, that wee cannot (beeing bound at your command) deny your request: so vnmasking himselfe, hee came with great reuerence to Dionisius, who knowing him, imbracing him, said, hee was glad he had no worse sick­nesse then that, and that he was much indebted vnto him for honouring his Courts with his pastime. So saluting all the company, the Knight that concealed himselfe, suddenly depar­ted the presence, vpon occasion as shall heereafter bee declared. All the assembly greatly commended Parismus, being much delighted to behold his vertuous behauiour, and was indeed worthy to be accounted the Prince of curtesie. The Queene then told him, she had beene his secret counsell, keeper, and he humbly kissing her hand, thanked her, and being come to the place where the banket was prouided, Dionisius told them, he would leaue them to be welcommed by the Queene and Lau­rana, whilest [...]ent to accompany his other guests: which Parismus was very glad of, & Laurania both, who al this while had so furfeited with beholding his comly person, that the deep impression of lone was now fully setled in her heart. But Paris­mus not forgetting to salute that saint he serued, with reuerēce kiss her, thanking her that shee vouchsafed to take such paines, to prepare entertainement for such vndeseruing guests: vsing [Page] many others speeches which delighted her to heare, and him to vtter, that they were so farre delighted one in anothers com­pany, that it was death for them to part, she not knowing that his loue was grounded vpon such firme resolue, nor he think­ing she would so kindely accept his proffred seruice. During the time of the banquet, a simple iudging eie might discerne their loue by their lookes, that all the company began to déeme that which afterwards proued true. Euery one with kinde sa­lutations being parted to their seuerall lodgings. Parismus told Oristus, what kind and vndeserued fauour hee had recei­ued at Lauranaes hands, which Oristus was very glad of, the very recitall whereof, affected the Princes heart with an ex­ceeding ioy.

Laurana making all the haste she could to be rid from the company of Isabella, and other Ladies that accompanied her, because her heart was desirous to meditate of her loue, went into her chamber, where being alone much troubled in her thoughts, she votered these speeches. How happy am I to bee thus disquieted with the sight of Parismus, not knowing whe­ther his words proceed of custome or affection: I that was earst at liberty, am now become captiue to mine owne affecti­ons, and inthralled to a stranger. What of that, peraduenture he is in the same mind I am, neither haue I any cause to doubt but that his words proceed from the good will he beareth me, and that the intent of his comming to my Fathers court, was onely for my sake, as he saith: might I be happily assured of the truth of these doubts, then would my disquiet mind rest high­ly contented: and vntill that time I shall but spend my time in endles care, and heauines: if these words proceeded from the depth of true meaning, then will he stil prosecute the suit heee hath begun: neither haue I any cause to suspect his honorable meaning. Well, I will content my selfe so well as I can, and séeke some meanes whereby to be assured, and rid my pensiue heart of these doubts. Earely the next morning, she called Leda vnto her, saying, that she had a secret to impart vnto her, that [Page] did concerue her life and honour, and therefore willed her to be secret, telling her all that had passed betwixt Parismus and her: and how that vnlesse she might be certaine of his intent, she should but consume her selfe with care.

CHAP. IIII.

DIonisius was earely vp as his custome was, to visit his guestes, and busie in entertai­ning them with all roialty that might bee, Parismus being as busie in his minde (more then any knewe) got himselfe into the Garden, vnder the windowe of Laura­naes lodging, beeing frustrated of all o­ther hope to see his beloued: where he had not long walked, but was soone espied of Laurana, who bee­ing delighted with his sight, called Leda, and willed her to make some excuse into the Garden, where hee was walking, to see it his comming into that place were for her sake or no. Leda therefore taking a faire cloath in her hand, went into the Garden, as if shee entended to gather some hearbes, and had not seene him. When shee came neere the place where hee was sitting vnder an open Arbour, in deepe stu­dy, hauing a sight of her, hee suddenly started, and knowing her to bee the seruant to Laurana, kindly saluted her, saying: faire Damosell, quoth hee, if I bee not deceiued, you are attendant on the Princesse Laurana. Sir, answered Leda, I am. I pray you (saith hee) how [Page] fareth your Mistris, for I am in doubt our last nights [...]cise disquieted her, which if I knew, I wold not hereafter attempt such boldnesse. Indeed (quoth Leda) I know not, but I heard my Lady much commend the Prince of Bohemia, to be a gal­lant Knight, and that she was much beholding vnto him, and vsed many gracious words in his commendation. Do you not (quoth he) know Parismus, if you saw him? no sir, said Leda: I am the man, said he, and thou bringest me that comfort, by re­porting that my mistris thinketh well of mee, as if thou hadst saued my life, & I am to entreat a fauour at thy hands, which if thou grant, I shal rest bound vnto thee for the same. My Lord (said Leda) I humbly desire you to command me, and I will both faithfully and secretly accomplish your request. Then this is my request, quoth he, that thou wouldest commend me vnto thy Lady, and deliuer vnto her this paper, certifying her, that I haue thus holdly presumed to [...]rouble her, being therto com­pelled by her commanding courtesie, on which hope I fully re­ly for pardon: withall giuing her a rich Iewell, shee departed towards her mistris, telling him that she would returne with an answer the next morning. Parismus being much quieted in minde with this hope of comfort, went into the great Hall, where he found the King and y^e rest of the Nobles, and hauing saluted them, he espied Sicanus, sonne to the king of Persia, betweene whom and his father, the king of Bohemia had been long time in continual wars: but now lately a peace was con­cluded. This Sicanus was the knight that concealed himselfe, who the night before, seeing Parismus so much honoured, and beloued, could not indure to stay any longer, for that he enuied him still as an enemy. Parismus séeing him, and noting his last nights sudden departure, dissembling as though hee had not known him, spēt the rest of that day in company of Dionisius. Leda likewise being returned vnto her mistris Laurana, told her all the speaches that Parismus had with her, and deliuered the letter he had sent: which when she had receiued, shee went into her closet, and with great ioy opened the same, and found the contents to be these.

[Page] When Laurana had read the Letter, shee began to medi­tate with her selfe how shee should accomplish his request, in such sort, that it might no way blemish her honour, nor giue him cause to suspect that she were light, to be so easily perswa­ded, for shee esteemed her credit more then her life, and his loue more then both. At last shee resolued to answer his Letter, and giue directions to Leda how he should come to talke with her, and no man priuy thereto but themselues: and calling Leda, told her that shee should deliuer the answer to the Prin­ces Letter, and withall this message. That if hee would take the paines the next night, he should finde her in the Arbour at the farther end of the Garden, that was vnder the window, a­bout midnight, vpon condition that her maide Leda might be with her, and that hee should bring no man with him, for that he might easily come thither without danger. Leda being vp earely, hyed her with all speed to Parismus Chamber, where being come, shee deliuered the message Laurana gaue her in charge, which reioiced Parismus to heare, and withall the an­swer to this Letter, which when hee had receiued, at the first he was vnwilling to teare the Seale that her sweet hand had impressed: oft viewing the superscription, but hoping the con­tents within would bring more ease to his heart, then the out­ward view, he opened the same, and read as followeth.

Parismus was so rauisht with this curteous reply, that hee estéemed himself the fortunatest man liuing, a thousand times kissing & reading those sweet lines, that in his fancy [...]e neuer felt any ioy comparable to this his sweet meditation, shewing Oristus the sacred lines & swéet message Laurana had sent, wil­ling him to be ready to go with him to the place appointed, but vnseene, lest that the Princesse should blame him for not fulfil­ling her command. Thus spending the day which he thought to be longer then three daies, he againe returned to his chāber, esteeming the time too long, and a thousand times wishing the approach of the appointed houre. Laurana in the meane time, being not vnmindfull of her promise, only with Leda was gon down into the gardē, by a doore that opened out of her lodging: where being come, Scinthias was proud to giue light vnto her maiesticall presence, and by the cleerenesse of her splendor, had any beheld her, she might haue beene esteemed to surpasse the comelinesse of Diana, walking in her chaste conceits. [Page] Parismus somewhat before the houre, was likewise gone forth in his night gowne, with his sword vnder his arme, and com­ming to the gate hee was wont to goe in at into the Gardeine, found it shut, and hauing no others meanes, hee gotte ouer the wall, and was gotten into a secret place to entertaine loue with a surfetting delight: but when hee beheld his diuine Goddesse enter into the Arbour, his heart was so surprised with ioy, with her presence, that at his comming to her, he could not vtter a word, but with great reuerence taking her tenderly by the soft hand, which he was afraid to touch without her leaue, at last he said, Most vertuous Lady, since it hath pleased you to grant me this excéedsng fauour, I here vowe, that I will not speake a word, nor do any thing that shall not accord with your minde. My Lord, said Laurana, had I not presumed vpon your vertue, I would not thus haue come hither. Which kinde spéech, so much imboldned Parismus, that he imbraced her in his armes and kist her, and sitting downe together, folded each in the others armes. Parismus began to recount vnto her his loue, and how that his comming to Thessaly, was onely to doo her seruice, vowing neuer to depart if she would not accept him for her poore seruant: with many other kind protestations procée­ding from his vnfained affection, that Laurana being wounded with his intreaties, could not chuse but accept of his loue, vtte­ring these speeches.

My Lord, for that I am perswaded of the constancy of your loue, and for that you vouchsafe to profer such kindnesse to me that haue not deserued the same, I will manifest that which rather I should conceale, for that you may suppose my yéelding so soone, might proceed of light bred affection: but my Lord, I assure you, that at such time as I sawe you comming first into this Court, my heart was then suprised, (procured as I thinke by the Destinies) that euer since I haue vowed to rest yours assured to commaund, so that you way pretend my wrong: and therefore committing all that is mine to giue into your handes, I here giue you affurance of truth, and true constant [Page] loue. Thus they spent the night in kinde salutations and cur­teous imbracings, to the vnspeakeable ioy and comfort of them both. Leda all this while walking about the gardens, and care­fully looking about her, espied a light in Oliuiaes Chamber, whereof shee gaue those two Louers intelligence. Parismus thought that newes vnwelcome, whereby being compelled to depart, which was done with much heauinesse, Parismus de­sired to know, when shee would vouchsafe him her presence a­gaine, which shee told him should be at his appointment, for that she now was his to dispose of: so with many a sweet em­bracing they parted. Laurana going into her chamber said, in that she had so soone lost his companie, and could not tell what misfortune might befall him, and glad in heart to recount and think of his passed promise. Parismus quickly got ouer the wal, and was soone safely come to his chamber, where he recounted to Oristus his happy successe in loue, asking his counsell how hee might procure Dionisius good liking, to effect the mariage betwixt them, which first he thought to motion himselfe, then he thought that Dionisius would not like thereof, without the consent of his father first had, and also might blame Laurana of vndutifulnesse, if he knew it were with her priuity. Againe he thought it best to send Oristus into Bohemia, to giue his fa­ther knowledge thereof, and to entreat him to send Embassa­dors to that effect. Contrarily, he thought that in the meane time, some other of greater birth then himselfe, might demand her in marriage of the King, and so haue the first grant, though he were sufficiently assured that Laurana should neuer yeelde her consent. Being in this perplexity, he could not resolue vp­on any thing, but walking in the garden to ease his heart with some recreation, he met the King, with him were the King of Hungaria, the Prince of Sparta, and Sicanus, sonne to the King of Persia, though vnknown. The King for the more honoura­ble entertainment of his guests, made one most royall banquet for all in general: the Quéen, & a gallant traine of beautifull La­dies, were there likewise, which was not a custome amongst [Page] the rest: it fell so out, that Parismus was seated right opposite to the Princesse Laurana, which agreed to his hearts desire, wherby he had meanes to satisfie himselfe with beholding that inestimable Iewell, which as farre excelled all the rest of the Ladies as the Sunne doth the Moone, or white his contrary: who with such comely modesty behaued her self, that her looke did rightly resemble a countenance ful of mild, vertuous pitty, able to rauish a multitude, being also not a little glad, that she had occasion to bestowe a kind looke on her Parismus. Sicanus more narrowly marked Lauranaes behauiour then any other, because his comming was onely to request her in marriage of her father, and though both the young Princes were very cir­cumspect: yet Sicanus curious eye, found, or at lest suspected, that there was some loue betwixt them, which they full little thought of, hauing their hearts busied with more pleasant me­ditations: and euer after that, Sicanus inwardly malised Pa­rismus in his heart.

Dinner being ended, the Knights spent some part of the afternoone in dauncing, when being ended, euery man betooke himselfe to what exercise liked him best. Dionisius and Lord Remus, accompanied the Princesse Laurana, and the Lady Isabella, to their lodgings, which made Sicanus to fret inward­ly, to thinke that Parismus his onely enemy as he thought, had gotten such possession in Lauranaes loue, which might debarre him of his wished hope.

Parismus séeing Lord Remus talking to Isabella, saluted Laurana with these speeches: My deare Lady, although I confesse my selfe farre vnworthy that kindnesse you haue al­ready granted me, yet I humbly request one farther fauour at your hands, which is, that you would vouchsafe to meet me tomorrow night, in that happy place where I receiued the first assurance of your comfortable kindnesse, for my passions are so extreame, that my life would perish, were it not onely maintained by enioying your loue, where I would impart a secret to you, that now I haue no time to vtter.

[Page] My Lord said Laurana, you need not vse such intreaties to her, that is not vnwilling, neither hath she power to deny your request. The Queen comming into the place where they were, caused Parismus with a heauy sigh to depart, and Lord Remus with him, betwixt whom there began a firme league of friend­ship. Now Lord Remus beare great affection to the Lady Isa­bella, and had oftentimes solicited his suit vnto her, which she in a manner yeelded vnto, which made Parismus the rather chuse him for his companion, by kéeping him company, to haue the oftner accesse vnto Laurana. The King of Hungaria, the Prince of Sparta, and Sicanus, were walked into the Garden, where they were encountred by the king, vnto whom the king of Hungaria began to declare how that the Prince of Sparta and himselfe had a matter to treate with his Maiestie, if hee would vouchsafe them audience, from the mighty King of Persia, who hauing a great desire to be allyed to him, and ha­uing hard manifold reports of the vertuous Laurana, had sent them to intreat a marriage betwixt her and Sicanus, his sonne and heire of Persia, who was there present with them, though vntill this time vnwilling to make himselfe known. Dionisius most kindly embraced him, telling him, that he thought him­selfe much honoured with his company, and that since it plea­sed his father to treat of alliance betwixt them, he would giue his consent willingly, so that he would first get his daughters good will, whom he would not willingly match contrary to her liking, promising to vse his commandement vnto her for per­formance thereof. For which Sicanus thanked him. Thus ha­uing spent the day in this and such like talke, supper was rea­dy: which being ended, they betooke themselues to their lod­gings.

CHAP. V.

EArely in the morning Dionisius sent a mes­senger, to will Laurana to come to him. Laurana maruelling at her Fathers sud­daine sending for her, suspected that hee had heard some newes of her loue to Paris­mus, otherwise she could not tell what the cause might be, but making her selfe ready, presently came to him: hauing reuerently done her duty, he vsed these speeches vnto her.

Laurana, my chiefest care is, to sée thee married according to thy state, which hath made me send for thee, to know whe­ther that thou hast already placed thy affection or no: otherwise there is come into this Country, a King of great estate and honourable parts, sonne and heire to the King of Persia, who concealed himself vntil yesterninght, in whose behalfe the king of Hungaria, and the Prince of Sparta, are come from his Fa­ther to craue thee in marriage. Now if thou canst fancy him, thou shalt highly honour thy self, haue an honourable husband and reioice my heart to see thee so well matched before my death, which will come very shortly: I haue giuen my consent, so it be with thy liking: for so dearely I loue thee, that I would as well haue thy fancy pleased, as mine owne minde satisfied, therefore let me know thy minde.

Laurana answered, My deare Lord and Father, I humbly thanke you for the manifold benefits receiued by your fauour, being yet at libertie from all, knowing it my dutie to haue your consent before I would presume to match my selfe, tru­sting [Page] that I shall so place my affections, as shall be agréeable to your pleasure. Well, do so then said her father, and this was the cause I sent for you. Laurana departed with a heauie heart, wishing that the time of Parismus comming were at hand, that she might impart this newes vnto him, which grie­ [...]d her, and she knewe would not please him, resoluing with her selfe neuer to giue consent. After dinner, Laurana by the commaundement of Oliuia the Quéene, accompanied the Ladie Isabella, by meanes whereof, Sicanus had occasion to court her whome hée found of so milde behauiour, and yet so farre differing from his minde, that hée saw no likelihood of attaining her loue. His importunate demaunds (which he buil­ded vpon her fathers promise, and his owne hope of assurance) she answered so wisely and curteously, that his loue thereby en­creased, but his hope was no whit augmented, that séeing such a vertuous resolution, or in maner absolute deniall to his sute, he was perswaded, Parismus was the onely man that hinde­red his loue, which the rather vexed him, because hée sawe his vertues of euery man commended, and himselfe by the beauty of his excelent gifts disgraced, y^t euer after he sought all meanes he could to worke his harme. And fearing that he should be frustrated of his expectation, began very narrowly to prie into the behauiour of Laurana towards Parismus, that they coulde at no time talke, if hée were in companie, but would still bée attentiue to their spéeches, nor seldome were they at any time togither, but hée would be in their companie, dissembling a countenance of great frindship to Parismus, hauing tha grea­ter occasion to crosse their loues, because of the motion hée had made to Dionisius, and of the kings spéech to Laurana. In this sort he continued his iealous behauiour, yet farre from the least hope of procuring Lauranas fauour. The wished time of these two Princesse appointed méeting being come, Parismus secretly leaping the wall which parted him from his delight, [...]ound Leda all alone attending his comming, and asking her where her mistresse was, she told him shée staied in her cham­ber [Page] for him, which she thought to be y^e fittest place for their pri­uate conference, for that she was now fully assured of his ho­nourable meaning, so directing him the way, he quickely found Laurana, who was come to the staites head to meete him, whom he kindly saluted, and she as louingly welcomed him, spending their time in sweet gréetings, but farre from any thought of vnchastenesse, their imbracings beeing grounded vpon the most vertuous conditions that might be: and sit­ting together vpon the beddes side, Laurana taking Parismus by the hand, the teares standing in her eies, told him all the speeches her father had vsed vnto her, and of Sicanus loue, re­peating to him all that had passed betwixt them, which ex­treamely gréeued Parismus to heare, not that hee doubted her change, but for that hee was thereby disappointed of the first grant from Dionisius, whom he was fully perswaded would haue giuen his consent. Deare Lady (said Parismus) since these mischances are vnfortunately happened, I know not how to remedy them: but it resteth only in your power, either by gran­ting him loue, and so to destroy me, or still continue your sauo­rable kindnesse towards me, and thereby purchase displeasure of your parents, which would be more greeuous vnto me then death. My Lord, replied Laurana, you néede not vse these spee­ches, or any way trouble your mind, for I promise and protest, that the losse or displeasure of my friends, nor any other misery or torment whatsoeuer, shall make me any way infringe that promise I haue made to you: for your loue is more dearer vn­to me then my life: but I desire you to tell me how I may any way worke your content, and I will doe it? More shee would haue spoken, but the Christall teares that fell from her eies, and extreame hearts sorrow, to sée Parismus so sad, stopt her speech, who likewise was drawn into such admiratiō to think of her kindnesse, that he could vse no words to comfort her, but with his chéeke wiped away the wet teares that bedeawed her face, and bestowed swéet kisses on her corall couloured lips. At last he said, Deare Laurana, deare Laurana, I would desire you [Page] not to thinke, that I any way cal your loyalty in question, but vsed those spéeches only to assure you, that whatsoeuer pleaseth you, I count my greatest blisse: but since you vouchsafe to grant me that fauour, to be content to endure your Parents displeasure for my sake, that am vnworthy of that kindnesse, I will heereafter so fully rest at your command to doe whatso­euer lieth in my small power, that you shall say Parismus is not vnwilling, though vnable to be sufficiently thākful. Thus thinking too much of their stole time, spēt about those vnplea­sant newes, they began to vse words of more comfort, which were such as porceeded from the kindest friendship that might be. For so pleasantly swéet were their louely ioies, and true hearted meanings, that it far surpassed the admirable kindnes of Louers, but might be tearmed the true substance of perfect pleasure: wherein these two harmelesse soules continued the greatest part of the night with such ioy, that had Sicanus, who most enuied Parismus, séene and beheld them, he would neuer haue attempted to part such knide friendship. Now the dismall houre of their parting being approached, by reason of the light that the Sunne began to giue vnto the Chamber, Parismus ta­king Laurana in his armes, drawing sweete breath from her lippes, told her that now (to his griefe) he most leaue her to be courted by his enemy Sicanus, relating vnto her the long wars that had passed betwixt their fathers, and the late peace that was conciuded, and how that he knew Sicanus at his first comming into Thessaly, desiring her to let him vnderstand such newes from her as did concerne their loue, which she pro­mised him she would, and withall, that she would neuer yéeld to loue him that was an enemy to Parismus, but would hate her owne heart, if it should but thinke a thought to wrong him. Thus a thousand times imbracing each other, they parted, he to his lodging, and shee to her rest.

CHAP. VI.

THe next morning, Sicanus sought all the meanes he could to sollicit his loue againe, but Lauranas vsed the matter in such sort that shee kept her chamber three or foure daies, to the ende hee should haue no oc­sion to speake to her, which made him al­most mad, and seeing himselfe frustrated of his desire that way, his minde being apt for any impression, began to deuise how he might either finde out the cause of Lauranaes strangenesse, or reuenge himselfe on Parismus, whom he thought was the onely man that hindred him in his loue. And studying how to bring that about, hee began to weigh how greatly Parismus was estéemed of Dioni­sius, and that his vertues made him so well beloued of all, that to offer him abuse openly, euery one would condemne him, and thereby his honour sh [...]uld the more encrease, and he him­selfe be euill thought of by Dionisius, and contemned by Lau­rana, and yet nothing the nearer his purposed determination. At length giuing his minde ouer vnto all wickednes, and cru­elty, he thought the best course he had, was to murther him by some trechery, therefore calling vnto him three of his ser­uants being Taxtarians, he vsed a long circumstance of kind speeches vnto them, promising that if they would deuise some meanes how to reuenge him on an enemy that had done him great iniury, hee would preferre them to great dignity, when he returned into his owne Countrey, and in the meane time, he would giue them a thousand pounds amongst them, for [Page] their maintenance. These villaines being gréedie of gaine and pre [...]erment, being poore and needy, sware that they would per­forme whatsoeur he commanded them, so they might know the man. Sicanus therefore giuing them the many, told them that it was Parismus, who had la [...]e done him a monstrous iniurie: (at whose name the villaines beganne to stare one vpon an­other, as though they had repented them of their promise) and that, when as custome was, he rode foorth on hawking, they might wait opportunity vntill he was alone, and then accom­plish their intended murther, without suspition. These vil­laines being fully bent vpon their intended mischiefe, beeing heathens, therefore the more easily drawn with the hope of re­ward to any treachery, awaited their conuenient time, with vnmoueable resolution. Parismus being all that day in compa­ny of the king & other nobles, hauing giuen his mind to quiet­nesse, for that hee was fully assured of Lauranas fauour, no­thing doubting the reason of Sicanus, told Dionisius, that her intended to go on hawking, desiring him to vouchsafe to sée his Falcon flie, which Dionisius promised to do, for that his hawk was estéemed the best of all other. Likewise Sicanus, the King of Hungaria, and the Prince of Sparta, would beare him company. The next morning very earely, King Dionisius, Parismus, and the rest of the company, addressed them­selues to that pastime, and hauing spent most part of the day, towards the Euening, Parismus lost his Hawke, which hee loued exceeing well, beeing procured by a tempest that suddenly arose, and thereby beeing wandred from the rest of the company, chanced to heare the noise of her Belles, as he thought in the Wood heard by, where he could not ride, and therefore alighted from his horse, and got in on foot: where hee was not entered farre, but those villaines that Sicanus had hired, hauing followed him all that day, and now thinking & finding this the fittest opportunity to execute their purpose, were come into the wood, and hard at Parismus héeles, who espying them, looking with gastfull coūtenances as he thought [Page] and with their weapons about them, (the villaines indéede be­ing amazed with his very countenance, began to cal to remem­brance the late mischance that Osiris had receiued in the same place: but that thought was soone extinct, for that hée knewe them to be Sicanus seruants: at last hée asked them if they had not séene his hawke, they answered not a word: but one of them sta [...]ed about, as if hée heard her néere hand, which caused Paris­mus to looke diligently the same way. And in the meane time, one of them drawing his sworde, strooke Parismus so violently vpon the head, that hée being beare-headed, by reason of the heate, the blow hauing nothing to mittigate the force thereof, so grieuously wounded him, that he fell to the earth: and before he could recouer himselfe, and withall being disfurnished of his weapon (for otherwise those thrée could not haue withstood his force) they had giuen him two or thrée mortall wounds: and se­ing that hée was now not able to resist them, they began to con­sult what they should doe with his body. In the meane time, Parismus hauing gotten breath, began to intreate them to spare his life (for threates in such a case would not auaile) promising to reward them with great kindnesse, if they would not mur­ther him: perswading them withall, that this their déede would be knowne, for that such wickednesse is commonly reuealed, and alwaies grieuously punished: and hée that had set them a­bout that villanie, would alwayes hate them in his heart, al­though outwardly hée might pretend a shew of friendship, tel­ling them that hée was a Prince, [...]nd able to preferre & pleasure them, promising them that they should not néede to feare Sica­nus displeasure, if they would saue his life, and all men would hate them for destroying him, & on the otherside all men would commend them, for being so pitifull as to spare his life, that had neuer offended thē. Al these perswasions could nothing preuail, but without making him any answer, thrust their swords into his body in diuers places: that now thinking him dead, they co­uered him with mosse and leaues, thinking that some wild beast would come and deuour him: his horse they found tied without [Page] the wood, but him they vnbridled, and let go, to auoyd suspition: their own weapons they sunke in the bottome of a déepe poole of water that was by the woods side, and so departed. While they were striuing with Parismus in this sort, it chanced y^t there was a knightas he séemed in armour, that heard the noice, & hasting by guesse so well as he could to the place, at last he came to the place where Parismus lay couered, and looking about hee could sée no body, but might perceiue the earth troden, & all to be smea­red with blood, and the mosse torne vp, and remooued from his naturall place, and looking attentiuely, he sawe the lumpe of mosse & leaues, where vnder Parismus lay couered, which was the onely preseruation of his life: for the mosse lying close about him, kept the ayre frō foorth his woundes, otherwise he had pe­rished. The knight remoouing the leaues, found the body of the goodliest man that euer he beheld, most gréeuously wounded, and gasping foorth his latest breath of life, which mollified the knights hart, that he vsed al y^e meanes he could to recouer him: but laboring in vaine to bring him to his senses, yet hée might perceiue the breath to steal forth by litle & litle out of his mouth, that he was perswaded he was not past helpe, therefore taking Parismus in his armes, he conueied him vnto the place of his a­bode, which was within those woods: now you must vnderstād that this knight was one of the company of those outlawes that kept in that wood, being driuen to liue in such obscure sort for feare of punishment, for diuers outrages they had committed: and taking felicitie in that kinde of life, continued a great fra­ternitie amongst them, being the very same that had wounded Osiris, one of Dionisius knights (as is before rehearsed) amōgst whome we wil leaue Parismus, to declare what hapned to Dio­nisius, who greatly maruelled that when the day was ended, Parismus was not returned, which made him & the rest (Sica­nus excepted) diuer [...]y coniecture: most thinking that he was gone astray, & being vnacquainted, might be gone to the palace not knowing which way to return to y^e place where he left thē. Sicanus likewise séemed as carefull as the rest. At last by the [Page] nights approach, they all departed towards the Cittie: where when they were arriued, Dionisius enquiring very earnestly for Parismus returne, could heare no newes thereof. That ha­uing no other thought to be pacified withal, he was perswaded that he might be gone so farre in search of his hawke, that hée could not attaine to the Cittie that night, and therefore might lodge by the way, and so come home the next morning. Thus with this hopefull perswasion, being perswaded for the time, they betooke thēselues to their rest. Sicanus being gladded with the newes of Perismus want, called[?] those thrée actors of his most desperate and wicked confederacie vnto him, and inqui­red what they had done, who certified him of all their villanous exployt, being no way suspected of any such fact, to whome hée yéelded many dishonourable thankes for so impious a déede. Thus all continued in good hope, vntill the next Morning, which being come, and most of the day spent, there was no suc­cesfull newes of Parismus returne, but all his men were come, and no man but himselfe alone mussing: that Dionisius being therewith wonderfully greeued, and vexed in his minde, spee­dily caused a hundred knights to make all diligent search and inquirie that might be, to heare of him, who were all most willing, bearing an inward loue to y^e yong Prince aboue al the knights that euer arriued in Thessaly. The Bohemian knights likewise made such lamentation for their Lord, that it was snooe blazed to the hearing of all the Court, and Cittie, that Parismus was not returned from hawking: which at last came to the hearing of Laurana: who at the fist newes thereof, was so tor­mented in her thoughts, that shee could not containe her selfe from bewraying her loue by extreame complaints, as also by the manifolde questiones and enquiries shée made, with whome hée went, how long they mist him, and where, when and how they lost his company: shewing an extraordinarie care of his welfare, that being driuen into a thousand sundrie doubts of his welfare, as also to thinke what should become of him, she could inioy no quiet nor content: but her greatest cōfort [Page] was, that shée still hoped she should heare some newes of his re­turne, by such knights as were gone in search of him: amōgst whom were his owne knights: whose care she thought would be greater then any others for his preseruation.

Oristus likewise tooke his want in such heauinesse, that hée séemed to be out of his wits by extreame sorrow. Sicanus ha­uing now accomplished the thing hée purposed, vsed oftentimes to visit Laurana, and earnestly prosecuted his former sute, wherewith Laurana was so much grieued (to remember any other loue then Parismus, or to thinke that any other should of­fer Parismus that wrong) that she shewed her selfe so vertu­ously disdainfull to the Persians sute, and séemed so little to regard his words and protestations, that hée began to dispaire of obtaining her good will: yet he was still comforted in this, that he had her parents consent, which might be a mean to pro­cure her liking: besides, he thought the greatnesse of his birth might be a great helpe to his furtherance.

Dionisius, Oliuia, and the rest, were diuersly gréeued to thinke of Parismus losse, whome they all déemed to be fallen in­to some disaduenture, otherwise they could not imagine what might be the occasion of his stay: so that the whole court in ge­nerall, was driuen into such sadnesse, that it séemed not like the same it was wont to be: especially the King and Quéene tooke it so heauily, that their ioy was wholly turned to sorrowe, and their pleasant countenances into sad lookes: but yet all conti­nued in hope to heare some newes of him, by the returne of such as were gone in search of him, who most of them returned within some thrée or foure dayes. Oristus being yet behinde, at last returned, hauing by diligent enquiry found the stéed wher­on Parismus rode, who was taken vp some twentie miles di­stant from the place where these villaines had left him: this augmented their griefe, when they saw all that were in search of him. returned with no good newes, and Oristus, the last of their hope, in stéed of ioyfull tidings, bringing further cause of sorrowe, in that they were fully assured by finding the Horse [Page] whereon he rode, and he by no meanes to be heard of, that hée was fallen into the hands of such as had murthered him, or by some misaduenture might be deuoured by some wilde beast, that had seized on him vnawares, that in generall, al made such sorrow for the losse of so vertuous a Princes, that it was to be wondred at, that a man in so short a time of acquaintance, could behaue himselfe so vertuously, as to be so well beloued of all: Laurana exempting her selfe from all quiet, and banishing from her mind all mirth and ioy: withall, hearing the newes Oristus had brought, fell into such an extreame passion of griefe, for that a good space, she continued as one wholly depriued of life, and notwithstanding Leda and the rest of her maydes, vsed all the skill they had, yet could by no meanes bring her againe, that with wringing their hands, tearing their haire, and with grée­uous acclamation, they made such an outcrie, that the bruite thereof came to the hearing of the King and Quéene, and all the rest, by which occasion a new sorrow began, farre aboue compare: by that time the King and Quéene were come into her Chamber, the Princesse began somewhat to come to her selfe, when heauily lifting vp her eyes, with a gréeuous sigh looking vpon her father and mother, with such a pittifull coun­tenance (that they could not refraine from teares,) still looking earnestly about her, to sée if Parismus were yet returned: at last being fully recouered, Dionisius asking her what might be the cause of this her suddaine sicknesse, and if it laye in his power to comfort her, she might be fully assured he would not deny her any thing. Laurana knéelingdowne, thinking to haue spoken somewhat, was so ouercome with the remembrance of her, deare friends want, and extreame sorrowe so fully possest her hart, that her spéech was turned into teares, which abundantly fell from her eyes, which draue the King and Quéene into such sorrow, that their hearts could not indure to sée her heauinesse, and therefore left her with the maides. When all were de­parted and she alone with Leda, she began to lament in this manner.

[Page] Unhappie wretch that I am, to what a miserable staie am I brought, that haue lost my greatest comfort. & the onely main­tainer of my blisse, without whose comfortable presence, I neither can, nor will enioy my vnfortunate life. Noble and most vertuous Prince, what is becōe of you? what misaduen­ture hath befallen you? what tyrant coulde be so barbarous as to do you iniurie? what creature so inhumaine, as to wish your harme? or what minde so malicious, as not to wish your good? Woe is me for the losse of my Parismus, heauinesse is my delight, care and sorrowe shall be welcome to me, till my Parismus returne: O no, my heart giues me, hée will neuer returne, hée is surely dead by some vntimely accident, or hée would not thus long haue bene absent from me. My deare Parismus, would I were with you, wheresoeuer you are, then would my heart be at quiet, then should I be happie, then should I be rid from feare, from griefe, care, sorrow, and paine, for in you onely is my comfort, ioy, pleasure, quiet, and delight. In these and such like plaints, shée would haue continued still, but that Leda comforted her with all the perswasions that shée could deuise, telling her that shée ought not to gréeue so much, for that hée might safely returne againe, and that hée might ab­sent himselfe for sundrie and speciall causes, not yet knowne to her: vsing many other deuices, to drawe her from that ex­tremitie of sorrowe, in whi [...] estate she continually remained: but yet somewhat [...] with hope of his returne, being thereto perswaded by the spéeches of Leda, who vsed the same onely to asswage her mistresse sorrowe, though her selfe had no hope at all euer to sée him againe.

Parismus being all this while amongst the Out-lawes, (who kept themselues in a Caue, that they had secretly and ar­tificiall made, vnder the side of a hill in the middest of the [...]ood, where they coulde hardly bée founde by any, and therefore there they thought themselues very secure: (which were the same that had wounded the Knight Osiris, and had [Page] with them Dina the virgin, in whose rescue Osiris was hurt: yet by Osiris meanes shée was preserued from the outrage that was intended to her: for whose Outlawes were without a cab­taine, and therefore thought themselues equalles, which happe­ned wel for the virgin, for one of them that came forth with the noise of Osiris and the others fight, tooke such liking of her, that hée reprooued the others cruelty, telling him, that it were a vil­lainous act to defloure a virgin that had not offended him: by whose perswasions he resisted from further crueltie, and carri­ed the maiden to their caue, where shée was appointed to dresse such prouision as they brought in, which she willingly did, to defend her selfe from further iniurie. Parismus comely propor­tion made him so wel liked of all of them, who séemed to them to bée a man of good account by his apparell, and in time they thought might do them many pleasures: therefore they com­maunded this virgin to vse all her skill and indeuoures, to re­couer him, and heale his woundes: who within two daies by her diligent indeuour, had brought him to his sences, that hée began to speake to them: which reioyced them to heare: who being thus well recouered, wondred into what place hée was brought, because it was darke, and in a caue, hauing in his pre­sence a company of rude and [...]hag haired fellowes, and onely one woman, could not fully perswaide himselfe, but that he was metamorphosed: but being of a manly courage, he boldly de­maunded of them, how hée came to that place, and what they were that had thus preserued his life? At last he that had broght him thither, told him, that walking into the wood, being direc­ted by a noyse that he heard, hée found him couered with mosse and leaues, almost past all hope of life, and pitying his distresse, hée had brought him vnto that place, being all the habitation they had, for that they were such as wanted wealth, and were driuen to take that course of life, to maintaine thēselues with­all: and that hée was by the diligent paines of that virgine, brought vnto the good estate hée was in, and that their purpose was, to elect him for their Captaine, for that they thought very [Page] well of him.

Parismus thanked him, telling them withall, that hee was a Trauailer, and had lost his way in those woods, and meeting with some of their company (as hee thought) was by them le [...] in the case they found him, without any cause of offence that he had done thē. Thus ceasing to commune any further with them, he began to meditate how fortunately God had ordai­ned him to be preserued by them, (that had destroied many) to liue in hope to be reuenged on Sicanus, that had so disho­nourably pretended his ruine: that seeing himselfe in good e­state of recouery, he vsed all kinde meanes hee could to pur­chase the good opinion of all those Outl-awes whom he durst not trust, because their mindes were addicted to villany, but most of all, he maruelled why so beautifull a Damosell should frequent their company. On a time when Parismus saw all the Out-lawes gone out of the Caue, and hee left alone with Dina, he enquired of her of whence shee was, and why shee li­ued there, hauing also marked her behauiour towards them, he did wonder at her vertues, whereby she refelled the wicked behauiour of those rude people. Shee told him that shee was daughter vnto a Knight of the Prouince of Salmatia, whom one of those Outlaws had violently taken forth of her fathers Orchard, in reuenge of a wrong he said her brother had done him: withall she told him the whole manner of her comming thither. Whereby Parismus vnderstood, that she was the very same, in whose rescue Osiris was hurt.

By this time the Outlawes were come in, whereby the Uirgin left off her speech, bringing in with them good store of money which they had taken from honest passengers. Paris­mus lying very weake, yet marked wel their behauiour, which made him maruell that men could be so inhumane, as by their owne reports they seemed to be, wishing himselfe with Laura­na, who he thought would accuse him of disloialty, or that hee made choise of some other: if shee did not so misdoubt him, then the sorrow he thought she endured for his losse, which [Page] might some way come to her knowledge, so galled him to the heart, that his inward passions would not suffer his outward physicke to doe him any good, and the continual care he was in did much hinder his health: being likewise as much tormented with remembrance of the grant that Dionisius had made to Sicanus, concerning the marriage twixt him and Laurana, who he thought might now be inforced to yeelde her consent, when she was out of hope of recouering him: this griefe farre exceeded all the rest, that all the whole company began to note his sorrow, for he was scarce able to containe himselfe within the bounds of reason. In these perplerities he continued by the space of three months, in all which time, he could not fully re­couer his health. Where we will leaue him, to speake of Dioni­sius, who by tract of time, hauing somewhat mittigated the re­membrance of Parismus want, (most of his Knights being de­parted home into Bohemia, Oristus onely excepted, who by no meanes could be drawne to leaue Thessaly, because there he had lost his Lord) began to conferre about the marriage of Laurana, being often importuned by Sicanus, who caused the King of Hungaria, and the Prince of Sparta, to be earnest sol­liciters in his behalfe: at whose instance, Dionisius promised to giue them answere the next day: therefore sending for Laurana, he demanded of her how shee fancied Lord Sicanus, who was a most honourable Gentleman, and one euery way worthy to be beloued, telling her that he had giuen his sul cō ­sent, and therefore it stood not with her vertue to séeme strange or shew her selfe vndutifull. Laurana hearing her fathers spee­ches, being much amazed, stood still and gaue no answer a good space; at last kneeling downe, shee began in this sort: I most humbly intreat your Maiesty, to vouchsafe to heare my words with patience, and not to impute any thing I shall desire at your highnesse hands, to vndutifulnesse: I cannot as yet fan­cy the Prince, though I confesse my selfe farre vnworthy the honour you proffer me, but haue presumed (vpon your fauou­rable promise, not to marry me to any without my liking,) to [Page] fuse the offer Sicanus maketh, for that my fancy perswaded me, he shall bring some sorrow to your highnesse, and al the rest of this Court and Countrey: as also for that I am vnwilling to this with my better, but would intreate your maiesty (if your highnesse will needs haue me marry) rather to bestow mee on some honourable Gentleman of my degree, but most of all my desire is to continue this my happy life, wherein I entend (with your gracious liking) to spend the length of my daies.

Dionisius wondring to heare her answer, began to waxe somewhat angry with her, and told her, that it was his plea­sure shee should marry with him, and he would haue it so. My deare Lord and Father, quoth shée (because I am yours whol­ly to dispose of) I humbly craue that I may haue a monthes respite to aduise my selfe, and then I will accomplish your de­mand: which he granted, and so left her. Laurana being a­lone, began to weigh in what estate she was, and how to auoid this iniurie the should doe to her selfe, for her honourable pro­mise past to Parismus, and to him for his loue, that she deter­mined, rather to destroy her selfe, then yéeld to marry him, whom she accounted her deare loues enemy: and with this re­solution went to her lodging.

Sicanus the next morning attended Dionisius answer, who told him, that his daughter had giuen her consent, vpon con­dition he would grant her a months respite to consider of her duty therein: wherewithall he was highly contented, being now fully assured (as he thought) of his desire, and began more boldly to visit Laurana, who little esteemed his friendship, though he vsed her kindly, but farre from any shew of loue, to the intent to breed no suspition in him, of that shee inten­ded.

CHAP. VII.

WHilest these things were acting, it happe­ned (contrary to Sicanus expectation, who now thought all things so buried in for­getfulnesse, that his treachery could by no meanes be reuealed) that the Tarrrians which murthered Parismus, beganne to contend about the money Sicanus had giuen them, in so much, that one of them strooke the other such a blow on the head, that he had wel-néere slaine him, and would haue strucke him againe, but that by chance Oristus comming by, reprooued the other that had strooke his fellow, and defended him that was already woun­ded from further harme: and diuers other of Dionisius knights comming together, they conueied him that was hurt into a Chamber, and the other was carried before the king, to be exa­mined vpon what occasion hee did strike him: who answered Diomsius, that he would not be examined of any but his owne Prince, which made Dionisius the more earnest to know the cause: therefore willed Lord Remus to intreat Sicanus to come vnto him to end a doubt, which none but he could decide. Si­canus maruelling what the cause should be, immediatly came, but seeing one of the Tartarians that he had hired to murther [Page] Parismus, standing before the King, began to feare (according to the guiltinesse of his conscience) that his treason was be­wraied: notwithstanding, he demanded why he had so woun­ded his fellow: the villaine being amazed to see his master so ready to examine him, and not rather to excuse him, could not readily tell what to say, but in that little respit of deliberation, he answered, that he had done him wrong, & that was the cause he had strooke him: which words he vttered with great feare, staring vpon Sicanus (as if he should haue instructed him what to say.) Dionisius noting Sicanus countenance, & the villaines answer, whom Sicanus would examine no further, began to misdoubt some former mischiefe had bred this contention, com­manded the other Tartarian that was wounded to be brought before him, who feeling himselfe almost past estate of life, con­fest the cause why thy fell out, and how that they had the mo­ney of Sicanus, for murthering Parismus, whose want was procured by their meanes. Sicanus standing by, and hearing his speech, suddenly drew his dagger and stabbed him, before he could vtter any more of his treachery. Which so amazed all the company, that a good space they knew not what to say: at last Oristus (being filled with fury) boldly stept to Sicanus, and challenged him as a villen & traitor, for conspiring his ma­sters death, who being likewise moued with rage, strooke at Oristus, to haue stabbed him likewise: but he easily auoided the blow, and with his fist strooke him with such violence, that the blood ran aboundantly from his mouth, which his knights perceiuing, began to draw vpon Oristus, who had beene their flaine, but that many of Dionisius knights (deerely louing Pa­rismus, and hearing the villaines cōsession) likewise drew, and assailed the Persian Knights, so fiercely, that many of them were wounded, and Sicanus himselfe had there died, had hee not fled. And notwithstanding Dinisius laboured all that hee could to pacifie this vprore, yet before he could doe it, three of Sicanus Knights were flaine, and the rest fled with their ma­eer. After the tumult was appeased, Dionisius began to exa­mine [Page] the matter more narrowly, and found by all circumstan­ces the Tartarian had said true. Sicanus with great hazard of his life, hauing escaped out of the Court, with some forty in his company, being ashamed (as knowing himselfe guil­ty of the fact,) with all the haste that hee could, got to the harbour where his Shippe lay, and with all speede hoised saile, not once taking his leaue of the King, which was a suffient perswasion to all, that Parismus by his meanes was murthered, the remembrance whereof began their sorrow a fresh.

The King of Hungaria, and Prine of Sparta, beeing much ashamed of Sicanus behauiour, in whose company they came, desired Dionisius not to impute his impiety any way to their dishonour, for that they would foreuer abhorre him for that monstrous act, and rest ready to defend him, if euer he should stand in need of their aide, to reuenge this iniury: who de­termined to stay still with Dionisius, if they could, to driue out of his minde the remembrance of this mischance. Dioni­sius being most extreamely ouercome with rage, and griefe, be­ganne to take the murther of Parismus with such sorrow, that he determined to spend the rest of his daies out of the com­pany of all men, and the next morning (giuing delay no scope to hinder his purpose) hauing disguised himselfe that he could not bee knowne, in Palmers weedes, hee depar­ted secretly from the Court: and first tooke his course to trauell into Bohemia, to heare whether Parismus Father had knowledge of the death of his sonne, or no. Dinner time being come, Dionisius was wanting, which made the Queene maruell, for that he was not wont to bee absent, but thinking hee was gone alone by himselfe to meditate, made no great enquiry: but after Dinner, going her selfe to seeke him, could by no meanes finde him, which made her make open enquiry, yet none could heare of him, that vpon the sudden there beganne such an vproare (when they had searched all the Place, Gardens, Orchardes, walkes, and [Page] euery place) such acclamations, such lamentation, and such outcries, that all seemed comfortlesse, yea, rather madde and lunatike: some running this way, some that way, euery one carefully to doe his best, yet all to no effect, which both made the Quéene, the King of Hungaria, the Prince of Sparta, and all the rest, in that miserable estate of misdoubt, that they neither could tell what to doe, nor what to coniecture of his absence, seating least Sicanus had likewise by some villany, procured his death. Diuers Knights went in search of him, but could not finde him, and yet saw him, but knew him not: for they often met with him in Palmers dis­guise, and asked him for himselfe, which made him oftentimes in minde to returne, but yet his former determination conti­nued firme.

These newes of Sicanus departure, and of Dionisius want happened in two daies, yet neither of them was come to the knowledge of Laurana, who absented her selfe from all com­pany, by reason of the extreame care shee endured for Paris­mus: Sicanus treason, and Parismus murther was concealed from her by Leda, who loued her dearely, and therefore would not suffer it to come to her hearing: but contrary to Lauranaes thought, and Ledaes expectation, Oliuia the Quéene came to her lodging, wringing her hands, and making a great lamen­tation, and espying her, said: O daughter, what shall betide vs? that villaine Sicanus hauing murthered Parismus, hath likewise destroyed thy Father. Laurana hearing her mothers speeches, stood as one amazed, not once sitting, speaking, or mouing hereie: at last thinking it was strange newes to bee true, said; déere mother, I trust these vnwelcome newes cannot be true, nor that your grace speaketh of proofe: whereupon the Quéene told her all that had happened to Parismus, by Sicanus procurement, wherewith Laurana (not beeing able to heare the rest that her Mother would haue vttered) im­mediately fel downe amongst the Ladies dead, who indeauou­red to recouer her, but were not able to bring her to life againe, [Page] by the space of halfe an houre, which began a new sorrow a­mongst them, shee seeming to be past all hope of recouery: all being tired with extreame griefe, gaue their mindes no respite to consider of the aduersity they were in, but stil continued ma­king such lamentations, as the place seemed a desolate habita­tion of sorrow. Laurana at length comming to her selfe, could not yet vtter a word, for the extreamity of care had such full possession in her heart, that she could neither ease it by lamen­tation, nor teares, that all the whole company were constrai­ned to employ their best endeauours to remedy this present euill, the last of there hope: for if shee had perished, the heire of Thessalie had beene lost. Lord Remus beeing a man of great wisdome and gouernment, began to weigh the fickle estate of the people and Countrey, who hauing beene a long time subiect vnto peace, therefore were not able to endure the brunt of warre, and that it was likely Sicanus would seeke to reuenge himselfe against them, and take, if he could, out of their hands the Princesse Laurana, heire apparant to the Crowne, and thereby get the kingdome into his possession, which the Thessalians could not endure: reuoluing these thoughts in his mind, he came to the Quéen, and the rest of the Nobles, and requested her and them together, to haue some re­gard to their Countrey, and not to shew themselues vnproui­ded to defend themselues from further mischiefe: whose coun­sell all liked well, especially Oliuia, who with the consent of the rest of the Péeres, made him Lord Regent of the Country: vpon which charge committed to him, hee presently gaue or­der for mustring of men, and fortifying of Castles, and places of defence, appointing Captaines and Gouernours, vnder whose charge hee committed those places of defence, and with­in a short space brought all things to such perfection, that the Countrey was well fortifyed, and able to resist a great e­nemie.

The Quéene being diuersly tormented in thought, now was (by returne of such as were gone in search of the King) [Page] ascertained that he was no where within the bounds of Thes­saly aliue, and therefore assuredly thought hee was dead, which so inwardly tormented her, that shee gaue her selfe onely to mourning, not giuing her minde one minutes respit of quiet, in which estate for a time we will leaue her.

CHAP. VIII^.

AFter that Parismus had well recouered himselfe, being able to walke vppe and downe, hee was desirous to heare some newes from Dionisius Court, but coulde not deuise how to bring the same to effect: but thus fortunately it fell out, those out­lawes were so farre in loue with him, that they with one consent intreated him, that hée would vouchsafe to continue among them, and be their captaine, for that they were without a guide, and thought so well of him, as that aboue all men they were desirous he would bée the man, which hée beganne to refuse, alleaging, that hée being a stranger in that countrey, and vnacquainted with their customes, was altogether vnfit, vsing many rea­sons, as excuses: but considering with himselfe, that it might much auaile him to his purpose, at their intreaties was contented, and so behaued himselfe, that within a very short time, his worde and counsaile was an Oracle amongest them, and by his wisedome hée kept them from dooing much harme, and yet seemed in their fancie to further them greatly.

[Page] Oftentimes hée was in mind to go & make himselfe knowne at the court, and so enioy his mistresse sight, which grieued him to want, but being diuersly minded, at last this was his reso­lution: he fitted himselfe on a day in Palmers wéedes, and dis­guised himselfe so artificially, that (by hi [...] disguise and long sicknesse, which had somewhat altered his complextion) none could any way know him: telling the Out-lawes that he was determined to sée the Court, which he had heard was so fa­mous, and that he would returne at night.

When hée was somewhat néere the Cittie, hée might sée vppon a plaine hard by, great preparation for war, which made him much maruaile, at last comming to the Kings Pallace, he got himselfe vnto the place where Laurana euery morning vsually at her comming from Chappell, gaue her almes, and put himselfe amongst the rest of the Palmers, and being taller then any of them, he was much noted of many: when the prin­cesse came to giue her almes, (being in mourning attire) shée called them all vnto her, and beganne to demaund of whence they were, what Countries they had trauailed, and whether they had heard any newes of Dionisius the King, who was missing: or whether they heard any in their trauaile, speake of the dead bodie of the Prince, which by chance might be found, being murthered by Sicanus of Persia: which wordes she vtte­red with such sorrow, that the teares ran abundantly downe her chéekes.

Parismus being rauished with the sight of his precious Ie­well, and séeing her wéeping for his losse, and withall hearing from her mouth that heanie newes of Dionisius want, could not (though he striued to the vttermost of his power) refraine from letting fall a few teares, which Laurana perceiuing, and viewing him withall, began to feele a suddaine alteration in all her parts, that shee was not in quiet till she had found meanes to commune with him: and giuing all the rest their almes, they departed, but to him she would giue nothing, to the intent hee should stay: but hee seeing the rest gone, was departing with [Page] them, till Leda (being by her Mistresse commaunded) called him backe, whom hee very well knewe, and being returned, Laurana demaunded of him what was the cause that he wept when hee heard her speake of Dionisius losse, and Parismus death.

Parismus, sayde: Most vertuous Ladie, I wept not to heare Parismus named, but to heare of Dionisius losse, for Parismus I knowe is at this present liuing, and in good estate of health, with whom I had some talke within these three weekes, in the Countrey of Salmatia: which was the cause of my comming hither, being sent by him vnto a Ladie in this Court, whom I know not how to speake withall, nor will not name to any.

Laurana hearing the Palmers words, blushed exceeding­ly, and withall, intreated him to tell out his newes, for that it might be, she was the partie Lord Parismus meant: for I am Laurana quoth she, whom Parismus did thinke well of, with that she wept againe.

Parismus knéeling downe saide, then to your Highnesse I will do my message, for vnto you I was sent. Lord Parismus, growing into some good liking of me, and hauing receiued my oath to be his faithfull messenger: willed me to giue your high­nesse this Iewel, whereby you should be assured he was liuing, but constrained to absent himselfe, for causes that hereafter hée will let you vnderstand, hée desired you to let him (though vn­worthy) enioy but the least of your vertuous promises, and he shal euer hereafter account himselfe to haue receiued his life and libertie from you.

Laurana séeing the Iewell which shée well knewe to bée the same shée had before giuen him, and hearing the Palmer credible report, that hée was in perfect health, and beeing fully assured of the truth of that message, by the certaine and firme protestation of the most Noble Paris­mus himselfe, in the disguise of a Palmer: shee was so [Page] surprised with ioy, that she could not refraine from kissing the iewell, saying welcome swéete token from a faithfull friend: and calling Leda vnto her, told her the newes the Palmer had brought, reioycing with such vertuous kindnesse, that Paris­mus thought himselfe the happpyest man liuing to enioy the loue of so vertuous a Lady. Laurana comming to him, tolde him, that she was so much bound vnto him for bringing her those happie newes, that she did not know which way suffici­ently to recompence him for his paines: and were it not (quoth shée) but that I stand in some doubt hereof (as being too good to be true) I should rest in such happy content by thy newes, that no aduersitie whatsoeuer should cause my sorrow, but one­ly his absence, though my fathers losse doth neeerely concerne my happinesse. The Palmer vsed such pro [...] stations, that Laurana could not chuse but beléeue him, as also by reason of the Iewel which she knew she had giuen Parismus. So taking a Iewell from forth her bosome, she gaue the same to him, which he willingly receiued, and kissing her hand departed. When he was out of sight, hée began to meditate of the ver­tues of Laurana, and therein tooke such felicitie, that before he was aware hée met with Oristus, who had bene walking soli­tarily abrode, in such heauinesse, that it would haue caused a­ny to pittie him. Parismus séeing him, was in minde to haue re­uealed himselfe vnto him onely: but being passed by him, hée could not chuse but turne and looke after him, his minde was touched with such kindnesse: but the remembrance of Dioni­sius losse did so much grieue him, that wasting the time with those thoughts, vnawares in a heauie dumpe, hee was suddenly arriued at the Caue, where hee was kindly wel­commed of the Out-lawes, who vsed such commendation of the Court, as it liked them to heare, and tolde vnto them how the king was missing, and no man could tell what was become of him, and that he thought there was some prepara­tion for warres by the mustring of souldiers that he saw before the Citie.

[Page] When he was alone, he beganne to condemne himselfe of hard heartednesse, that seeing the most vertuous Lady liuing to mourne for his losse, yet he being safe and in her sight, would not make himselfe knowne to her, thereby to rid her from her griefe: but yet his comfort was great on the other side, that he sawe her loue so firme, being past all hope of euer seeing him againe, that hee accounted himselfe farre vnworthy the fauour she shewed him, growing so farre in admiration of her constan­cie, that no thought was pleasant, but the remembrance of her loue.

Dionisius as before is saide, hauing met with many of his Knightes that went in search of him, was almost through re­membrance of the sorrow he knew would arise by his absence, altered from his former determination, yet remembring Paris­mus murther, which he knew could not chuse but come to the knowledge of his old friend the King of Bohemia, whereby his honour might be called in question (of which he was iealous) he therefore resolutely determined to trauel thither, and hauing iourneyed many dayes, he arriued in Bohemia, where lighting into company with anancient Palmer of that Countrey, he enquired of him what were the newes at the Bohemians court? who taking Dionisius to be but a Palmer, tolde him that the newes was chiefely of the Prince Parismus, who being in the Court of Dionisius King of Thessaly, was there murthered, or by some other treason destroyed, but by whom, or how, it was not knowne: by meanes whereof there was such hea­uy lamentation in that Countrey, and especially in the Court, that he thought the like had neuer bene heard of in any place. Which report caused Dionisius to greeue excéedingly, and was so much tormented in minde, that hee resoulued there to bide vnknowne to any, vntill he sawe how the King of Bohe­mia would digest this griefe, and also to heare the generall re­port would be giuen of him, for that he did not reuenge the death of the Prince on Sicanus, when he had him in Thessaly: as also to sée the entent of these stratagems: hauing good store of [Page] money and Iewels, he gate him a lodging in an auncient Bur­gomaisters house, where for his money hée was kindly vsed. His wanted costome was, euery day to goe to the Kings house, where he heard nothing to comfort him withall, but sawe the King his olde friend in most heauy plight for his sonnes death, all the ioy hée had, was that he heard all men notwithstanding the death of their Prince, report very honourably of him, that hée continued (as hée thought) secure, being not knowne, or of any suspected, to be the man hee was, but at the last, thus con­trarily it happened. The Burgomaster hauing diligently mar­ked the behauiour of his guest, found him farre differing from all other Palmers, in person and quallities, and besides, séeing the dayly charge hée was at, began to suspect him, hauing such store of coyne to maintaine that charge, that when Dionisius went to his lodging, hee would listen at his Chamber doore, to heare his spéeches, and marke his behauiour, where he often­times heard Dionisius bewayling his estate in most heauie plaints, naming himselfe, and oftentimes naming Parismus, and on a time declared the same to a Noble man of the Kings Court: who comming secretly to the Burgomaisters house, and hauing marked the Palmers behauiour, did suspect him to be some spye, apprehended him, and caused him to be cast in prison without any examination: which made Dionisius to wonder, fearing lest he should be known, but yet he thought th [...]t could not be, therefore with patience he endured this imprison­ment: where hée continued in the most vildest place amongst roagues and rascals, being exempt from the cleare light of the Sunne to comfort him withall, by the space of some sixe daies, by reason that the noble man which laide him there, was gone about affairs of his owne, but at his returne, he certified the King of such a suspicious person that he had found. Wherefore Dionisius was sent for, who being examined, told the king, that the occasion of his comming into that Countrey, was to no ill intent, but if it liked him to heare him priuately, he would de­clare vnto him the whole intent of his comming. The King [Page] hearing his spéeches, commaunded all to depart, wherevppon Dionisius disclosed himselfe. The King of Bohemia knowing him, being amazed at his straunge disguise, suddenly caught him in his armes and embraced him with great kindnesse. Dio­nisius discouered vnto him the heauie l [...]sse of Parismus, and his owne sudden departure out of Thessalie, requesting him that he would ioyne with him aganst Sicanus, to reuenge the death of so noble a Prince: which the Bohemian King most willingly yéelded vnto: so with many other spéeches that passed betwixt them, let vs leaue Dionisius to be entertained by the King of Bohemia.

CHAP. IX.

AS s [...]ne as Sicanus was returned into Persia, hée fully resolued either to obtaine Laurana in marriage, or waste Thessaly with continuall warre, wherefore hée came vnto his Father and told him, that being in Dionisius Court, hée was accused by two periured villaines, for the death of Parismus, sonne to the King of Bohemia: whereupon Dionisius hauing before promised him his daugh­ter, both denied her vnto him, and also had he not escaped by flight, he had bene slaine in the presence of Dionisius, with thrée of his Knights that were slaine in his rescue: and knéeling downe, most humbly intreated his Father to grant him a bande of Persians, to reuenge the disgrace and wrong hée had receiued.

[Page] The King of Persia, by his countenance bewrayed the inward fire of the heart, that without giuing any consideration to the truth of his sonnes report, he presently vowed to redresse those wrongs, or else bring perpetuall infamie to his posteritie: and to that effect, commaunded a mightie armie to be made in a rea­dinesse, which was so innumerable (hauing called all his con­tributories together) that it was the mightiest hoste that euer went out of Persia, and also prouided a mightie nauie of ships: which being soone in a readinesse, they with all the haste that might be, hauing winde and weather at will, hoysed saile, and made for the Countrey of Thessaly. A poore Fisherman of Thessaly, that was abroad at sea, hauing espied such a mightie nauie of ships, with al speed brought word to the Court, to Oli­uia the Queene, who desired Lord Remus to defend the Coun­try by his vttermost indeuours, because the trust thereof was wholy committed to his charge: who hauing some doubt (as before is rehearsed of such a mischiefe) of a sudden had gathe­red together 60000. footemen, and twenty thousand horse­men, being all expert souldiers, and got them to the Hauen se­cretly, where he knewe y^e Persians would land, who thinking to finde no repulse, whereby they might land without contra­dictiō, had lest on shore some twenty thousand Persians, which Lord Remus and Oristus perceiuing, suddenly issued out vp­on them, and slue the greatest part of them being disordered, and thereby vnable to resist the force of the Thessalians com­ming vnawares: which when the King of Persia sawe, being full of rage and furie, violently thrust all his ships into the har­bour, and with all speed landed the whole armie, in which time of landing, the Thessalians had destroyed of the Persians to the number of thirtie thousand: that the colour of the waters were turned into purple, which so vexed the King of Persia, and his sonne Sicanus, that causing a trench to be made for the for­tifying the place of their landing, without any further great impeach, they landed their whole armie: which was so huge, that the Lord Remus (though he were a man of inuincible cou­rage, [Page] and the Thessalians being but a handfull in respect of so mighty an hoste) began somwhat to discomfort themselues, and therefore returned to the City of Thebes, to defend that from the force of those Persians that were sufficiently prouo­ked to anger, by the slaughter the Thessalians had already made amongst them, and fortified the same with all kinde of prouision, being inuincible, vnlesse it were destroyed with fa­mine.

The Queene séeing her selfe thus distressed, yet shewed such magnanimious courage, that the like hath not beene seene in a woman, which prouoked the hearts of all her subiects, to such resolution, that they resolued neuer to yeeld to the force of the Persians.

The King of Persia hauing landed his Army, beganne to march into the Countrey, where they could scarce find victu­als to suffice such a multitude: the Country being large and full of desarts, forrests, and wildernesses, but at last they came to the plaines of Pharsaly, where in times past were the thun­dring warres of Caesar & Pompey, being of such a huge length and breadth, that they are thought to exceed all plaines in the world for largenesse and bignesse: on the one side whereof, run­neth the Riuer Peneus, which running downe from the foote of Olimpus, by meanes the hilles bowing gently on both sides with woody bottomes, maketh the Thessalians tent, where the Persians incamped themselues towards the farther end thereof, being distant not about twelue miles from the Citie of Thebes, whither they might easily march, and soone returne, and therefore fortified that place for their carriage. Immedi­ately Sicanus, with a hundreth thousand Persians, made to­wards the City, which the watchmen perceiuing, fired their Beacons. But Lord Remus and Oristus, gaue present com­mandement, that there should be no signe or shew made in the Citie, whereby the enemy might know that they had any knowledge of their comming. Where we wil leaue them with­in the Citie, making all the preparation that might be to with­stand [Page] the enemy, and Sicanus at the walls begirting the same, to speake of Parismus, who all this while being in the Cane amongst the Outlawes, still deuised how he might haue fur­ther triall of Lauranaes constancy, and therefore determined still to conceale himselfe, vntill he might heare newes of Dio­nisius returne, and also to know wherefore there was such pre­paration for warres.

And on a day he could endure no longer from beholding his Mistresse, but disguising himselfe in his Palmers wéedes, hee wandred from the Caue towards the citie, with intent to haue seene her giuing her wonted almes, whither he was no sooner come, but he espied the band of Sicanus souldiers, which strook such an amazemēt into his minde, that he stood like one with­out sense: being inraged with fury to see the City begirt wher­in his deare Lady was, which strooke him so néere vnto the heart, that sitting downe vpon a mossy banke, he vttered these heauy plaints. Unhappy wretch that I am, into what a distres­sed estate am I brought, that by my misdout [...]ful mind, haue so much wronged y^e constantest virgin liuing, and therby haue de­priued my selfe of her sight, which I might haue enioyed, but now by my owne folly am shut from it by a multitude of ene­mies y^t séeke the destruction of my beloued: what sufficient recōpence may I make her for this my monstrous ingratitude? or how may I without shame cal her my beloued, when I haue showne my selfe too strange, being in her sweet sight, & hearing the plaints she made for my absence, yet would not make my selfe manifest vnto her, thereby to driue away such passions, as I know she endureth for my sake wel, since my vnlucky stars haue allotted me this hard fortune, I will either recom­pence this wrong I haue done her, and purchase her liberty by chasing away these enemies which besiege my beloued, or lose my worthlesse life in her defence. In this sort he cōplained, vn­till that he was wearied with vttering such heauy passions: at last starting vp as one new raised from a trance, he ran with al haste towards the Caue, purposing to get some armor & wea­pon, [Page] wherewith to defend himselfe, and by the way hee met a knight al in black armor, being mounted vpon a gallant black Courser, being a goodly proportioned man, with all furniture readily appointed for warre, making speede towards the City, whom Parismus, supposed to be one of their company that be­sieged Thebes, and therefore boldly comming to him hee said: Stay I pray you sir knight, and let a Palmer demand on que­stion of thee. I may chuse said the knight, and so scornfully rode on. Wherewith Parismus was so inraged with furie, that cat­ching at a great stone, with al his might he flung it at this dis­curteous kinght, and hit him with such violence on the backe, that it made the blood start out at his nose: the knight turning about, came backe towards Parismus, and alighting from his stéed, pulled forth of his pocket a cord, wherewith he threatned to bind him, and so drag him at his horse héeles: and laying hands on Parismus, (thinking easily to haue bound him, for that he tooke him to be a Palmer) who contrary to the Persi­ans expectation, [...]ooke the knight such a blow on the face with his fist, y^t he staggered as one amazed, & therwith catching hold on his sword, told him, that vnlesse hee would declare vnto him of whence he was, and what army that was that besie­ged the City of Thebés, he should there die with his own wea­pon: which words the Persian tooke so disdainfully, being a­shamed to be so ouermatched by a Pilgrime, that with his foot he strooke Parismus such a violent blow on the belly, that hee with much paine could scarse stand, which caused him to strike the knight so vehemently with the pommel of his sword, that he fell downe halfe dead, and séeing himselfe in that estate, desi­red Parismus to be contented, and he would declare the whole truth vnto him. I am quoth he of Persia, my name is Toledo, belonging to the king of Persia, & am now come in this country with my Lord the Persian king, and his sonne Sicanus, and his contributary Kings, who are come hither to reuenge thēselues on king Dionisius, who fally accused Sicanus for murdering Parismus prince of Bohemia, who I think is run away frō his [Page] Court for some notorious fact he hath committed, and since they haue accused my Lord for his death: as also hee is come to fetch from hence, the Kings daughter by forc [...]f armes: and therefore my Lord is himselfe now before the walles of the Ci­tie with a hundred thousand armed Persians, and the rest of his forces haue encamped themselues heere hard by on the plaines of Pharsalia.

Parismus being moued into extreame choller, could not containe himselfe, but his minde being ouercharged with fury, burst forth into these spéeches: Traitor that thou art (quoth he) though vnknowne to any but thy selfe. Behold Parismus whom thou hast so falsly belyed, and whom the Traitor Si­canus did intend to murther, though I was reserued by the Almighty, to be the death of twenty thousand Persians: and since I see thy gracelesse minde so farre from piety, that in this extreame perill of thy death, thou wilt scandalize that honora­ble King, of whom thy base tongue is not worthy to speake: thou art the first that shalt die by the hand of Parismus, where­with drawing out his sword, he soone ended his life. And pul­ling the armour from his dead corpes, armed himselfe there­with, and mounting his Horse, set his speare in his rest, and made towards the City.

CHAP. X.

WHen Parismus came to Sicanus Campe, he waued his speare about his head, there­by challenging the Knights in Sicanus company, wherewith one singling him­selfe from the Armie, came with his speare ready coucht against Parismus, who set­ting spurres to his Horse, ranne at him with such force, that his speare passed quite through the knights body, wherewith he feldown dead, and catching with such nimblenesse (as it made the whole Ar­mie admire at him) the vanquished knights speare, he waued the same the second time aboue his head, at the sight whereof, an other Persian knight ranne at him, whom Parismus like­wise so valiantly encountred, that he ouerthrew both horse and man to the ground, in which fall, the knight burst his legge, whereof he died.

Sicanus séeing two of his Knights thus foiled, comman­ded one Bruster, a mighty huge proportioned man, and estée­med to be one of the best knights in Persia (except his two bre­thren) to encounter that Knight, who comming foorth on a mighty horse, met Parismus with violence, that shiuering the spelles of their Launces into the aire, Parismus left one of his stirrops, and Bruster lay senselesse backeward vpon his horse rumpe, but with the springing of the horse, was raised in­to his saddle, and by that time he came to himselfe, he saw Pa­rismus flourishing his sword, which made him draw also, and [Page] betwixt them, began so braue a combate, that their Armour began to flie in péeces, and the bloud by reason of their wounds issued out of many places, especially from the Persian knight, whom Parismus so firecely assailed, that he draue him onely to ward such such blowes as Parismus lent him: which Parismus espying, taking the aduantage, strooke a forcible blow at his arme, and parted the same quite from his body.

The Persian séeing himselfe brought to that lowe estate, turned his Horse and fled towards Sicanus Camp, which so a­mazed Sicanus, that he thought the blacke Knight (for so they called him) to be some monster in the shape of a man, sent to torment them, who notwithstanding these their combats, sée­med to be as fresh as he was in the beginning, still attending if any durst make any further combate.

The Quéene of Thessaly, Laurana the young Queene of Hungaria, Lord Remus, Oristus, and Osiris, hauing know­ledge of the comming of these Persians to the Citie, were got­ten to the toppe of a tower to behold their Campe, and at their first comming they beheld the arriuall of Parismus in the black armour, and the thrée noble combats hee had fought with the Persian knights, which made them maruell greatly who that knight might be, that had so valiantly slaine three of their ene­mies. While they were in this meditation, Laurana hauing wel markt the black knight, began to suppose that it might be Parismus, but againe, she thought that was impossible, at last shee saw a great troupe of Knights assaile him all at once, which made her call and cry, helpe, helpe, her sences being so farre drawne with feare and remembrance of Parismus, that shee neither thought of the place where shee was, nor in whose company. Lord Remus and Oristus, seeing this braue and worthy knight in such distresse, issued forth of the City with twenty thousand horsemen, and commanded forty thousand of the best Souldiers to come out an other way on the backe of the Persians, vnder the conduct of ano­ther braue Noble man: all this while the blacke Knight [Page] so brauely and couragiously defended himselfe, that before the Thessalians were come to his rescue, hee had slaine aboue forty Persians: but being vnable to striue with so many, hee was constrained to lose his weapon. Contrarily, Lord Remus sudden issuing out, so amazed the Persians, and made such slaughter amongst them, that they quickly set the black knight at libertie: who hauing recouered his horse, being cheared with the comfortable sight of Lord Remus, and his trusty knight Oristus, with his sword made such hauocke amongst the Per­sians, that none durst abide his comming, but wheresoeuer hee went, hee made a large lane for the rest to follow him.

The Persians by this time hauing ioined all their forces together, thronged by such multitudes vpon the Thessalians, that they were constrained somewhat to retire, but in their re­treit, the blacke knight sent the Ghosts of many Persians to hel, and behaued himselfe with such magnanimity that all the whole army were amazed at his valour. By this time the Thessalian footmen assailed the Persians on y^e other side, which draue them into such a feare, that thousands of them were de­termined to flie: but seeing no hope of safety by flight, were so amazed, that their force was quite turned into cowardise: which the Thessalians perceiuing, assailed thē with such fury, that they had destroied in a short space, a great number of them that al the earth was stained with the blood. The black knight still followed his enemies with such furie, that (by the death of many Persians) he was gotten into the middest of the whole army, where he found Sicanus incouraging his Souldiers, and knowing him by the richnesse of his armour, ran at him with such force, that with a mighty blow hee beate him quite from his horse, and had it not bin for the two brethren of Bru­ster, who attended on him, he had beene troden to death. The blacke knight stil rushing amongst the thickest of the Persians came where Oristus was vnhorsed, & assailed grieuously, who seeing him in that distresse, laid on his blowes with such swift [Page] furie, that happy was he that could get him farthest from him: by which meanes Oristus recouered his horse. Thus all the day the battell continued, to the terrour of the Persians, com­fort of the Thessalians, and honour of the blacke knight: who behaued himselfe with such magnanimity, that both the Per­sians, and Thessalians admired his valor. Like wise the quéene and Laurana, (who all this while beheld the battell) could not otherwise iudge, but the blacke Knight to be the most valiant Knight of the world.

Thus the day being spent, the Thessalians sounded re­treit, which the Persians were glad of, onely the black knight went away discontent, for that he thought he had not yet suffi­ciently recompenced his kind loues fauours: but secretly con­ueyed himselfe vnseene of any) vnto the wood wherein was his Caue. Where we leaue him to be entertained of the Out­lawes, and to be cured of his woundes, by the virgin I spake of before.

Lord Remus and Oristus (hauing retired their men into the City) sought for the blacke Knight, but could not finde him, which made them maruell what should become of him, whose behauiour had beene such, as it made him knowne to all the whole Army: but seeing themselues frustrated of seeing him, they gaue order for such as were maimed, and hauing viewed their whole troupes, found but a thousand Thessalians mis­sing, and with great ioy went to the Pallace: where they were ioyfully receiued by the Quéene and Laurana, and relating the whole circumstance of their exploit, their chiefest talke was of the worthy fortitude of the blacke knight.

Sicanus on the other side, seeing himselfe so brused with the fall he receiued, and also his Persians so weakned, and such a multitude of them slaine, departed towards the Campe, on the plaines of Pharsalia, beeing not able to lodge before the City walles, by reason the ground was so wet with the blood of the Persians: who lay vpon such heapes, that had not the Thes­salians the next day conueied their bodies into a deepe pitte, [Page] the stench of them would haue annoyed the whole Cittie.

CHAP. XI

THe King of Persia séeing his sonne thus foyled, and so sore hurt, and such a number of Persians slaine, and by so small a company of Thessalians, (his men beeng thrée to one) was so inwardly vexed and inraged, that hée gaue commandement to remoue all his force vnto the City, which was so innumerable, that within thrée or foure daies all the Citie was round begirt with souldiers. The King of Persia himselfe lay vpon a hill hard by the Citie, in a Tent most richly and rarely contriued: and all the Tentes of his contributories round about him; which made such a shew, as though a whole multitude of nations had bene gathered to­gether to destroy the whole earth: which when the Thessali­ans beheld, they coniectured, that vnles God should raise some extraordinary succour to aide them, it were impossible for them long to withstand this mightie force: but yet some hope they had in the King of Hungaria, and Prince of Sparta, who were gone into their countries to prepare souldiers to aid the Quéen and Laurana, and the time of their promised returne was al­most [...]ome.

The King of Bohemia likewise hauing knowledge of the Persians being in Thessaly, béeing vrged with hope to re­uenge [Page] his sons death, mustered vp all his forces, and gathered out of them a mighty band of expert souldiers: who were most desirous to deale with the Persians, because of all nations, they hated them most: the one halfe marched vnder the con­duct of Dionisius: and the other fifty thousand he led himselfe: and hauing all things in a readinesse, within a short space, they arriued on the coast of Thessalie. Dionisius by his spies, hauing knowledge where the Persian Campe lay, conueyed his men secretly into the wood, where Parismus Caue was: and the King of Bohemia, with his fiftie thousand, mar­ched ouer the Plaines of Pharsalia: and incamped themselues neere vnto the Citie, and hard by the Persians: but soone the King of Persia had knowledge of the King of Bohemia. The same day the Prince of Sparta had landed thrée score thousand men at Armes, all vnder his owne conduct, and encamped on the other side of the Persians. The King of Hungaria likewise, with fity thousand souldiers, had pitched his Campe on the backe of the Persians: so that they were inuironed round with Bohemians, Hungarians, and Spar­tans, and before them the City. Which much amazed the Per­sians, but yet by reason of their multitudes, they thought themselues secure.

Oliuia, Laurana, and the Thessalian Lords, seeing such a multitude of Souldiers encamped so néere to the Persians, thought them likewise to bee enemies: and beeing much disquieted, sent out a messenger to enquire the truth thereof: who returning with ioy, certified them, that onely the blewe Tents, were Persians, the red Tents, the Bohemians, the white Tents, the Spartans, and the greene Tents, the Hun­garians forces: Which newes so comforted the Quéene, that shée could not tell how to containe herselfe from excéeding re­ioycing: had not Dionisius béene wanting. Laurana especial­ly hearing that Parismus Father was come to defend her, and reuenge his sonnes wrong, (whom all men thought to haue béene dead) continually praised God, and prayed for the pre­seruation [Page] of that worthy King, and oftentimes, her petitions procéeded from such kind vertue, that together with the remem­brance of his great kindnesse, her Fathers losse, and Paris­mus absence, the Cristall teares ranne with abundance downe her Crimson chéekes, like droppes of Pearle: at last the Quéene called one of her Gentlemen, to goe with a message of thankes, vnto the Campes of her friendes, but Oristus desired that hée might be the Messenger, whom the Quéene well liked of: who departed out of the Cittie vnto the King of Bohemia, being his Lord, and knéeling downe did his message from the Quéene: the King knowing him, and withall remembring that hée was the onely man, whome Parismus most estéemed, most kindely welcommed him, with teares for griefe trickling downe his whitebeard, and not able to speake one worde with extreame care for the death of his Sonne.

Oristus likewise was so mooued to see his King so kinde, that he could vse no words but sorrowfull sadnesse, and hauing saluted the King of Hungaria, and the King of Sparta, retur­ned vnto the Queene.

Dionisius had so secretly lodged his Troups in the woods, that the Persians had no knowledge of his beeing there, but would oftentimes disguise himselfe into the Palmers weedes, and so behold the Cittie, how it was incompassed with Soul­diers, which strooke such sorrowe to his heart, to see his Coun­trey ready to be wasted, his Subiectes in distresse, his Queene and his faire Daughter, ready to be surprised and taken by the Enemies, and such a multitude of bloodie minded Persians, vnto whome he neuer had done wrong, readie to destroy all things, that he could not refraine from exclaming against For­tune and his owne destines that had allotted him such mis­chaunce: and hauing diligently viewed the Campe, he espied the Tents of the Hungariā King, and of the Prince of Sparta, who had giuen him their faithfull promise to ayde him against the Persians: and therefore he was some what comforted with their presence. [Page] at last he espied Osiris comming towards the Cittie, who had prepared in a readinesse twelue thousand Thessalian horsemen, and had lodged them some twelue miles from the Cittie, and knowing him to be a man of most rare curtesie, he saide vnto him: Worthy Knight, might I be so bold as aske this one que­stion, wherefore such a multitude of souldiers haue begirt this cittie?

Osiris most curteously answered, Father those with the blewe Tents are the Persians, who without any iust quarrell are come to destroy this Countrey. Those with the red Tents are vnder the King of Bohemia, come in reuenge of his sonnes death against the Persians. The gréene and white Tents are the King of Hungaria and Prince of Sparta, who are come to aide the Thessalians. Indéed we are but a handfull in respect of the Persians, but the greatest hope we haue is in God, and we are also much comforted by the aide of a black knight (for so we call him, for that hée is vnknowne) whose valour is able to dis­comfort a multitude of Persians, who haue already tasted of his inuincible force: for first he slewe thrée of the stoutest Persi­ans in thrée single combattes, and at last, he defended himselfe against a multitude of them, that like cowardes came running vppon him, but at last hée was ayded by Lord Remus and Ori­stus, who seeing his person indaungered by so vnequall a com­panie, issued out of the Cittie with their power (but before they could come to him, he had slaine fortie Persians) at which time by the asistance of that worthy Knight, there died of Persians almost fiftie thousand: amongst the rest, this blacke knight en­countered Sicanus of Persia, and at one blowe, ouerthrew both horse and man, that had he not bene taken vp, he had then bene troden to death: but this is our care, that we knowe not what is become of him, for hée priuily got himselfe from forth of the field. Whilest Osiris was telling this newes vnto the Palmer, diuers were gathered about him to heare his talke, by which meanes the report of the blacke knight came to the knowledge of the King of Bohemia, the King of Hungaria, and the Prince [Page] of Sparta, so that all the whole multiude were desirous to sée that valiaunt Knight. Dionisius hearing this newes, was so comforted therewith, that he went vnto his Souldiers, & sent a Messenger vnto the Bohemian King, that hee would haue some conference with the King of Hungaria, and the Prince of Sparta, to giue a suddaine onset on the Persians,) who were mightily inraged, when they heard that the king of Hungaria and Prince of Sparta were come against them.) The Mes­senger returned answere, that they were determined to giue the onset the next morning. Parismus by this time had fully recouered his health: therefore béeing still desirous to reuenge himselfe on Sicanus, as also to be assured in what estate his be­loued Laurana was, thinking himselfe too slacke in performing his promised vowe, armed himselfe in the blacke Armour, and hasted towardes the Cittie: where he was no sooner come, but séeing such an alteration, he was so perplexed to see such a mul­titude of enemies, in compassing the person of his beloued, that without any further aduise, hée determined to assault the whole multitude, and so die amongst his enemies. At last calling to minde the former passed Loue betwixt him and Laurana, hée thought it an vndutifull part to destroye himselfe whome shee so tenderly loued: and taking to himselfe a more stayde resolu­tion, hée came into the Persians Campe, and viewed the same, next, hée espyed the Gréene Tents, and thither hee went: and comming to one of the Souldiers, demaunded whose Tent that was, who answered him that it was the Kings of Hungaria, and from thence hée went vnto the white Tents, and asked of a souldier whose that was, who told him, that it was the Prin­ces of Sparta: at last hee espyed the Red Tents, which he well kn [...]we to be his Fathers, which caused an extreame feare in him, least his Father should be also come against the Thessa­lians, and comming thither, hée met with one of his Fathers Knights, of who [...]e he demaunded the cause of the comming of the Bohemian King into Thessalie? The Knight presently thought that he was the Blacke knight, of whom such generall [Page] commendation had béene giuen, and therefore tolde him the whole cause of their comming, and withall, that the Hungari­ans and Spartans, were on their side: which newes so reuiued the blacke Knight, that his ioy excéeded. The Persians all this while viewed the behauiour of the blacke knight, and likewise the knowledge of his comming, was come to the hearing of the whole field, which caused many thousāds to forsake their tents to behold him, which he no soner beheld, [...]ut getting himselfe in­to the midst of the plaine, which was betwixt the campes, and wauing his speare aboue his crest, challenged the Persians, who beholding their terror come again to tormēt thē, stood sta­ring on one another: at last one Brant a mightie strong knight, belonging to the Bosphore of Thrace, one of the contributories, buckled on his Armour, and mounting himselfe, came out to méet the black knight, who no sooner espied him, but setting his spurs to his horse, incountred the Persian with such fury, that with the blow of his speare which hit him ful in the sight of his beuer, & shiuering into small péeces, strooke into his brain, wher­with he tumbled frō his horse dead: which the Persians seeing, none of the [...] would come foorth at that time, so that the black Knight departed greatly discontented, that hée could make no further proofe of his valour, leauing thousands praysing him, some commending his person, some his comelinesse, some his curtesie, & all his powers: and as he was going towards y^e caue, he espied the troupe of souldiers that lay hidden in those woods, which made him wonder greatly, but wold not inquire of any, because he knew thē to be his subiects by their [...]lags: so priuily getting into the caue, he declared to the outlawes what a mul­titude of souldiers were come into the country. Whilest he was in this discourse, one of the outlawes came in, and beganne to tell that there was an host of men in the wood, and withall, affirming that Dionisius the King was amongst them, which hée prouoked by so many likelyhoods, that Parismus could not choose but beleeue him, being now strooken with such an in­ward ioy, that hee shewed himselfe so pleasant and merrie, that [Page] the Outlawes wondred at this sodain alteration, hauing neue before in al the time of his being amongst them, séen him mery Uery early y^e next morning, the Bohemians, Hungarians, and Spartans, by the soun [...]e of a drumme which they heard with­in the citie, had knowledge that all were in readines, therefore they marched all at once to the Persians, being halfe a mile a­sunder, vpon a goodly plain, where they were no sooner met with their armies, but there began the cruellest fight that euer was séene, but all their force did nothing preuaile against the Per­sians (though they assailed them in thrée seuerall places) who kept themselues so strongly together (being fiue to one) that the Bohemians, Spartans, and Hungarians, had the worst. By this time the Thessalians were issued out of [...]e Cittie: and so furiously inuaded the Persians, that thousandes of ghosts were sent to Elis [...]um: the fight continued for the space of two houres, in all which time neyther partie had aduan­tage of other, but still y^e Persians kept with a head, that the ad­uerse partie could not breake their ranks. Also by this time Di­onisius was come néere the battell, which when the Persians saw, they could not tel what to thinke: likewise the Thessalians wondred at the Hungariaias & Spartans, also fearing lest they had bin Persians: at last Dionisius (being in his youth a most braue & gallant sou [...]dier) setting spures to his horse, ran furious­ly against a Persian knight, and with his Launce strooke him through the body, wherewith his forces ioyned with the Bo­hemians, which some what discomforted the Persians, when began such shiuering of Lances, clattering of armour, soun­ding of Trumpets, noyse of Dru [...]es, neighing of horses, that all the Citie was filled with the noyse thereof: Wherewith O­liuia, Laurana, and the rest of the Thessalian Ladies, were come to the top of a tower to behold them: at which very in [...]āt they espied the blacke kn [...]t comming with all spéede towards the Campe, who hearing the noyce of the battell, was come to satia [...]e himselfe with the blood of the Persians, rushing in amongest the thickest. The first that hée mette, hée [Page] ranne quite through the body, anothers head cut off, that the Persians began to throng about him by multitudes, whose in­inuin [...]ble force they were not able to withstande: for hée laide such blowes vpon them, that he that was next him, or with­in compasse of his sworde, oyed. The newes of his comming was soone knowne, which so encouraged those on the Thessa­lians partie, that euery one was resolutely determined to dye, or conquer. The blacke knight hauing continued an houre and more in this cruell fight, hauing slaughtered many of the Persians, waued his sworde aboue his head: which the Thes­salian horsemen perceiuing, made a head after him, and by his valour disranckt the Persians, and was gotten into the midst of the Persian battaile, and with him the King of Hungaria, Oristus, and the Prince of Sparta, whome hée very well knewe, where thousands of the Persians dyed, by the vnconquerable force of these worthy knights. At last they foure encountred with foure of the contriburaties, two of them being the bre­thren of Bruster, two of the valientst knights that euer were in Persia, exceeding the ordinary stature of men, the one na­med Brandor, the other named Ramon. The blacke knight encountred Brandor, the King of Hungaria encountred Ra­mon, and the Prince of Sparta, and Oristus, the other two: betweene whom began such a cruell battell, that the earth was all stained with the blood that issued from them. In this cruell maner they continued by the space of halfe an houre, where­with the blacke knight was so inraged, seeing himseffe resisted by one Persian, that all his sences were turned into fury, that taking his sworde in both his hands, he strooke such a blow at Brandor, that with the force thereof his swordebrast, and the lesser ende thereo [...] in the rebound, strooke his horse that hee fell downe vnder him and Brandor: fell downe from his horse as one dead: which the blacke knight e [...]ing, snatched his sword from him▪ and mounted Brandors horse, and girding his spurs into his sides, ran at Ramon with such furie, that had hee not auoyded his blow, he had spilt him in péeces, and so he left him. [Page] The prince of Sparta, the king of Hungaria, and Oristus, still keeping together. Thrise afterwardes did the blacke knight rescue Dionisius from the Persians: and thrise did hee mount, his father hauing his horse slaine vnder him: such noble acts and valiant exploits did hee there performe, that my dulled penne is not able to expresse the same, that the Persians lay slaughtered vpon heapes, and the earth was died into red with their bloud. When it grew towards night, Osiris came in with his twenty thousand horses, which fresh supply made such a slaughter amongst the Persians, that they were con­strained to vse all their skill how to defend, and not to offend, which gaue such encouragement to the Thessalian party, that they seemed no more discomforted, then at the beginning. The blacke Kinght all this while ranged vp and downe a­mongst the Persians, being driuen hither and thither with the throng of the Souldiers; at last he came vnto the place where the Persian king was, who ranne at the blacke knight with his Speare, and burst the same, but the blacke knight would not strike at him, but bowed his body in reuerence of him, which made him wonder: also he mette with Sicanus, with whom he could not meete before, and beeing glad he had gotten a sight of him, he determined now either to end his life, or die himselfe in pursuit thereof: therefore brandishing his Sword, he stroke at Sicanus with such fury that he made the fire start out of his eyes. Sicanus likewise gaue such a violent thrust at the blacke knight, that lighting neere the buckle of his Armour, it pearced into his side, wherewith the blacke Knight being closed with Sicanus, caught hold of his Beuer with his left hand, and with the pummell of his Sword stroke him so violently, that the buckles brast, and his Beuer and Helmet fell from his head, and the blow hauing passage by the weakenesse of his Armour, brused his face, that he fell from his horse, and had not Brander and Ramon beene by, with o­ther of the Contributa [...]ies, he had the second time dyed by the blacke Knights handes, which so inraged the blacke Knight, [Page] that like a madde man hee furiously [...]lung vp and downe, slaughtering infinite numbers of Persians, destroying all that he mette, that his horse and armour was all to bee stained with the Persians bloud, and would haue continued longer to the terrour of the Persians, but that the day was ended, whereof the Persians were glad, and sounded retrait, hauing lost so many of their men that all the earth was couered with dead bodies. The Persians hauing recouered their tents, in heauinesse began to curse the blacke knight, who had made such slaughter, that all the army was almost discomforted with the remembrance of him. Dionisius because it was night, con­ueied his souldiers vnto the wood againe. The Bohemians, Hungarians, and Sparta [...]es, being gone to their tents, the Thessalians to the City, and Osiris backe to the place from whence he came: where I leaue them, to speake of the Quéene and Laurana, who all this while had viewed the whole campe, being amazed to see the slaughter that was made amongst the Persians, but especially by the blacke knight: they also mar­uelled what force that should be that came from the wood, but most of al, they wondred that the blacke knight concealed him­selfe: which made Laurana so desirous to know, that shee sent out a Page to marke his going from the Campe, to tell him that shee entreated him to lodge within the City, that the Queene and she might yeelde him some part of amends for his kindnesse, for comming to aide them.

The Page diligently attending his businesse, espied the blacke knight hasting from the field, and calling vnto him, told him that the Princes Laurana had sent vnto him, to re­quest him to lodge within the City, that they might shew some thankefulnesse vnto him, for the paines he had taken to defend them. The blacke knight willed him to [...]ender all dutifull thankes vnto his Mistris, whose request he would most wil­lingly fulfill, but that he was bound to the contrarie by a so­lemne vowe, but within a short time he would most diligently attēd her pleasure: for that he had dedicated his life to be spent [Page] in her defence, which he would not desist to hazard whilest she had an enemy liuing: wherewith, rewarding the Page very boun [...]ifully he departed: and by the way he beganne to con­sider, that if he should not manifest himselfe, all men would thinke that Sicanus had been wrongfully accused, and his own honour called in question: therefore yet againe, he once more resolued not to manifest himselfe, vntill such time as Sicanus had confest the fact that was laid to his charge, and with this resolution went to the Caue. Laurana expected y^e returne of her Page, with such an earnest desire, that she could not be quiet vntill he was come, who deliuered his message according as Parismus had willed him, which draue her into a thousand sun dry imaginations: one while she thought it was some strange Knight that sought her loue by his valour, and an other while she thought it was Parismus, but that cogitation was soon ex­tinguished by a thousand doubts, that with extremity of passi­on, shee burst forth into these laments. What distresse and terror is this, that I endure by want of my deere Parismus: who I cannot suppose to be liuing, because he is thus long a [...] ­sent, who I know would not be out of my Company, if hee might enioy the same: but my Destinies by his want doe in­tend to worke my ouerthrow, yet neuerthelesse, were I but assured he were liuing, then should my heart be at quiet, for I know he would preserue his life for my sake: or were I but assured that hee were dead, then would I soone resolue to fol­low him, that my fainting Ghost might enioy his compa­nie: and knew he but how deerely I loued him, then I am sure that he would soone returne, but he hath heretofore mette with some false Cre [...]ed, and therefore he only absenteth him­selfe, to make triall of my Truth, were I but sure that this were the effectual cause of his absence, then would I rest in qui­et, but my lucklesse Stars bode me no such good Fortune. And to my griefe, I feare me, he poore soule is destroyed by the tre­chery of that wicked homicide Sicanus, who is not contented with his tragedie, but also séeketh my destruction. Well▪ [Page] with what patience I may, I will liue in hope once againe to see my Lord, for I doe not doubt but the Pal [...]ers newes were true: or else how should he come to possesse that Iewel, which my deare Parismus sent me? In these, and such like com­plaints shee spent all that night, refusing to be comforted, that the pure Christall teares ranne from her eyes aboundantly, that it would haue forced a stony heart to relent at her dolefull lamentation.

CHAP. XII.

DIonisius very earely the next day after the battell fought against the Persians, came marching with his troupes (of whom ve­ry few were missing, towards the Citie, from whence hee found the Persians re­moued further by halfe a mile: for they ha­uing viewed their forces, found them so much weakened, by the last daies infinite slaughter, that they thought themselues scarce able to resist an other assault, and therefore began to intrench themselues: by which meanes those of the Thessalian party had free accesse to the City, and by the appointment of Dionisius, al the souldiers were conueied into the same, euery band lodged seuerally by themselues, al things being ordered for a sudden assault (if need should require.) The Bohemian king requested the king of Hungaria, and Prince of Sparta, to go with him to the palace, to visit the Quéene, amongst whom was Dionisius, not [Page] yet knowne to any but the Bohemian King, they marched in [...]heir armour with Drummes and Trumpets. The Quéene [...]auing knowledge of their comming, came to meete them in mourning attire, and with her Laurana, and the Thessalian Ladies, the faire young Queene of Hungaria, and the Ladie Isabella, (who had all this while remained with Oliuia,) and all the Thessalian Lords, shewing by their outward habite, their inward sorrow, for want of him that was amongst them: by this time they were met, and most kindly saluted each other the Quéene giuing them most harty thankes for their friend­ship, and they protesting neuer to forsake her in time of neede. Oliuia maruelled who that might be that concealed himselfe, which both Laurana and all the rest diligently marked, and be­ing drawne by that meanes into heauy cogitation of her lost Lord, she vttered these speeches: Most worthy King of Bohe­mia, I am sorry that the King of Thessalie is wanting, to giue honour to your simple encertainement, whose absence is most greeuous vnto vs, being our onely defence & comfort, by which meanes wee cannot giue you such a ioyfull welcome, as wee should, if our Sun were not darkned, but are compelled by our plaints, to make you pertakers of our woe: as also the death of that noble Prince your valiant sonne, (being vnfortunately acted in our Court,) hath so ouerwhelmed vs with care, that you cannot expect ought from vs but sighs and mourning, that all the entertainement we can giue, is to bid you welcome to a feast of sorrow: wherwith she and the vertuous Laurana, shew­ing a countenance full of milde pittie, stood wéeping & lamen­ting, that all the whole company were gréeued to sée their sor­row, which strooke such a déepe impression of pitty into Dioni­sius heart, that with the teares standing in his eies, he vnbra­ced his helmet, and comming suddainly to Oliuia, said. Deare Queene, behold one salue to cure your sorrow: the Quéen and Laurana were so amazed, that they could not tell whether they might giue credit to their eies or no, but at last with such vn­speakable ioy, Oliuia imbraced him, that it delighted all to be­hold [Page] their kind reioycings.

Laurana knéeling downe did her humble dutie, and Dioni­sius séeing her kneeling, & with blubbred chéeks as he thought bewailing his absence, most willingly tooke her vp and kissed her, which hee had neuer before done, since shee was a childe: which so rauished Lauranaes passionate heart, that her ioy for hie returne, and griefe for Parismus want, might be compared to two mighty forces striuing to ouer master each other. The Lords of Thessaly, were so renewed with the presence of their king, that twenty thousand hosts of Persians could not daunt their vndaunted hearts, such mirth & reioycing was through­out the whole Citie, that for euer after they continually kept that as a holy and festiuall day: so excéeding was the Citizens ioy, that the belles rung, the Drumes and Trumpets soun­ded, and they made bone [...]res and tryumphes throughout the whole Citie: the noise whereof made the Persians wonder, and astonished, to see them in such mirth, & so little to regard their forces, which doubts were soone ended by the newes of Dionisius reurne, whom we leaue now in his owne Court in great ioy, welcomming the strangers, and himselfe welco­med by his subiects.

Parismus the same day was come out of his Caue in Pal­mers wéedes, because he knew he should not haue occasion to vse his Armes, and comming to the City, he found the Persi­ans di [...]odged, and all the rest within the walles, and hearing the ioy that was made, he maruelled what should be the cause, and easily got into the City, (because vnder that habite he was not mistrusted,) and soone had knowledge of Dionisius his re­turne, which he had heard of before. He began then to thinke with himselfe in this sort, how vnkind am I, that will not ma­nifest my selfe vnto my deare and Uertuous Laurana, whom I know endureth much sorrow for my sake, shee will keepe mee being aliue, secret from men, and why then may I not com­fort her and my selfe, by hauing some priuate conference with her? And with this resolution, he went vnto the Pallace, and [Page] there walked vp and downe, not hauing a sight of Laurana, nor Leda her maide all the day, nor possibly knowing how to come to giue her knowledge of his being there without suspi­tion. Thus he stayed vntill it began to be darke, and hauing no other meanes, he lept ouer a mighty high stone wall into the Garden, wher [...] diuers times hee had enioyed the sweet pre­sence of his beloued: and there hid himselfe in a little groue that was by Art made for pleasure, whereunto seld [...]me any came, in which groue he was constrained to stay most part of the night, by reason that the King of Bohemia, and the rest, lodged in the Pallace, it was very late before all were at rest. Yet neuerthelesse when there was none to hinder him, he was without any hope to see his Mistresse, and all things being si­lent, he spied a light burning in her window, vnder which hee got himselfe so neere as hee could, and to his comfort heard Laurana sing this song to her Lu [...]e.

[Page] Parismus hearing the contents of this heauenly Harmony, and knowing the voice to be the vertuous Laueranes, was so contentedly pleased with the same, that his spirits were drawn into a diuine contemplation of her perfections, wherein hee continued a great space, at length, when hee heard that swéet delighting Harmony to cease, he cast vp his eye to the win­dowe, to see if hee could haue a sight of his beloued through the Glasse, weereof he was disappointed, by reason the candle was suddainly extinct, which draue him into sundry cogitations how hee might giue any instance vnto her of his being there, but sawe no possible meanes, being a thousand times in minde to knocke at the staires doore that came into that garden, from which hee was discouraged by as many contrary doubtes, least hee should putte herin some suddaine feare, by such vn­woonted noyce: Againe, hee knewe not who might bee in her companie, which might be a meanes to bring her name in question, if hee should be seene there. Whilest hee continued in these doubtfull thoughts, the night was farre spent, & the cleere day beganne to appeare, which draue him into another studie which way to get out of that place again, for he was loth to lin­ger there all the next day, and so by misfortune be discouered.

At last being driuen to take any shifte for currant, he got to the top of the backe wall, which incompassed the Pallace, and thought that was the best way to escape without suspition, for if hée hadde attempted to haue gone backe by the same way hée came in, hée could by no meanes haue escaped vnespyed, so ad­uenturously leaping from the hight of the wall, by great mis­fortune (the same being farr heigher then he thought,) he had a most grieuous fall, and by the noice thereof awaked two migh­tie fierce Mastyffes, which were vsually kept for to defend that place, wherein a Rich Cittizen continually layed great store of Warre and March [...]dize, which no sooner espyed him fallen downe, but they ran vpon him with open mouth, (the Dogges in Thessalie being so strong and fierce by Nature, that they feare not to encounter with the mightiest Lyons,) which draue [Page] Parismus to his vttermost shifts, hauing no weapon to defend himselfe withall, but a little pocket dagger, drewe backe vnto the corner of the wall, by which meanes the Dogge could not come behinde him, that with ease hée slewe them both, and hauing espied this daunger, being bitten in diuers places be­fore he could kill them, he knocked at the marchants doore, thin­king to make some excuse to passe by that way, through which hée must néedes goe, for there was no other way for him to get out: the Marchants Daughter hearing one knocke, looked out at the windowe, and taking Parismus for another, came run­ning downe to the doore, and kindely taking him in, locked the doore againe, and being in the darke entrie, clasping her ten­der armes about his necke: Swéete Friende (quoth shée) how could you escape the danger of the Dogges, that you aduentu­red to come in on this side of the House? but as I wonder, so I am gladde you haue escaped them, and most louingly kissed him an hundreth times.

Parismus maruelled much at this great kindenesse, and willingly dissembled, as if hée had bene the man shee tooke him to be: for her tender and kinde empracings were sufficient en­ticements to procure his consent. That night shée had appoin­ted a young Gentleman (vnto whome she bore affection, with­out the consent of her Parents) to come vnto her, and with the ioy of his comming, she made no doubt how hee could come in on that side, which caused him to vse the like kinde Salutation to her, reioycing in his minde, to sée how suddainely hee was fallen into such a sweete labyrinth of Loue, hauing so lately escaped a mischiefe.

The Marchaunts Daughter thinking verilie it had bene her accustomed Louing Friende, vsed all courteous and most kinde welcomes that might be, with wonderfull protestations other Loue, being such indeed, as proceeded from deepe groun­ded affection, which made Parismus vse the like courteous im­bracings, and thankfull gratulations, finding by her speeches, and by many other likelyhoods, that shee was none of the [...]sest, [Page] but might be of better parentage then, he tooke her to be, which somewhat inticed his minde to a wandring delight in her kind­nesse, that he determined with her to taste what loue was. By that time they had continued their kindnesse a good space, shée desired him to come vp into her Chamber, whether shée ledde him in the darke, the poore soule hauing no other intent but chast and vertuous, and nothing suspecting him to be a stran­ger, which Parismus well perceiued by her behauiour. Assoone as they were come thither, shée kindely desired him to sit down on the beddes side, whilest shée went to light a candle, as well to be delighted with beholding his person, as otherwise. Shée was no sooner gone, but Parismus secretly stepped to the doore, with purpuse to behold if her beautie and person were agrée­able to her other conditions, and sawe her to be a most gallant and beautifull Damosell, which sight so inticed his mind, that assoone as shée was comming to him with the candle, hée blewe the same out, and tolde her that a light fitted not at that time, for it might be a meanes to bewray their secret méeting, which shee allowed for a sufficient excuse: wherewith Parismus bée­ganne to entertaine her, with such kinde dalliance as earst hée neuer tasted, she kindly reprouing his behauiour, yet had no po­wer to resist: at which time (to both their delights) he depriued her of the Iewell she was vnwilling to losse, but with his pithy perswasions yeelded vnto: he vsing such a sweete attractiue ver­tue, as was able to conquere the chastest. Parismus reaped such sweete content from this Uirgins pure delightfull bodie, that he was altogether vnwilling to leaue her pleasant imbracings, but at last remembring his estate, told her that he would work such meanes for sauegard of her honour, as she should wel like of: she poore soule with weeping eyes and heartie sighes, badde him adiue. Kindly kissing at the parting, he gaue her a rich Ie­well, which he desired her to were for his sake, and tooke from her finger a King, which he promised he would euerlastingly weare as her fauour. Assoone as he was forth of doores, comes the appointed louer, who hauing staied somewhat long, feared [Page] some displeasure, but yet knockt, which made Violetta (for so was she called) open the doore againe, maruelling that he should be so soone returned: but hee at his comming saluted her with a fresh salutation, and kissed her, excusing himselfe for his long tariance, which draue her into such a perplexitie, that shee could not tel what to say, nor what to think: at last she said, what need you vse such excuses, when you were so lately with me? Deare Loue (quoth he,) account you it so lately, when (I protest) I thought these thrée dayes sithence I saw you, to be longer then thrée yeares: by which spéeches she perceiued that another had ouerheard their appointment, and by that meanes deceiued her, which made her growe so much in loathing of her present suter, that euer after shee shunned his companie, and [...]ent her mind wholly to meditate how to knowe him that had trapt her loue, vowing neuer to loue any but him, and resoluing ne­uer to enioy any quiet, vntill she had knowledge what hee was. Parismus was no sooner come forth of the Marchants doores, reioycing at his last pleasant banquet, but presently hee hasted to his Caue, where he found the Out-lawes, sadly respecting his returne, of whom being kindly welcomed, he betooke himselfe to his rest, and the contented meditations of the Marchants daughter, had not y^e remembrance of Lauranas Uertues, some­what restrained his affection, hée had fallen to a loose and disso­lute conceit. But calling to minde her perfections, and his vn­constant Acte, he tormented himselfe with griefe, that hee had doone her that wrong: but yet it troubled his minde the lesse, because hee knewe it was not reuealed to any but to himselfe onely, and likewise somewhat it vrged his minde of ingrati­tude, if he should altogether forsake Violetta, frō whom he had taken the best Iewell she had: in which diuersitie of thoughts he spent that mornings repose. The king of Persia, calling his contributaries altogether, by the aduise of all, concluded to send into Persia for more Forces, as also to request diuers of his alli­ance to aide him, in reuenge of such iniurious wrongs, as he al­ledged he & his sonne Sicanus had sustained at Adonius hands. [Page] This message being so secetly dispatches, that the The ssali­ans had no knowledge thereof, by which meanes they cōtinued in great security and ioy for the great victorie, they with the aide of the blacke knight had made against the Persians: yea so secure would they haue beene (had not the remembrance of Parismus death somewhat calmed their exceeding ioy) that the Persians might many times haue surprised them, but the blacke Knight was still such a lette vnto them, that their ene­mies could attempt nothing but he would discouer it, by which meanes, the Thessalians had knowledge thereof. Many daies continued the Persians before the walles of Thebes, neuer giuing any assault, nor once comming foorth of their Trenches, which caused the Thessalians to count them halfe vanquished. During which time, Parismus (knowne by the name of the blacke knight) did fight many braue combats with the Persians, by which meanes the Court of Dionisius was filled with the resounding ecchoes of excéeding praises made in commendation of his prowes and vnconquered chiualry, but most of all they wondred at his strangenesse to bee knowne, and the rather, for that none could learne where hee made his abode, knowing that it could not bee farre from the Citie. The Persian messenger made such expedition in performing his message, that in short space there were gathered together of sundrie nations, another mighty Army: first came the king of Natolia, being nearely allied to the Persian, with a great army of Natolians, the King of Libia, with thirty thousand Libians, and the King of Licia, with forty thousand men at armes, and of Phrigia twenty thousand: and to repaire the decayed campe of the King of Persia, came fifty thousand. This last Armie soone landed in Thessaly, and pitched their Tents on the plaine of Pharsalia, of whose approach both the Persians and Thessalians had knowledge, to the com­fort of the one, and to the discomfort and terror of the other: by meanes whereof the Thessalians being before in mirth, beganne to waxe carefull of their estate: and therefore sent [Page] twenty thousand horsemen well armed out of the Citie, to this ende, that at al times they might succour them with a fresh sup­plie, for that they knewe they should néede all the helpe they could possible make: who béeing abroade, soone tooke order, that the Persians in their Roades could scarcely finde any cat­tell or other vi [...]tualls.

These newe Forces béeing all ioyned together with the Persians, besette the Citie anewe with double Trenches and Fortifications round about, so that there could none passe in or out, which caused Dionisius and the Bohemian King (hauing made suruey of their store) to consider that there was not pro­uision enough within the Citie for such a number of Souldiers for one moneth, making account that it was the onely course, either vallantly to driue backe the enemie, or ignominiously to abide their mercy, and therfore determined the next day to issue out vppon them, which they in pollicie did, not with hope to vanquish such an Armie, but to lette the Persians knowe, that they were not discouraged with their huge multitudes: which purpose of theyrs was thus furthered by the blacke Knight, who early on the next morning hadde buckled on his Armour, and was come before the Tentes of the Persians, and espying such a huge and mightie multitude of newe come Souldiours, that alreadie hadde vnited their Forces with the Persians, and by enquyrie, hée soone learned who they were, and therefore re­solued to vse his woonted manner of challenge: which when the Persian King beheld, hée made relation thereof vnto the King of Natolia, and also what valiant actes the Blacke knight had doone, entering so farre in commendation of him, that the King of Lycia standing by, being of a haughtie and proude disposi­tion, beganne to disdaine to heare him so highly commended, thinking himselfe able to conquere and ouercome any, for hée was estéemed to be one of the be [...] Knightes in the Worlde: which made him replie vnto y^e king of Persia in this sort, that hée would soone prooue that there was no Knight in Thessaly able to combatte the King of Licia: therefore a [...]ming himselfe, [Page] hée went forth to meete the blacke knight, who no sooner [...] him, but hee set spurres to his horse, and ran at him with such force, that he ouerthrew both horse, and man to the ground: the King of Licia séeing himselfe thus foyled, soone got vp and drewe his sworde, but the blacke knight disdaining to cope a­ny further with him, whom hee had already conquered, turned his horse, and rode from him, which so vexed the King of Licia, being enraged to see his owne shame, and with anguish of the bruis [...] hee receiued in the fall, that he would haue murthered himselfe, but that his knights hindered him.

CHAP. XIII.

PArismus beeing readie for the next en­counter, there was in the Tente of Phri­gia two knights, estéemed the onely men in the world for valour, one whereof had before time serued the Persian king, in his warres against Bohemia, whose name was Pollipus, the other named Zoylus, whose match or equall in armes he had neuer met withall, beeing withall so vnmercifull and tyrannous, that by his trechery in fight he had subdued many thousand knights in his trauels. This Pollipus was desirous to trie his force against the Blacke knight, and soone mounted himselfe, being a most gallant proportioned and comely knight. The blacke knight being still ready for any incounter, met Po­lipus with such force, that both their staues were shiuered in peeces, the blacke knight not once moouing in Saddle, but Pollipus with the focre of his bl [...]w lost one of his stirrops. The [Page] blacke knight, not once moouing in his saddle, but Polippus with the force of the blow lost one of his stirrops, the blacke Knight hauing drawne his sword, ready to combat Pollipus, espied vpon his Armour the deuise of three Falcons, and sud­dainly put vp his sword againe, which when Pollipus per­ceiuing, he maruelled there [...]t, and asked him the combate, the black knight said, pardon me worthy sir, for I am bound not to combat any that weareth that Armor, and without any more words departed. Polippus wondring thereat, at last remem­bred, that when he was with the Persian king, besieging Bo­homia, he made a couenant with Parismus, neuer to combat a­ny, that had the deuise of the branch of roses vpon his armour, which was Parismus armor, & Parismus likewise promised him the like, therfore he thought that the blacke knight was either Parismus himselfe, or some knight whom Parismus had bound by the like oath. The occasion of which vow passed betwixt Pa­rismus and Pollipus, was growne through the excéeding loue and kindnes that had passed betwixt them from their youth, being brought vp together in the vniuersity. Wherefore Pol­lippus studying what he might be, and reioycing that hee had so worthy a knight to his friend, rode backe to the Persians tent, who stood gazing to sée euent of this Combat, but maruel­led that they parted so friendly.

Pollipus beeing returned, told the Kings of Persia and Natolia, that hee refused the combat, the reason was as hee thought the blacke Knight knewe him, otherwise hee knewe not what might be the cause. Adonius, the King of Bohemia, Oliuia, Laurana, and the rest, all this while wondred at the blacke Knights behauiour, but most of all to sée him part so friendly with the Phrigian Knight. Whilest they were in this admiration, they beheld the most valiant Zoylus ready to encounter the blacke knight, the Persians now thinking to see the blacke Knights downefall, for that Zoylus had vow­ed neuer to depart vntill hee had destroied him: with whom the blacke Knight mette with such aduantage, that maugre [Page] the force of Zoylus he ouerthrew him to the ground, and him­selfe had lost both his stirrups. Zoylus soone recouered his Horse, and with furious rage they both mette with their swords drawne, when beganne a most terrible and cruell bat­tell, that all that behelde the same, were amazed at the va­lour of both the knights, in which cruel manner they contined for two houres space, both being grieuously hurt, but neuer weary nor willing to leaue off: at last the blacke Knight sée­med weary, and only warded the furious strokes that Zoi­lus gaue him, Zoylus thinking indeede, that hee had fained, laide on such blowes with such swiftnesse and force, that all the whole company of the beholders, déemed the black knight almost vanquished. Zoylus still pursued him with forcible blowes, and the blacke Knight still warded: so long they continued in this manner, that the Phrygian beganne to waxe wearie, and also to suspect the blacke Knights pollicie, therefore staying his hande, he said: Knight, I giue thee leaue to aske pardon for thy life, or else be sure thou art but dead.

The blacke Knight casting his eies towards the Tower, where his beloued Laurana stoode beholding the combatte, and wauing his sworde most couragiously about his heade, answered: No dastard Phrygian, (quoth hee) I scorne thy proffer: with which words, he so freshly assaulted the Phry­gian, that in short space he draue him to deuise how to saue his life: for hee had mangled and cut his body in many pla­ces, that his Steede was all coloured with the bloud that ranne from his woundes, which caused the Phrygian to thrust at the blacke Knight, with such force and furie, that hee wounded him most grieuously on the left side, which wound, and withall the remembrance the blacke Knight had who beheld the combatte, caused him with both his handes to strike such a deadly blowe at the Phrygian, that lighting full on his Beauer, the force and vigour thereof, both [Page] vnbuckled the same, and his Sword cut off his right eare, and wounded him so sore in the face that he fell on his Horse necks senselesse, the blacke Knight strooke another blow at him with such a maine force, that had not the Phrygians Horse started with the glimmering sight of his sword comming, he had there parted his head from his shoulders, and the Horse ranne loose about the fields, at last the Phrygian beganne to recouer him­selfe, and looking about him, hee espied Parismus with his sword put vp, and himselfe without a weapon, that what with shame and furie, he was almost madde.

These Combattants were no sooner parted, but the Thessa­lian horsemen by a priuie Watch-word, from out the Citie, rushed suddenly vpon the Persians at vnawares, who expe­cted no such matter, and had their mindes otherwise busied, so that before they could be in Armes to defende themselues, the Thessalians had made a great slaughter amongst them, which the black Knight perceiuing, though he were gréeuously woun­ded, made such hauock among the Persians, that al men déemed him rather to be a Diuell then a mortall creature, with whom Pollipus met, but would not once offer to offend him.

Dionisius, the Bohemian King, the King of Hungaria, the Prince of Sparta, Lord Remus, Osiris, and Oristus like­wise issued out vpon the Persian forces in seuerall Troupes, which so amazed the Natolians, Phrigians, and the other Na­tions of the Army, that they maruelled whence the Thessali­ans could haue such aide, but their comming amongst them on such a suddaine, made so cruell and mighty a slaughter, that by that time the day was ended, they had slaine of y^e Persians fifty thousand, which caused them euer after to be more circumspect and wary. All the Souldiers beeing retired into their places, the blacke Knight likewise withdrewe himselfe towards the Wood, Pollipus hauing al this day very diligētly followed him being almost come to the Woods side, set spurres to his horse and ouertooke the blacke Knight, who espying him, stayed his comming, & knowing him to be the knight with whom he had [Page] combatted that day, by the thrée Faulcons on his Armor most kindly saluted him, and demanded what might be the cause of his comming vnto him. Who replyed thus: Most worthy Knight (quoth hee) my humble suit vnto you is, that you would vouchsafe me so much fauour, as to let me vnderstand the cause you refused the Combat with me this day? Gentle Knight (quoth Parismus) you must needs pardon me for that, vntill I know whether you are the worthy Pollipus of Phry­gia, whom I iudge you to be by those Armes.

Indeed (quoth hee) I am the same Pollipus, and the chiefest cause of my comming vnto you, is my earnest desire to bee ac­quainted with you, though vnworthy, for that I know you could not come to the knowledge of mee, but by the vertuous Parismus, who is now dead, in whose defence if you beare armes, I will with you doe my endeudur to reuenge his death against mine owne Countrey, for I am thereunto bound. Worthy knight (quoth he) if you will vouchsafe to take such simple entertainement as my poore lodging doth afford, I will make knowne vnto you my whole desire: which Pollipus wil­lingly accepted, and being come to the Caue, Pollipus maruel­led to sée so worthy a knight in such an obscure place, but being come in, he was soone vnarmed, and then Parismus knew him to be his friend, and taking him by the hand, led him aside, and then made himselfe known vnto him: whereat Pollipus won­dred, and so with excéeding ioy, most louingly embraced him: and after supper was ended (which was prouided by the Out­lawes, & cleanly drest by the Damsel,) Parismus declared vnto him the whole circumstance of this tragedy, wherwith Pollipus was so inwardly vexed, to heare of Sicanus falshood, y^t he vowed for euer to remaine his professed enemy, they continued in the caue al the night, the one recounting vnto y^e other their forepas­sed friendship, at last it was cōcluded betwixt them, that Polli­pus should still continue there, and therfore prouided him other Armour, that thereby he might not be knowne. It was some three wéekes space before Parismus could recouer his wounds, [Page] during which time the Thessalians had receiued much dam­mage by their enemies, growing into feare of Famine, for that their victuals beganne to waxe scant, their courage being like­wise somewhat abated, for that they saw not the black knight in all that time come into the field, as his wonted manner was: therefore they concluded by a generall consent to Parley with the king of Persia, and appointed Lord Remus to be the messenger: who comming to the Persian king, told him that Dionisius king of Thessalie did desire to parley with his High­nes whom he knew not that he had any way offended. Whose message, the Persian King kindely accepted, and vpon his Kingly promise protested to continue a truce for that day, ap­potniting the place of meeting, to be on the Greene before the west gate of the City: whither he came with the Kings that were with him, and Sicanus his Sonne: whither also Dioni­sius, and the King of Bohemia, with all the rest of the Poten­tates on the Thessalian party likewise came. Many things béeing alleaged on both sides, the one in accusation of Sicanus, the other in defence of his innocency, at last by consent of all, a peace was concluded for twenty daies, and on the twentieth day it was concluded that this Controuersie should be decided by battel, and the conditions were these: That if Dionisius could not bring thrée knights to combate with thrée of the Per­sians, that then he should acknowledge himselfe subiect to the Persian king, and also should deliuer vnto Sicanus, his faire daughter Laurana, to be at his disposition, and Sicanus to enioy the Crowne after his death: and if the Thessalians should conquere the Persian knights, then immediately the Persian should remooue his Forces, and Sicanus should acknowledge the truth of the Fact, vpon which conditions the peace was concluded, and firmely ratified, by the generall Oathes of both the kings of Persia and Thessalia. During which time of peace Parismus & Pollipus would vsually come abroad, both armed in white Armour, with Plumes of white feathers, and white Steedes gallantly attired: & be held the Persians and Thessa­lians [Page] continually euery day combatting for triall of their man­hood, but stil the Phrygian Zoylus, and y^e two Persians, Bran­dor and Ramon, bore away the victory, that the Thessalians would no more encounter with them: which draue Dionisius into such a deep study what Knights to prouide against the ap­pointed day of combat, altogether dispairing of the Blacke Knight, for that he has not beene séene a long time amongst them, and also for that Oristus & Osiris were so gréeuously hurt that it was impossible for them to recouer their health by the time appointed. Parismus hearing of this conclusion, told Pol­lipus, that if he would accompany him to be one of Lauranaes Champions, he would be for euer [...]ound to requite that curte­sie: which gentle request Pollipus kindly accepted. The third that Parismus had appointed, was one of the Out-lawes that perserued his life, whose valour exceeded most of the Kinghts in Thessalie, though he endured some secret disgraces.

Laurana maruelled that during the time of those warres (be­ing so famous as they could not choose but bee spread through most part of the world) she could heare no newes of Parismus, iudging him now for a certaine truth to be dead, for otherwise she thought it could not be, for she knewe if the least report of those wars were but come to his hearing, he would returne to aide her from Sicanus, whom she so much abhorred, that it was a griefe to her to heare him named: withall, remembring in what peril, both her Father, her Countrey, and her selfe, were brought by his tyranny, and that this misery exceeding all the rest, was now fallen vpon her, that shee must finde Champi­ons to defend her, or else she must be thrall to him, which was [...]ore gréeuous vnto her then ten thousand deaths: the remem­brance of which extremities, caused her to brust forth into these exclamations: Most vnhappy and accursed wretch that I am, how can I exclaime sufficiently against my hard de­stinies, that haue brought me in danger of him whom I mor­tally hate, whose very name is odious in my hearing, who by his treachery hath robbed me of my hearts delight, and conti­nually [Page] workes my endlesse torment: had my vnlucky starres allotted me to some vntimely death, or otherwise wrought my misery, then could I haue endured this martirdome with pa­tience, and quietly haue suffered the extreamest calamitie, but my euill destiny farre exeedeth all misery, and hath shut mee from all hope of comfort in this my affliction, by the death of my vertuous Lord, and deare friend Parismus, whose ghost is busied with diuine contemplations, and not tormented as I am with temporall vexations. I would willingly follow him to Elizium, there to retaine the fruition of his heauenly company, but my destinies likewise haue allotted mee a co­wards heart, not daring to execute my will vpon my selfe: my forward minde likewise disswadeth mee by many impossi­ble perswasions, that in this extreamity, I know not whose aide to implore: my Parismus is dead, my Fathers Knights mangled for my sake, and all things so contrary to good suc­cesse, that vnlesse I bee deliuered from this tyrant Sicanus, by some admirable and strange meanes, I must of necessity fall into his loathsome power, whose serpentine breath doth infect my heart with deadly feare. With these and such like exclama­tions, Laurana tormented her selfe continually: At last the appointed day of combat was come, against which time (by the appointment of Dionisius) there were stately scaffolds ere­cted for the beholders, one for the King of Persia, at the one end, and the other for Dionisius and the Thessalian Péeres.

CHAP. XIIII.

THe night before the Combattants should meet, Parismus with counsell of Pollipus: atti­red Dina the Uirgin like a Forrest nimph, in most rich apparell, and sent her vnto the Court of Dionisius with these Uerses writ­ten.

The damsell being instructed of Parismus what shée should doe, made all haste vnto the Pallace, where she was no sooner come but she was conducted into the great Hall, where was Dionisius, Oliuia, the King of Bohemia, and the King of Hungaria, with his faire Quéene Armida, the Prince of Spar­ta, and the Lady Isabella his sister, with a number of other Lords and gallant Ladies. Who beholding the damsell, mar­uelled with what message shee came, who beeing before [Page] the King, humbly reuerencing her selfe vpon her knee, tolde him, that shee had a message to deliuer vnto the Princesse Lau­rana, who being sent for, the Damosell presented vnto her a scutchion, wherein was portrayted a Knight, wounded by thrée slaues, and a description how they couered his body as dead, with Mosse, and vnderneath, how the same knight was found by another Knight, and carried to a Caue, which was done in most exquisite manner. Laurana hauing a while vew­ed the same, and red the verses written vnderneath, deliuered the same vnto the King: who hauing likewise read the verses, most kindely thanking the Damosell for her paines, referring the answere to his Daughter, who willed the damosell to signi­fie vnto the Knight that sent her, that shee did most willingly accept him for her Champion, willing her to deliuer vnto him a rich imbroydered scareff, which she requested he would weare for her sake. The Damosoll hauing receiued her message, and rich reward, departed.

Assone as she was gone, all the Court was comforted by this Message, and prepared to attyre themselues in their stateliest robes the next day, the more to discourage the ene­mie. This Damosell soone returned to Parismus, and deliue­red the message Lauerana had sent him, and the scarffe which shee requested him to weare as her fauour, which hee kist, and rekist, because it came from the most vertuous Mistresse of his affection.

The next day, the Thessalian King, the King of Bohemia, the King of Hungaria, and the rest, seated themselues on the Scaffolde, likewise Oliuia the Queene, the Queene of Hungaria, and the beautifull Laurana, whose splendor so darkened the beautie of the rest, that shée ap­peared like golden Scinthia, amongst the twinkling Starres, the crimson colour shining so fresh in her Christall chéekes, and as Claret wine and Milke mixte together, béeing so comely faire, so vertuous and chaste, so courteous and con­stante, so milde and mercifull, as shée was no way to bee [Page] equalled, and yet bearing a minde so farre from pryde, that shee disdained not the meanest person in Thessaly, whose Royall personage séemed an Ornament to all the whole as­sembly. The King of Persia, the Natolan King, the King of Licia and Libia, were seated on the Scaffolde, and next vn­der them the Persian contributories, which when the Thes­salians behelde, they supposed one parte of the worlde was come to destroye them. The Persian Knightes came into the lists, the first béeing the valiant Zoylus, attyred all in redde, with most riche caparisons of beaten Golde, with a plume of redde feathers bespangled with Golde, nexte came the valiant Brandor, and Ramon, attired in most rich colours of blewe, nothing differing, because they were Bre­thren, who gallantlie mannaged their Stéedes with such feature, that one would haue iudged thrée comelier Knights coulde not haue béene founde, and ranging thrée or foure times about the listes, but séeing no enemie approaching, they stared and gazed as if they thought scorne to stay the Thessalians comming: but stare, gaze, and stay they might, for the Thessalians Champions came not an houre after that, which draue Dionisius into such an agonie, that hee could haue torne his haire from his head, fearing least the message the Damosell brought, might bee deuised by the Persians to delude him withall, that hée and all the rest were driuen into such an extasie, that they sate like men amazed, not knowing howe or which way to saue themselues from dishonour. Laurana likewise, seeing her expectation crossed, and doubting nowe the worst, waxed fainte with inwarde griefe, and the liuelie redde beganne to fade out of her Chéekes, that shee had fallen from the place where shee satte, hadde shee not bene reuiued with a sudaine showt the people made, who espyed the thrée Champions come galloping a­long the plaines, which so reuiued the rebated heartes of the Thessalians, that they seemed like men newely raised from death to life. The sodaine reioycing somewhat daunted [Page] the Persians, because they were before per sixaded they shoul haue the conquest without battell, and also they feared least th Blacke knight might bee one of them that were the Combat tants.

By this time Parismus, Pollipus, and the Out-lawe were come to the Listes, their Armours being [...]iluered all ouer, thrir Apparell, Plumes and Stéedesall white, their Staues, Capa­risons, and Furnitures all alike, nothing differing in all their Ornaments, but that Parismus wore the Scarffe Lauarana had sent him, and Pollipus in his Crest a freshe branche of bloo­med Palme, & hauing in most gallant manner marched twice or thrice about the Lists, they came backe to the Races ende, and there attended to knowe Dionisius pleasure.

Parismus still hauing his eyes seated on the Uertuous Lady Laurana, at last Dionisius came downe from the seate of State, and most kindely saluted him, telling them, since it was their pleasure so much to doe him honour, as to become his Combat­tants, hée would (if it pleased God to graunt them the Uicto­rie,) not be vnmindefull of their Courtisie, nor vngratefull for their paines.

No sooner was Dionisius Seated againe, but the Trumpet (according to the woonted manner,) beganne to summon these Champions to the battell. Parismus looking backe vppon Lau­rana, (as if from thence hée had fetcht his being,) waued his Launce about his heade, and the Champions mette with such fury, that shiuering their Launces into a thousand péeces, they passed by without any harme at all, then drawing their swords Parismus encountred Zoylus, Pollipus Brandor, and the Out­law Ramon, betweene whom began a most firce, terrible, and cruell battell, that in short space the Armours [...]lue in peeces, and the blood ran down aboundantly on either party, in which most cruell fight they continued by the space of two houres, neither party seeming to yeeld. At last Parismus being inra­ged at the valour of his enemy, and knowing that it was now [Page] no time of daliance, because hee saw the Out-law beginne to faint, assailed the valiant Zoylus so fiercely, that hee could scarcely withstand his furie, and soone had died by the vn­conquering arme of Parismus, but that the Out-law had re­ceiued such a wound by the hand of Ramon, that he fell down dead vnder his horse, which somewhat refreshed Zoylus, for that Ramon taking the aduantage, also assailed Parismus, which draue him to his vttermost shifts. At last hee espied a péece of Armour broken from Ramons arme, in which place he gaue him such a wound, that he let his Horse raynes fall, and his S [...]eede being at liberty beganne to wander disorderly about the lists. Zoylus in the meane time, being well refreshed with the aide of Ramon, strooke such a forcible blow at Paris­mus, that it pierced his armour on his left arme, and lighted so full on his Thigh, that hée was grieuously wounded, which blow, turned Parismus senses into that extreame fury, that with all his force, striking with both his hands at Zoylus, hée [...]mote him on the head with such furie, that he fell down from his horse: at which blow all the field showted, and Parismus swords burst.

During which time, the two other two Champions conti­nued the Combat most brauely, & with much commendation, but greatly to the disaduantage of Brandor, who was a mighty strong, and bigge boned Knight, and strooke his blowes with such force, that had not Pollipus nimbly auoided them, he could not haue endured his fight. At last Pollipus hauing espied his aduantage, thrust at Brandor with such might, that the sword lighting full on a broken place of his armour, ranne quite tho­row his body, and he fell downe starke dead: by which time, Ramon had recouered his senses, and séeing Parismus to haue vanquished Zoylus, assayled him (weaponlesse as he was) and wounded him in two or three places, but soone Parismus gotte within him, clasped him in his armes, & with maine force threw him forth of his saddle, & in the fall, burst his shoulder, whereof he died: wherwith the whole assembly gaue such another shout [Page] that the earth séemed to shake with the voyces, presently the whole States on the Thessalian partie, conducted the Combat­tans with all Solemnitie, vnto a most riche Pauillion, erected onely for the same purpose: where they were no sooner arriued, but Dionisius most louingly embraced them in his armes, and with infinite courtesies thanked them for their paines, de [...]ring them to vnarme themselues, that his Physitions might search their woundes, which they refused to doe, vntill the conditions & couenants of the combat were performed by the King of Per­sia, who hearing their iust request (could not in that honourable assemblie, so much dishonour himselfe, as to breake his worde) presently gaue order that all his Forces should be dismist. And also calling Sicanus vnto him, commaunded him vppon the▪ du­tie and reuerence hée bare vnto him, to confesse the certainty in­déede, whether hée or any by his procurement, had slaine Pa­rismus. My Lord and Father (quoth he) by the reuerence I owe your Maiestie, and the rest of the Kings in this assemblie, I am constrained to refraine from vttering what I would, but vnder your honourable corrections, I denounce him for a vil­laine and a Traytor that accuseth me for Parismus murther.

In the like reuerence, to this most honourable assemblie (quoth Parismus,) I returne that Uillaine and Traytor to thy selfe Sicanus: for y^t thou liest, for thou hyredst thrée of thy Tar­tarians with promises of great preferment, who the same day that Parismus was missing, murthered him most treacherously in the Wood hereby, my selfe found his bodie, and héere I stand to prooue against thée, that like a Uillanie and a Traytor thou didst this déede: In whose behalfe, I dare thee to the Combat, and forasmuch as thou thinkest Parismus had no feiends for [...]o to maintaine his iust quarell, I charge thée as thou art a knight and honourest Armes, not to refuse this Combat: which chal­lenge Sicanus in a great rage excepted, & presently went to arme himself, thinking that he might easily be ouercome, for that he was alreadie grieuouslie wounded. Did what Dionisius, and the King of Bohemia could, Parismus stil demaunded the Com­bat, [Page] whose constancie and resolution they maruailed at, and the whole assembly were so desirous of his conquest, that with applaudes and commendations, they extolled his honourable resolution. Laurana seeing her Champion readie to vnder­take a fresh battell, came to him, and with hartie thankes for his honourable paines taking in her behalfe, desired him to desist from the combat, for that it might much endaunger his person, Parismus lighting from his horse, reuerently kissed her hans, the very touch whereof, reuiued his spirits with ioye, and tolde her, that if it were her pleasure Parismus wrongs should go vnreuenged, he would soone desist: otherwise being vowed her poore Knight, he would either at that instant make Sicanus confesse his treason, or spend his latest breath in pur­suite of that quarrell: and therefore hee most humbly craued her pardon.

Laurana with a curious eye marked him whilest that hée talked with her, and though he were much altered, and chan­ged his voice as cuningly as might be, yet she déemed it like the voyce of her deare Parismus, which shée was the rather induced vnto, for that she sawe a Ring on his finger that she had before giuen to Parismus, which draue her into such an agonie betweene hope and dispaire, that had not her father and many others bene by, shee had there resolued her selfe of that doubt: wherewith, and with the sight of the blood that issued out of his woundes, shee endured such an inward af­fliction and torment of minde, that her sences were ouer­maistred with a pittifull regard of his estate. But presently came Sicanus mounted on his Courser, so Parismus humbly taking his leaue of Lauarana, mounted his stéede, and com­ming toward Sicanus, beganne to vnbuckle his white ar­mour, which was so artificially made, that it was but a case to his armour vnderneath, which was no sooner off, but hee was presently knowne to be the blacke knight that had fought so valiantly in the behalfe of Thessaly, and had slaine in se­uerall Combats an incredible number of Persians, which [Page] so daunted the hearts of the Persians, that they alotted him the conquest, before euer that he beganne the Combat.

The blacke Knight at the first encounter, burst two of the Combattants ribbes, and in short time, with forcible blowes, beate him from his Horse, and allighted to haue parted his head from his shoulders, but the King of Persia seeing his sonne in that perell, ranne to the place, and desired the blacke knight to spare his life, which hee obtained: and vnlacing his Helmet to giue him breath, found that it was not Sicanus, but another Knight that hee had hyred in his stéede, for that him­selfe durst not meete so valiant a knight hand to hand: which Parismus séeing, in great rage would haue slaine him, but hee was disswaded by Pollipus. This cowardly Iest was so odi­ous, that euer after Sicanus was accounted the most recreant knight liuing, but being of a shamelesse disposition, he nothing regarded the same.

CHAP. XV.

THe blacke Knight hauing ended this com­bat to his vnspeakeable commendatio, was with Pollipus in moste braue and tryumphant manner conducted vnto the Pallace, with the noyse of Drummes, Trumpettes, and ringing of Belles, by the Kinges of Thessalie, and Bohemia, [Page] and by the Persian kings, who so well liked the blacke knights behauiour, that they resolued to stay some dayes there, as well to be acquainted with this valiant knight, as also to do him al the honour they could, thought by his valour they had lost the victorie. The stréetes where they passed, whereby the Citizens strowed with flowers, the windowes & doores, and house tops, were filled with abundance of people, (that they séemed like stages) they came to behold these conquerours. Some presen­ted them with garlands of Bayes, in token of victorie, some with roses, some with gifts, some with commendation, euery one with excéecting prayses of their valour, that it were a tedi­ous toyle to rehearse the manifolde honours that were done them as they passed along the stréetes: and as they passed by the Marchants house, where Parismus had lately escaped the danger of the dogs, hée espyed Violetta standing in her fathers doore, attended by thrée or foure maides, very neatly appa­relled, who presented Parismus with a most rich embroydered scarffe, so artificially wrought, that it excelled all the most cu­rious workes in Thessaly: wherein wee had most exquisitely drawne out of the whole manner of Parismus aduenture with her in her fathers house, which gift hee most kindely accepted, being by that time hée had vowed the same, come to the Pal­lace, where they were welcommed by the Quéene and her Daughter Laurana, with soundes of Musicke, and excéeding ioy: after the Quéene had vsed some spéeches, Lauarana most heartily thanked him, that he vouchsafed to be her Champion, but her countenance be wrayed her inward care, and her sadde behauiour, her mournfull thoughts, her minde being drawne to the extreamest limits of respite, and giuen ouer it selfe to the most bitter pangs of sorrowfull meditation, that Parismus maruailed to see her constant resolution, that could be altered by no meanes of ioy, nor once forgette him that had bene so long missing. Dionisius likewise welcommed thither the King of Persia, and the rest of the kings in his companie, whose roy­all entertainment was m [...]uailously liked, and commended [Page] of all. The Champions (according as the custome was) were seated at a table ordained for the same purpose, with great state and Dionisius and the King of Bohemia came vnto them (as the manner was with them) to disarme them for their more honourable entertainement. But Parismus seeing his Father comming to doe an office of dutie to him, rose from his seate, and knéeling downe requested a voone at his hands: the King of Bohemia, séeing him kneele, willed him to aske what hee would. My Lord, said he, my sute is, that you would forgiue Parismus enemies: the King of Bohemia (little thinking that would haue beene his request) wondred what reason he had to aske pardon for his sonnes enemies, and said vnto him. Sir knight, I would gladly know why you aske pardon for them that haue murdered my sonne? My Lord, answered he, because Parismus is liuing, wherewith he pulled off his Helmet, and the King his father knew him, and caught him in his armes with such excéeding ioy, that the teares ran downe his white beard in aboundance.

Dionisius and Oliuia likewise espying him, embracing him, with a thousand hearty welcomes, and the whole Court was filled with excéeding ioy for his returne. The king of Persia and all the rest of his part [...] likewise, came vnto him, and desired him to remit all discontent, that had passed betwixt them, for that now they did repent them for the iniury th [...]y had done to him: the like honour was done to the Phrigian Pollipus, al ad­miring the wonderfull vertues of Parismus: and recounting the famous acts he had done, seemed to be rauished in minde, with ioy that it was he, that had so honourably defended him­selfe against all knights that did combat with him. Presently they were all seated at a most royall feast. Where Parismus before the King of Persia, and all the Kings present, rehearsed the whole truth of Sicanus conspiracie against him, and how he was perserued, and how that he had liued euer since in the caue amongst the Outlawes, and how he came by the blacke armor which discourse did so much disgrace Sicanus, and extoll his [Page] owne commendations, that euery one reioyced at his good fortune, and contemned Sicanus falshoode. Parismus hauing ended his discourse, maruelled that hee could not see Laurana to welcome him, but shee being nothing delighted with any newes, but of his returne, and nothing at all thinking he had béen her companion all that while, absented her selfe from their company, for that her fancies were otherwise busied, and had withdrawne her selfe to her chamber, only accompanied with Leda her maide. Dionisius séeing that Laurana was not there, willed one of his gentlemen in the hearing of Parismus, to sig­nifie vnto her, that her champion staied for her welcome. Pa­rismus hearing his spéeches, desired him the fauour, that hee might goe and visit her himself, wherwith Dionisius was well contented, and he, & Pollipus with him, being vnarmed, went to Lauranaes lodging, which they found fast shut, but Parismus longing to behold her perfections, whereby his life was main­tained, knockt at the doore, and Leda came & opened the same, who seeing him, was so surprised with ioy, that shee ran in a­gaine without speaking a word, and told her Mistresse that Parismus was at the doore: at which word, Laurana started, saying: I pray thee doe not torment mee with these newes of ioy, for I know they cannot bee true, for [...]ull often thou hast kindly deceiued my expectation. Deere Mistris, said she, beleeue me it is most true, and againe ran to the dore, telling Patismus that her Mistris would be very glad to see him.

Parismus entred the Chamber, and with such seruency▪ de­lighted himselfe to behold her presence, that his, wits were ra­uished with a heauen of ioy, and Laurana hauing espied him, was so surprized with vertuous amazement, to behold his per­son, that the teares fell from her eies, and her heart lept in her breast. Who being met, most louingly kist each other, so much surfetting with delight each of others presence, that their speech was turned into a delightfull embracing of hearty con­tent, not to be expressed: which being ended, Laurana came to Pollipus, and welcomed him, with so sweet a kisse, that [Page] had she not beene the beloued of Parismus, he would haue vow­ed himselfe her continuall seruant. At last Laurana being raui­shed with beholding her déere Parismus, taking him by the hand, vttered these words. Most vertuous Prince, your pre­sence and preseruation, hath brought vnto mee that content that I am not able to expresse: your welcome, is a maidens hū ­ble and hearty thankes for your paines taking in my behalfe, which is all the reward that I can make you: I acknowledge my selfe so farre bound vnto your vertues, as I shall endeauour during my life, to require your kindnesse to my power. I can count my selfe to haue receiued my life at your hands, the pre­seruation of my parents, and welfare of my Country, that all that may be ascribed vnto happinesse, is mine onely by your vertuous power: that I protest, wherein soeuer I may bee in any degree thankfull vnto you, I here offer to be ready at your disposition. I had entertained, sorrow, but you haue banished the same from my heart, and brought me that happy content, that I acount my selfe so farre indebted vnto you for the same, as I shall neuer be able to requite: which words she sealed vp­on his lips with many kisses.

Parismus answered, my déere Lady, whatsouer I haue done I account as nothing, in respect of that my willing hart would haue attempted for your sake, and my deserts nothing worthy the thankes you render to me for the same, being so far bound to you in the bonds of perfect duty, as I account my life, and al that I haue, vnworthy to be spent in recompence of the least of your fauours, humbly thanking you for reteining so good o­pinion of my vnworthinesse. Laurana knowing that her Fa­ther and the King of Bohomia, staied for Parismus returne, with a ioyfull countenance accompanied them down into the Hall: and being come to the King, My Lord and Father quoth she, I desire your Maiesty, that these worthy knights may be committed to my charge, to haue their wounds cured which they haue receiued in my behalfe.

[Page] Daughter said Dionisius, I commend the regard thou hast of their health, and commit them into thy hands, being a charge of an high account, praying thee to vse them in the kindest sort, for they haue worthily deserued to bee well esteemed: And my Lord Parismus, (quoth hee) sithence it is my Daugh­ters request, I hope you are contented to be her Guest. My Lord, said Parismus, else I should shew my selfe much ingrate­full.

Laurana presently conducted them vnto two most rich a­dorned chambers, which shee had most sumptuously beautified with iewels, and costly furnitures, wought of the most richest worke in the world, all of greene and crimson sattin, bordered with Gold and Azure, his bedde was framed most curiouslie, standing in maner of a Pauillion, the postes that bare it were of Iuory, beset with Rubies, the c [...]rds of gréene silke, the couer of the rich Arabian silke, beset with Pearle, the curtaine of the same, the Chambers adorned with most beautifull Pictures to delight the eie, the statelinesse of this lodging séemed in ri [...]h­nesse nothing inferiour to the monument of Mansolus, beeing one of the worlds wonder, they had not there remained long, admiring the beauty of the place, but their eares were deligh­ted with the sound of most pleasant musicke, vnto which ha­uing a while listned, Laurana desired Parismus to accept of this for his lodging, telling him that Pollipus lodging was like­wise adioyning vnto his, that at their pleasures, they might enioy each others company, whither Pollipus was honoura­bly directed.

Parismus most kindely thanked her, whose heart was ex­ceedingly delighted with beholding her beauty, the Kings Phys [...]ions were by this time come, which caused Laurana with a kind Farewell, to bid Parismus Adieu for that night, whose heart began to waxe sad at her departure, the Phisitians had soone drest his wounds, which were many, but none mor­ [...]all, and being wearied with his daies exercise, these two wor­thy Knights willingly gaue themselues to rest, where for that [Page] night we leaue them. Oristus hearing that Parismus his Lord was returned, being then in the extreamest danger of his life, by reason his wounds were then fresh, could by no meanes bee perswaded but that he would goe to see him, and therefore the next morning very earely without the knowledge of any, [...]ole down to goe to his masters lodging, beeing weake and [...]eble, but he receiued a fall, which made a rupture of his wounds in such extreame sort, that they fall againe to bleeding afresh, but [...]auing a strong heart he againe recouered his feet, and with much adoe go [...] to Parismus lodging, by which time the Physi­ [...]ians that attended him, mist him, and suspecting the truth, following him by the tract of blood, to the Princes chamber, where [...]augre the best skill of all the Kings Physitians, his blood could not be stanched, that there hee dyed in his Lords armes, whose death strooke such a passionate sadnesse to Paris­mus heart, that in many daies he could not banish the remem­brance thereof out of his minde. This newes was soone come to the knowledge of the King of Bohemia, and all the rest, who generally lamented his death, for that he was a Knight of good and honorable qualities. Parismus continued many daies in this Heauenly Paradice, where he wanted nothing that [...]ight bring comfort to his disquiet heart, being so diligently tended by the vertuous Laurana, vntill that he had fully reco­uered his health: During which time, hee often enioyed the Princesse presence, and recounted vnto her the whole truth of that which hee had passed sithence his departure from the Court, (only leauing out y^e discourse of the Merchāts Daugh­ter,) reioycing much the Lady Laurana to heare the same: who with kinde and louing kisses, blamed him for that hee would not make himselfe known to her in the Palmers wéeds, with many other kinde conferences.

CHAP. XVI.

MAny daies continued the King of Persia, with the rest of the Kings of his party, in Dionisius Court, in which time many were intrapped in the snares of Lauranaes beau­tie, which was such as would dazle the eyes of the beholders, and astonish the hearts of no simple iudgements, with a di­uine conceite, that the king of Natolia was determined to require and demand her in marriage of her Fa­ther, had he not béen kept backe by Sicanus, who caused his fa­ther the Persian King, earnestly to sollicite Dionisius to that effect: whose answer was, that his promise relyed vpon his Daughters choise, though indeede he neuer meant she should marrie the Persian, for that his behauiour and trechery had made him hated and odious in all mens sight.

Parismus now in like sort determined to worke both his owne and Lauranaes contentment: and to that purpose on a certaine time walking very solitarily in the Kings garden, stu­dying how to moue his Fathers good will to this match, in th [...] middest of his dumps, hee was encountred by the Princess [...] Laurana, who only attended by Leda, was come downe also into the Garden to take the ayre, who awaking Parismus fro [...] his dumps, with a courteous gréeting, vttered these speeches My déere Parismus (quoth she) may I be so bold as beare yo [...] company in this your solitarines, or would you but vouchsafe to impart the cause of your sadnes vnto me, that I might bee partaker of your sorrow, then should you soone perceiue, that [Page] whatsoeuer can procure your disquiet, shall likewise purchase my discontent. Parismus most reuerently taking her by the hand, said: Most vertuous Lady, I acknowledge my selfe so farre bound vnto you for many worthy fauoures vndeserued­ly bestowed vpon mee, that I know not which way to yeelde you sufficient thankes for the least of them, much lesse to re­quite them: and if I should deny to fulfill your request heere­in, vnto whom I am perpetually bound, I should shew my selfe altogether void of manners: Therefore know (most vertuous Lady) that my supposed discontentment, was a plea­sant and delightfull meditation. And calling to remembrance your manifold vertues, and vndeserued fauourable assurance you haue giuen me of your affection, that I was now deter­mining to speake to the King my Father, to request a consum­mation of our happinesse, at the King you Fathers hands, so it stand with your good liking.

My Lord (said Laurana) I wholly commit the matter to your wisdome, whom I am bound to obey, by the choise I haue made of you to be my Lord and Husband, therefore I desire you to vse that prerogatiue ouer me, that by right belon­geth vnto you.

In these and such like kind conferences they continued talking in the Garden, to both their vnspeakable ioies, being so vnited in the bondes of perfect amitie, that it was impossible to remoue their setled friendship. But Dinner time beeing come, they departed to their seuerall waies, being both high­ly contentented with the others faithfull promise.

Parismus no sooner found opportunity, but hee made his loue to Laurana knowne to his Father, who was glad of his sonnes vertuous choise, and promised him to motion the same to Dionisius, which he presently did by this occasion. As hee was walking alone, hee was encountred by Dionisius, and Oliuia the Queene, not accompanied by any: and ha­uing kindely saluted each other, Dionisius beganne to talke of the worthinesse of Parismus, and telling him [Page] that he estéemed him the most fortunate man liuing, to be the father of so vertuous a child, enting so farre into commenda­tion of him, that the King of Bohemia thought he could haue no fitter time to motion the marriage then that, and therefore answered; My Lord, I thanke you for entring into such good liking of my Sonne, whom I cannot discommend, for that he hath well deserued honor, but I haue an humble sute vnto you and the Queene heere present, in his behalfe, which if you will vouchsafe to grant, both he and I shall be bound vnto you for the same. Dionisius and Oliuia earnestly requested him to manifest the same. My Sonne (saith hee) intreated me to re­quest your honourable fauour, to contract a marriage betwixt him and your most vertuous Daughter, vnto whom hee hath wholly dedicated his affections, that I am now become an humble sutorin his behalfe. Dionisius, and the Quéene hearing his request, were so exceeding glad thereof (beeing the onely thing they desired) that taking the King of Bohomia by the hand, they told him, they were highly contentedit should be so. Thus al things falling out to their contentments, they parted for that time: Dionisius the next day assembled al his counsell and noble men together, and there mētioned the contract vnto them, who most willingly consented therto, by meanes where­of the newes of this marriage was soone published, that it came to the hearing of Sicanus, who being inraged with griefe and shame, abandoned the company of all Knights, and in short time grew to such a desperate conceit of his impaired honour, that with griefe thereof hee died, which brought some heaui­nesse to the King of Persia, and the rest: but his death was soone forgotten, for that his Father estéemed him not worthy the name and estimation of a King, and had lately growne into great dislike of him, and altogether fauoured the next Sonne Lennilus, who farre excelled his brother Sicanus in vertuous qualitie. The solemnization of Parismus marriage was ap­pointed to beginne within forty daies, to the vnspeakeable ioy of Thessalie, but especally, of the two yong Princes, in [Page] which time Dionisius sent messengers to inuite thither many Kinges and Potentates, by meanes wherof, the Fame of these nuptialls was spred in most places of the world, and many hundreth Knights determined to méete there to doe honour to Dionisius, whose vertues by report, had bene made knowne vnto them. To this marriage came the famous Emperour of Constantinoble, with many other worthy knights. The Emperours sonne of Greece, named Siches, with many vali­ant Knights, Prolomie the kings sonne of Egypt, the King of Frize, famous for Chiualry, and the most famous Champion of the world, Guido of Thrace: with many others too tedious to rehearse, who all vpon the appointed day, were royally en­tertained by Dionisius.

Parismus and Laurana were with all solemnitie brought vnto the Temple of Diana, where their rites were performed with admirable pompe, the Bridegroome being accompanied with aboue eight Kings, and the Bride being led by two Em­perours, and attended by Quéenes and many Ladies of great account: the rites and solemnities being performed with such dignitie, that it excelled the statelinesse of Hecuba, Quéene of Troy.

Thus all things being ended for that day, the night appro­ched, most part whereof, was spent in Maskes and many o­ther courtly pastimes. néedlesse to rehearse: and at last, the bride was conducted to her Bride-chamber by the Quéene of Hun­garia, and the Quéene of Sparta. Where we leaue her to her excéeding content, to entertaine her beloued Parismus: who be­haued himselfe so kindly thatnight, that Lauranaes fortresse of virginitie was battered downe, and hée had the scaling of that sweete Fort, and spotlesse puritie, and of a vertuous virgine she became a chaste wife and that night hée made her the happie mother of a goodly, boye, as shall hereafter be declared.

Dionisius for the more royall entertainment of the States there assembled, caused a most stately Tilt to be erected on a goodly gréene before the Pallace gate, the stages being most [Page] cunningly made, by expert workemen, and proclaimed a Try­umphe to be made there for seuen dayes, against all commers. The first dayes tryumph, the Prince of Sparta and his knights helde, as chiefe Challengers, who appeared before the whole assembly of States, who were seated vpon the Scaffoldes, in such royall manner, that the glorie of them séemed to excell the stately pompe of the mightie Monarch Alexander. Amongst the rest, Laurana was seated in a Chaire of state, Crowned with an Emperiall Diademe, as Ladie of the Reuels: who had prepared seuerall giftes for the Conquerours, shining like golden Phoebus, and her eyes twinkeling like two bright shi­ning starres, that her beautie made the whole assembly of straunge Knights admire her excellencie. The Prince of Sparta had his Tent pitcht at the first entring into the Listes, being as white as milke, shewing his single estate, on the toppe whereof, was artificially framed a Golden Sunne, which with his splendor beautified the Listes. This dayes tryumphe was performed by the Prince of Sparta, and his Knightes, with excéeding valour, himselfe hauing vnhorsed aboue fortie Knights, of straunge Countries, and had giuen to him by the Bride a payre of siluer Gloues, made by the cunningest work­man in the world.

Thus in great royaltie, to the excéeding pleasure of the beholders, was the first day spent, till the darke euening caused the knights to giue ouer, and betake themselus to their nights repose.

Early the next morning the knights were summoned to the Listes, by the sounde of Trumpets, the chiefe Champion for that daye, was Lord Remus of Thessalie, richly mounted vp­pon a Thessalian stéede of Iron graye, his Tente pitcht néere vnto the other, being of the colour of the Raine-bowe: on the top whereof, was artificially tramed a swift running Hart, whereby the countrey of Thessaly was famous: before him, went foure Pages richly attired, carrying some seuerall scut­chions: on the first, was portraited his Mistresse picture: on [Page] the second, thrée siluer Doues, signifing his innocencie, farre from vaine ostentation: on the third, a bleeding hart: and on the last, a man séeming desperate: who behaued himselfe with no lesse valour, then the Prince of Sparta, to the great ioy of his Lady Isabella. The third day the worthy knight Pollipus was chiefe challenger, who had his tent richly picht ouer against the Stage, being of the colour of blood, on the top whereof stoode a Lion Rampant, his stéede furnished with costly abilaments of beaten Gold, his armour after the Phrigian maner, whose matchlesse chiualry vnhorsed that day an hundred knights, and woon the prize from all the knights that encountred him. The fourth day Lord Osirus of Thessaly, was chief challenger, whose tent was pitcht in maner of a hollow trée, from whence hee is­sued, so artificially ouerspred with mosse, that hee seemed to be nothing but a lumpe thereof, running vp and downe the fielde, but so honourably hee behaued himselfe, that hee was allotted that dayes conquest.

The fift day Prince Lemulus, sonne to the King of Persia, was chiefe challenger, whose tent was of the colour of the skie, his abilaments was of the colour of Azure, beset with starres of Gold, who behaued himselfe with great honour most part of that day: but at last he was encountred by the valiant King of Frize, by whome he was vnhorsed, by reason that his stéede stumbled, & so the conquest returned to the aduerse partie. The King of Frize, vnhorsed afterwardes many worthy knightes, to his excéeding commendation,

The sixt day the King of Frize was challenged ouer the aduerse partie, who had not continued long, but hee was vn­horsed by the King of Libia, who most part of that day bare away the Prize, vntil he was encountred by Guido of Thrace, and by him vnhorsed: Guido for that day bare away the Prize, hauing vnhorsed many hundred Knights, and was like­lie to atchiue the chiefest honour of the Turnament. The seuenth day Guido of Thrace came with great triumph into the Listes, hauing his Tent pitcht in full view of the whole [Page] assembly, being of the colour of the bright gold, supported by foure Elephants, himselfe mounted vpon a coloured steede, most richly behung with abiliments of beaten gold, who be­haued himselfe most part of that day, to the shame of the Thes­salian and Persian Knights, that the whole assembly admired his valiantnesse. Which Pollipus seeing, notwithstanding his daies trinumph was past, yet hee armed himselfe, and encoun­tred Guido most brauely. The first cariere they met and broke their staues onely: likewise they had some fiue or sixe courses more, in which maugre all the force Guido vsed, he could not once moue or disaduantage Pollipus. Pollipus likewise was extreamely vexed, that he could not vnhorse Guido, that each of them being sufficiently stirred to wrath, addressed them­selues for an other encounter, when they met with such furie, that they were both vnhorsed, which Guido seeing, forgetting where he was, and disdaining to bee encountred by Pollipus any longer, drew his sword, and Pollipus did the like, when they began to combat, which Dionisius espying, comman­ded his Heralds to part them, and being both mounted againe, ready to make further triall for the victory: the Iudges con­sidering the mischiefe that might arise (for that there beganne to be a tumult in the field) sought to appease the Champions, and disswaded them to giue ouer, and so let the honors of those triumphes rest, to both of them, which Guido in great dis­daine refused, without hearing what answer Pollipus would make.

Laurana by the aduise of Parismus, sent messengers to Pol­lipus, to request him for her sake, to giue Guido leaue to ende that daies challenge, for that he himselfe had sufficiently shown his Knightly chiualrie, withall she sent him one of her gloues. Whose command Pollipus presently obeyed, being a Knight of excéeding courtesie, whereby he wan more honour then Gui­do could atchiue by the conquest. The rest of that day Guido vnhorsed many Knights and was like to carrie away the honour of the Triumph, maugre all all Knights that [Page] afterwards encountred him, which gréeued Parismus to be­hold. With all noting his pride, he secretly stole from the stage­and presently armed himselfe in armor which he had caused to be made of purpose, seeming to be olde, torne & rustie, but yet of as good proofe as might bee, being made of the purest Lydian stéele, his abiliments & furniture, seemed to be such as had lyen vp vnvsed seuen winters, and all to bee eaten with Moathes, his stéede he made to trotte like a countrey Cart horse; and his plume was of russet feathers: & accompanied with some thirty of his knights, attired like rude Countrey fellowes with battes and staues on their necks, and in a manner in the midst of the Thracians victories, hée entereth suddainly and rudely into the Lists, séeming indéede to be a very naturall Countrey peasant, elected by a companie of rude fellowes to make pastime, and being espyed of the people, hée was welcomed with exceeding showts and laughters, that now the eyes of all the beholders were bent vpon him: being come to the list, he offered to run, but Guido disdained to cope with one so base, to whom Paris­mus Knightes came and tolde him, their Maister came to runne with one but himselfe, and therefore hee should either breake a Launce, or else they would beate him out of the fielde. Wherewith Guido (with a scornefull laughter) tooke a staffe and ranne at this rustick Knight, who notwithstanding his outward showe, encountred Guido so valiantly, that had hee not beene an approued good Knight, hee had measured his length on the ground, which so vexed the Thracian, that hee ranne the second time, thinking then verily to ouerthrowe him: but it fell out contrary to his expectation, for hee coulde not with all hi [...] power mooue this countrey Champion in his saddle: but at the third course, he was himselfe vnhorsed with such violence, that both horse and man lay tumbling on the grounde. Cuido hauing receiued this exceeding foyle, in a great rage departed the fielde, and none of the contrary party encountred this Knight, but they were all foyled and ouer­throwne, that at last there was none would runne against [Page] him any more: which hée perceiuing, lighted from his Horse, and went vp the Scaffolde, whereas the Bride sate, and rudely offered to haue kissed her, but thée courteously reprooued his boldnesse, with that all began to laugh at his rude behauiour, and so [...]e beganne to thrust him backe: at last hée discouered himselfe, and [...] knowing him, woondred to sée him ar­med. Thus the whole honour of the triumph redouned to Pa­rismus, as most worthie of the same, whose behauiour was so highly commended, that all men much applanded this his last deuise: and Guido knowing him, was not greatly discontented to be foyled by so worthy a Knight. By this time the nightes blacke mantell began to ouerspread the whole earth, that Dio­nisius with the rest of the Kings, conducting Laurana in trium­phant manner, hasted to the Pallace, where after supper was ended, they continued a good parte of the night in Dauncing, and other Courtly pastimes, their entertainment being so ho­nourable, that they admired the exceeding Royaltie of Dio­nisius Court, where they afterwardes continued many dayes, spending the time of many Martiall exercises.

CHAP. XVII.

LOng time the Out-lawes continued in great pensiuenesse, for the want of theyr Captaine, much maruelling what should be become of him, and the other two that went with him: but at the last they were eased of that care, for Parismus remem­bring the benefite hee hadde receiued by [Page] their meanes, desired Dionisius to remitte their offen [...]s, who willingly graunted his request, and therefore Parismus, sent for them, who hauing knowledge that he was the man whom they had preserued, willingly came, and at his handes recey­ued their pardon, with large and bountifull rewardes. The Damosell likewise came amongst them, whom Parismus cau­sed to be worthily vsed, reporting very honourably of her ver­tues. The Emperours and Kings of Persia and Natolia, being present at the comming of these Outlawes, greatly prai­sed Parismus for the honourable care hee hadde of these poore people. Amongst the number of Knights there assembled, the Father of the Damosell chanced to be present, who very di­ligently beheld his Daughter, but knew her not, for that shee was mighty allered: but at last, hearing Dionisius make re­citall of her tragedy, and how that Osiris was hurt in her resu [...]s, by circumstance, comparing the time of her depar­ture with the same, knewe her to bee his owne Daughter, and in the presence of them all, with wéeping eies for ioy, embraced her, and shee with great delight was glad of his pre­sence. Parismus euer after vsed her father most kindely, and much estéemed her f [...]r that she had taken great paines to cure his woundes.

During the time of Parismus aboade in the Countrey of Thessaly (after that the two Emperours of Constantinople and Greece were departed, with the rest of the Knights that came to the selemnization of the Wedding, and likewise the King of Persia, and the rest of the famous Potentates, on his party, had solemnely taken their leaue, (Pollipus excepted) the chiefe Gouernours of the City of Thebes, inuited their King and Quéene, the King of Bohemia, the two new married Princes, the Prince of Sparta, and the king of Hungaria and his Quéene, the Lady Isabella, Lord Remus, Pollipus, and ma­ny other Knights, vnto a selemene feast which they prepared in their great Hal, called the Counselhouse: whose gentle cour­tesie was kindely accepted, and at the appointed day they all [Page] went thither in great Royaltie, where they were so heartilie welcommed, and so honourablie entertained by the Citizens, as it were a tedious toy [...]e to rehearse. Such Pageants, such delightfull shewessuch Musicke, and such generall triumphing and reioycing, such giftes and Commendations, giuen to the two yoong Princes, as the like was neuer presented to any Prince by his subiects before in those Regions. Amongst the rest of the Citizenst, he father of Violetta (the Damosel whome Parismus had kindelie receyued, as before is mentioned) was one of the chiefest that had ordayned, this banket, with whome likewise was his daughter, whom assoone as Parismus espied, a ruddie blushe beganne to ouerspread his chéekes, being tou­ched with the remembrance of the iniurie hée hadde done her. The Damosell Violetta, behaued▪ her selfe with such modesty in this Princely assemblie, that she was generally nored, and wel liked of al. Insomuch that Laurana hauing precisely viewed her comelinesse, began greatly to commende her vnto the Quéene her Mother, who espying occasion, called Violetta vnto her, demaunding of her whose daughter she was, who humbly re­uerencing her selfe vpon her knées, answered that she was the daughter of Signior Andrugio a Citizen. Whilest she kneeled before the Queene, Pollipus tooke such view of her perfections, that hee was sodainly stroken with Cupids fiery dart of Loue, and beganne vehemently to affect her beauty and person, that his heart was entangled in the intricate Labyrinth of her per­fections, but seing her depart, he thought therewithall his vital spirits had begunne to decay, and with a heauie sigh he brea­thed out his longing desire to be acquainted with her. Parismus likewise stood in a studie [...] how he might make some a­mends to Violetta, and therefore séeing her talke with the Quéene and Lauarana, hée came vnto them, and asked what Damosell that was that talked with them. My Lord (quoth Laurana) it is a Marchants Daughter, whose behauiour so well pleaseth mee, that I coulde wish her to spende her time in some honourable place to her preferment. Quoth he▪ if [Page] your lease. I will speake to her Father, that shee might attend your selfe: wherewith he came to Pollipus, who stood like one with a flea in his eare, and desired him to enquire which was the Father of that Damsell, and that he would request him to come to speake with him. Pollipus being glad of such an oppor­tunit [...], soone found out Violetta, and greeting her with a kind kisse, told her, that he was sent by the Prince Parismus, to in­treate her Father to come and speake with him. Shee told him that her Father was hard by, and that she would present­ly let him vnderstand his pleasure: who hauing knowledge thereof, immediately went vnto the Prince, who vsed such in­treaty, that (although very vnwillingly) he yéelded to his re­quest, and comming backe, told his daughter to what effect he was sent for, which shee was glad of, though outwardly shee made a shew of vnwillingnesse. Pollipus hauing vnderstood the cause why Parismus sent for her Father, (Parismus louing him so dearely that he would not conceale any thing from him) reuealed vnto Parismus the loue that he bare to Violetta, who promised to further him in what he could: by this time y^e ban­quet was ended, and the King departed to the Pallace, with great ioy and excéeing triumph, and soone tooke order to haue Violetta sent for, but her father séeing the messenges come, be­gan to take such sorrow for their departure, that it would haue melted a heart of stéele into teares, to heare his complaints, that the messengers pittying the sorrowes olde Andrugio made, returned without her: which draue Pollipus to such an extasie of desperate sorrow, that he seemed altogether impatient to en­dure want, but seeing on another furtherāce to his loue, he oftē repaired to old Andrugios house, and manifested his sute vnto her, who vsed him most kindly, but still delayed his sute with such excuses, that hee was thereby further intrapped in the snares of loue, and yet nothing the neerer of obtaining his sute.

At last, it was concluded betwixt Parismus and him, that Parismus should accompany him in some disguise, and make himselfe knowne to none but Violetta, thereby the sooner to [Page] procure her good liking to Pollipus, which shee was the more willing to doe, for that he thought vpon manifesting himselfe vnto her, she would not denie Pollipus request, and therefore finding a conuenient time, they went to olde Andrugeos house where they were kindely vsed of Andrugio and his Daughter Violetta, who welcommed these more kindly, then euer shee had done Pollipus comming alone, beeing thereunto drawne by an inward forwardnesse which she felt, contrary to her for­mer disposition, where they had not long continued, but Paris­mus found opportunity to greet Violetta in this sort: Faire da­mosell, quoth he, I am come vnto you an humble petitioner in the behalfe of my friend Pollipus, whose loue is such and so feruent towards your selfe, that vnlesse you pitty him, & yeeld some comsort to his care, you will be the death of the worthiest knight liuing: therefore I desire you that I may be the happy Oracle, to declare vnto him his happy Fortune, pronounced from your sacred lips. Violetta all this while stood as one ama­zed, feeling such an excéeding throbbing at her heart, that shee could not well tell what to answer: at last, being touched with remembring of his loue that had reapt the fruits of her virgini­tie, she replied in this sort: Gentle knight, quoth she, I would not willingly be any mans death, if I could otherwise choose, but to grant to this sute I cannot, without doing another as great wrong as might be: for so it is, I haue already pla­ced my affections, and haue already vowed neuer to alter them whilst life doth last in me. Which sodaine and resolute reply of hers, Parismus much commended, yet vsed many perswasi­ons in the behalfe of Pollipus, and began to demaund of her to whom she had vowed her loue, vsing many intreaties, that at last she said, it was but a folly to aske the question, for that she was resolutely determined not to declare who it was. Said Parismus, what would you say, if I name the man, wherewith Violetta blushed exceedingly: and Parismus puld out of his bo­some the scarfe which she had before giuen him. Quoth he, be­hold in this scarfe, your self haue set down a description of your [Page] loues first comming vnto you, which was the Prince of Bohe­mia himselfe, vnto whom you presented this, who leaping downe the Pallace wall, slew your Fathers dogges, and what kindnesse he receiued at your hands, your selfe know best, and since it is impossible to obtaine any recompence at his hands, being wedded to the Princesse Laurana) let Pollipus, who in Chiualry is inferiour to none, be the man that shal possesse the second roome in your good liking. Violetta hearing him make so true a rehearsall of her aduenture, & so affirme by many rea­sons that it was Parismus, was strooken with such a sudden feare and shame to sée her secrets disclosed, that she was ready to swound with grief, and knéeling down, with the teares stan­ding in her eies, began to intreate him not to reueale the same to any, for she was fully resolued not to loue any but him, al­though it were Parismus: and although it were impossible to at­taine any fauouror recōpence at his hands. I wil not (quoth he) reueale it to any, for none but Parismus knoweth thereof, who is heere present with thee, wherewith hee most louingly tooke her in his armes and kissed her, shee yet beeing in some doubt that it was not he, vntill at the last, Parismus made himselfe knowne vnto her, and by such priuate tokens, as she both cer­tainely and assuredly knew that it was hee, which so reioyced her heart that she most humbly vpon her knees intreated him to pardon her boldnesse, and vowed neuer to loue any but him­selfe: which protestation so grieued him, that he began to per­swade her, not to wrong her selfe so much, for that hee was no way to breake his Wedlocke vowes to pleasure her. My déere Lord (quoth she) if I had a thousand liues, and euery life tenne thousand times dearer then this my life, I would most wil­lingly spend them in meditating on the first fruits of your kind nesse towards me. Hee séeing her firme resolue, could not tell what other meanes or perswasions to vse to alter her stedfast resolution, but passing some time with her in that priuat talk, till he saw Pollipus expected with heauie sighes, his happy or vnhappy newes: therefore he departed, and came vnto him, [Page] telling him, that there was some hope of obtaining her loue, vpon which comfortable spéech, Pollipus still earnestly prosce­cuted his sute vnto Violetta, who hearing that Parismus was departing towards his owne Countrey determined to aduen­ture her life & credit to goe with him, and therefore fitted her selfe in Pages Apparell, which so well became her, that she see­med to be the most excellentest workmanship that euer Nature had framed, her sute being gréen Satten, her buskings of the fi­nest Spanish Lether, fastned to her dainty legge, with Christal buttons, her haire wreathed with a carnation Ribbin, and all things else so neate and decent vpon her delicate body, that she was most comely to view and behold: and so in this change­able sort apparalled, shee secretly stole away from her Fathers house, and soone gate to the Pallace, where although there were a generall search made by Andrugios means (who soone mist her, and the report of her losse came to Parismus hearing) yet she was not in that habite any way suspected, where she continued many daies together, in which time she laboured by al meanes to be entertained by Parismus.

And on a time espying him with Laurana, walking priuat­ly in the Garden, on a sudden shee came towards them, who beholding her comely shape and delicace complexion, they dee­med her rather a Diuine, then a mortall Creature, who being come néere vnto them, Parismus demanded whose Page shée was? My Lord, said Violetta, as yet I haue no Master, but I would gladly be entertained: quoth he then, would you giue diligent attendance on the Lady Laurana, and my selfe, if it please her to like you? I am (quoth shee) in all humble dutie ready at your command.

Many questions Laurana asked the Boy, (as shee suppo­sed, demanding & enquiring of him both his Name, his Coun­trey and Parentage. Violetta answered, my name is Adonius, my Countrey Greece, & my parents are all dead, and the fame of the Noblenesse of this Courte, made mee trauell into this Countrey with the Emperour, with determination to get my [Page] selfe some good seruice, which you haue vouchsafed mee, and herein my dutie and endeauours shall bee such, as I trust you shall héereafter well like of. Which speeches poore Violetta vt­tered, with so prettie a grace, that they both tooke great de­light in her behauiour, whom now we will call by the name of Adonius.

CHAP. XVIII.

ALl this time Parismus and Laurana conti­nued in such blisfull estate of contented loue, still daily increasing in Honour and affectionate kindenesse, as though the one could not liue without the others presence, hee still growing into greater fauour (if greater might bee) in the Thessallians hearts, that when the day of his departure was come, the Citizens of Thebes with mournfull hearts and watry eies, bewailed the same, all being sad and heauy, no in­struments of musicke, nor sight of ioy, nor sound of reioycing being heard, as though their departure were a signe of some o­minous euent to ensue.

Laurana with many a salt teare, bad her Countrymen a­dieu, and poore Violetta, seeing her Father stand at his doore, as it were comfortlesse, vttered such passionate lamentations that were beyond compare.

The two Princes being conducted by Dionisius and Oliuia, the King and Quéene of Hungaria, the Prince of Sparta and the Lady Isabella, and most of the Thessalian Péeres, vnto the Hauen where they should take shipping, this parting beeing [Page] in such heauy sort, and with such aboundance of teares Paris­mus vttered these spéeches. Most Noble Princes, these sadde teares which you shed at our departure, sheweth your vnwil­lingnesse to leaue vs, whose company you shall not long want, for your Daughter Laurana and my selfe will verie shortly re­turne againe, that she may be a Comfort to your aged yeares, therefore I humbly beseech you to cease your griefe. Dionisius said: Most noble yong Prince, our griefe must needs be great, to loose the company of such assured friends, as your noble Fa­ther and your selfe, haue showne your selues to be, therefore for our last Farewell, we pray, that the Gods would prosper you in this your iourney.

Laurana hauing receiued their blessings, with most heauy hearts, they committed these two Princes to the Seas, who hoysing saile with speede, launched into the maine, where they were soone out of [...]ight, and Dionisius and the Queene, sadly returned to Thebes.

The King of Bohemia had not sailed aboue two daies space, in great hope soone to recouer the Coast of Bohemia, but the windes began to blow aloft, and the Seas to rage and swell, and such an excéeding Tempest arose, as though the Heauens and Earth had conspired their vtter ouerthrow, so that their shippes were disseuered, and their Marriners expected nothing but present death: that Parismus, Laurana, and Pollipus, were disseuered from the rest of the company, and they all in despaire euer to see them againe. The cruelty of the Tempest continu­ed for the space of thrée daies, in such raging and extreame sort, that the Marriners were compelled to cut their Sailes, and to heaue their Mastes ouerboord, and by the violence of the winde were driuen past their knowledge, but when the storme ceased, the Marriners ken [...]ed a farre off an Iland, and with such pro­uision as they had, sayled thither.

Parismus being glad that they had so well escaped the furie of the Seas, with most comfortable speeches, reuiued the feare­full Spirit of the Pri [...]sse Laurana from her sadnesse, in this [Page] sort, Déere Laurana, since the destinies haue allotted vs this mischance, to be thus disasterly seuered from our company, and driuen into an vnknowne place, comfort your selfe in these extremities, with hope of better successe, for I do not doubt but we shall well recouer the company of my Lord and Father, who by these bitter misfortunes is seuered from vs, but I trust the Seas will not bee so vnmercifull, as to drench his aged yeeres in these spacious gulfes: my deere Laurana, were you safely on these spacious gulfes: my déere Laurana, were you safely on shore, then would my hart be at rest. Many other spée­ches bee vsed to comfort her in her sadnesse, who was the more comfortable, for that she was in his company: they had not long continued in this good hope of recouering land, but they espied a ship making towards them with all speed, who being come neere to him, they knew him to be a Pirat, who presently began to board the ship wherein Parismus was, but the Marri­ners resisted them, wherewith began a fearefull battell. Paris­mus being vnder ha [...]ches, soone armed himselfe, and made such a slaughter amongst the Pirats, (most of his owne men being slaine) that he with the helpe of Pollipus, had soone destroied the greatest multitude of them, and the rest yeelded vnto their mercie.

Afterward they boorded the Pirates (who were belonging to Andramart of Tartaria, the Scythian Pirate, that had fil­led the whole world with the report of his tyranny) & beléeuing them vpon such protestations & oathes, as the villaines made, they conueied such riches, Iewels, and prouisions as they had, aboord the Pirats ship, for that their owne was shrewdly wea­ther beatten. And likewise hauing shifted Laurana, Leda, and Adonius, into the same, sunke their owne, and placed such few Marriners as they had left aliue, for gouernours ouer the Pi­rates, they made towards the Iland which they saw before them, and soone landed, determining there to refresh them­selues, where they found the Country waste and desolate, without any inhabitant, yet well replenished with wild Déere and Foule, of which they got good store. [Page] Parismus demanded of the Pyrates if they knew that Iland, who told him, that they gaue it the name of the Desolate I­land, for that they neuer saw any liuing creature there: but they told him that there was a beautifull Castle, that stood vp­on the top of a mightie Rocke, in the middest of the Iland, in­habited as they thought by some Diuels, for that many of their fellowes had oftentimes gone thither, but none of them euer returned, nor they neuer saw any creature in any place of the Iland besides: though there were many goodly Townes not inhabited. Which strange newes made them wonder: some two daies they continued vpon the coast of this desolate Iland. And on a time, Parismus and Pollipus, only attended by Ado­nius, straied from their ship to kill Uenison, leauing Laurana aboord, little mistrusting any treacherie, and trusting too much to his owne men. But the Pyrats hauing awaited such a con­uenient time, by pollicy conueied most of the Bohemian Mar­riners vnder Hatches, sauing some two or thrée whom they ea­sily ouercame, and fast bolted downe the same, and before the Knights were returned from killing their Uenison, they had hoised saile, and were launced quite out of sight: they vnder boord, not yet knowing that they were so betraied.

CHAP. XIX.

SO soone as Parismus and Pollipus had suffi­ciently stored themselues with fresh v [...]ctu­alls, they returned towardes the shippe, which they founde launched and gone, which Parismus séeing, and missing his be­loued Laurana (now too late suspecting the Pirates treachery) fell into such an ex­treame rage of sorrow and vexation against his owne carelesnesse, that hée tare his haire, stamped on the earth, cursed the day and howre of his birth, and was so farre ouermaistred with the extremity of vexation, that he feared like a man extreamely madde or franticke, oftentimes being in minde to leape into the Sea and drowne himselfe, and often­times attempting to destroye himselfe, that all these vnsuppor­table passions concurring together, so ouercame his sences, that hée fell into a dead traunce.

Poore Adonius séeing his Lord in this extreame case vsed all the skill that was possible to recouer him to his sences, that séeing nothing to auaile, hée begaune to make such woefull lamentation, as would haue made the sto [...]ie Rockes relent at his pitifull exclamation, where Violetta continued rub­bing his pale cheekes with her soft hande, a thousand times kissing his colde lippes, and washing the same with salt teares, that Pollipus séeing his friend in that sort raging against For­tune, and [...]earing the greeuous lamentation the poore Page made, (full l [...]ttle suspecting who it was) by viewing their in­firmities, most prudentlie gouerned himselfe, and by what [Page] hée could with poore Adonius, to recouer him, but their labour was in vaine: then hée beganne to meditate on this affliction: thinking that if hée should rage so excessiuely as Parismus did, hée should bee no whit the nearer any hope of remedie, but should thereby giue encouragement and example to him to continue in that sorrowe, which was beyonde the compasse of compare.

But séeing Parismus come to himselfe, looking like one ouer­maistred with care, and staring vpon him like a madde man, fearing that this sodaine griefe had altered his wittes, vttered these spéeches; Most noble Prince, since it is allotted vnto you to bée thus crossed in your happinesse, I bée séech you beare the same patiently, and remit this extreame care, which so ouer­maistreth your vertues, that their splendor cānot shine in such perfect sort, as wontedly they haue done: what can helples grief auaile you? what can care herein pleasure you? or what can this distemperature sorrowe helpe you in the recouery of your lost friend? then doe not shewe your selfe so inconsiderate, to de­stroy your sences in this sort, but let vs consult which way to recouer them for these sorrowes, & ten thousand times as ma­ny, cannot any way pleasure you. It ill beséemes your honour in this sort to cast your selfe downe, but rather with quietnesse beare your afflictions, and with wisedome deuise how to ease you of this griefe. Pollipus spake these wordes with such fer­uency, that it made Parismus somewhat remember himselfe, that rising from the earth, beholding his poore Page knéeling by him with blubbred chéekes, sorrowing to sée his sorrowe) he vttered these spéeches. How can I containe my selfe within the compasse of reason, when my losse excéedeth the bounds of rea­son? how can I with patience beare this affliction, when my losse is such as all the worldes wealth cannot counteruaile? How should wisedome beare sway in me, when she was my onely wisedome, and with her precious selfe, all that was mine is departed from me? Why should I not torment my self, when through my selfe she is perished? Why should I not rage, sor­row, [Page] and lament her losse, procured by my negligence? Accur­sed Traytor that I was, that left my déere Laurana, yea the most vertuous Lady liuing vpon the earth, so slightly in the cu­stody of barbarous people. What wil she say of me, but that I regarded her not? how may she condemne mee of humanitie, that haue suffered her thus to be taken from me? Can there be any limites giuen to this my sorrow? Can I neuer recompence this extreame wrong I haue done her? Is there any hope that I shall euer sée her againe▪ No Pollipus, no. What knowe I how these villaines will vse her? what can I tell whether they will conuey her? Or what know I the griefe shee will endure? This, this, torments my heart, that I am past all hope euer to sée her againe. How then can I asswage my griefe, but rather increase the same? what sufficient torment can I inflict vpon my cankred carelesse heart, that left her in their custodie, and by that meanes haue lost the fruition of her Diuine presence, whereby my life was maintained?

No, no, Pollipus, my sorrowes are such as can no way bee salued, therefore it were but in vaine to perswade my selfe that there is any hope left to redeeme this my vncomparable losse, and lost Friend: Heere you see we are left in an vnfrequented place, inuironed round with the Sea, and no meanes to escape a miserable death by famishment, vppon this accursed Land, that was ordained to be my graue: then Pollipus, what coun­saile haue you left to cōfort vs withall? Or how can you think well of him, by whose meanes you are brought to this hazard of your life? My Lord answered Pollipus: Let vs doe the best we can to get forth of this solitarie place, which once attained, there is no doubt but we might in continuance of trauaile, meet with some that can giue vs knowledge of whence those Pirats were, the which (if by happie chaunce,) we can once finde out, then shall we soone heare what is become of Laurana, in the meane time with patience let vs endure the searche for her dili­gently: for I vowe, that if she be any where to be found, I will neuer desist trauaile, vntill I can come to heare some happie [Page] tydings of her abode: which speeches of this worthy Knight, so reuiued Parismus, that hee altogether abandoned that effemi­nate kinde of griefe and lamentation, but with a minde puft full of inward sorrow, he kindly thanked Pollipus, & with this resolute determination, these two worthy Knightes armed, sauing onely their swords, hauing no companie, but onely their Page, beganne to trauaile along the Coast side, to sée if happily they could finde out any Shipping, that might lye vppon those Coastes. In which trauaile we will leaue them for a space, to speake of the King of Bohemia.

Assoone as the storme was ended, the King of Bohema, missing the Ship wherein Parismus was, beganne to take the same most grieuously, fully assuring himselfe that they were pe­rished, but he himselfe was driuen into the confines of Frigia, whereas he peaceablie soiourned, vntill he had Fraughted his shippes with all things needfull, and within short space lande [...] in Bohemia: where he gaue himselfe to a solitarie and austere life, and such sorrow and lamentation was generally made for the losse of their Prince, as is not to be described. Likewise the newes thereof was soone conueyed to Dionisius Court, where the sorrowe they made was such, as the like was neuer heard of in any age.

The Tartarians verie ioyfull of their Bootie, made all the haste they could home towards their owne Countrey, not any v [...]der hatches for a good space misdoubting their Captiuitie, y^e Princesse her selfe, being fallen into a swéete and silent sleepe. Leda being with her, maruelled why Parismus stayed so long, and seeing her Mistresse fast a sleepe, stole out of y^e Cabbin, and found the Marriners all careleslie quaffing, and leauing them, she would haue gone vp aboue hatches, for that her heart could not be at quiet, but finding them fast shutte, she called alowde to the Mariners to come and open the same: but they likewise finding the same fast boulted, soone perceyued the Sippe was vnder saile, and they all betrayed, that being desperate, what with shame and griefe, that there began a very great Mutinie [Page] amongst them, that moste of them were slayne in this rage, not knowing almost what they did, and the rest that suruiued, des­perately murthered themselues: which Leda beholding, assu­redly perswaded herselfe they were betrayed, and with aboun­dance of teares went to her Mistresse againe, who still was fast a sléepe, but at last shée awaked, and seeing Leda wéeping, her heart beganne to fayle her, and demaunding the cause of Leda, shee could not answere a word, wherewith Laurana was dri­uen into such an extreame passion of feare, that all her ioyntes began to tremble and shake, her colour went and came: but at the last, which with intreaties, and threatnings, she caused Le­da to declare the circumstance of their woe. Laurana no sooner heard Leda say they were betrayed to the Tartarians, and that their Marriners had in a mutenie slaine one another, but there she fell downe dead, that doe what Leda could, shee was not able to recouer her to her Sences in a good space: but at last her breath began to make passage through the sweete Con­dute of her throat, and she lifted vp her eyes, looking with such a ghastly and pittifull countenance vppon Leda, that shée was almost afraide to behold her. Then Laurana beganne to teare and spoy [...] her golden Tresses, and dishiueled her faire and precious haire, and rent her costly Garments from her comely and delicate bodie, wringing her handes, beating her breasts, and knocking her precious head against the boords, that had not Leda with al her might hindred, her she had there destroied her selfe. In this sorrowfull sort, she on the one side continued her lamentations, and Leda on the other side wept her fill, that the conduits of their eyes were dryed vp, and not able to shed ano­ther teare, and her heart was sore with throbbing, and she des­perately and with a constant resolution, attended the comming of those vilains that had betra [...]ed her, who knowing thēselues to be past the reach of the two knights, began to lift vp the hat­ches & called to those that were below, but none made answer, which caused one of them to go downe, and found all the Bohe­miās lie murthered, & with that ioyfull tidings came vp to his [Page] fellowes. One that was the chiefe, and Captaine ouer the rest, allotting euery one his seuerall office, went downe to sée where Laurana was, whom he found (as is said) making such mo [...]ne, that himself (notwithstanding his barbarous disposition) could not refraine from pittying her griefe: and in that case, without speaking a word hee left her, and returned againe within two houres, thinking by that time she would haue ceased her com­plaints: but she not giuing her thoughts any respite of consi­deration, but only to thinke on Parismus, still continued in her sorrowes, altogether refusing to be comforted by any perswa­sions, and for two daies space, vtterly abstained from all kinde of sustenance, by meanes wherof she was brought to extreame hazard and perill of her life, which caused Leda to vtter these perswasions. Deare Mistresse, quoth she, if you would vouch­iafe to heare me speak, then I would not doubt but to ease your heart of some of the care you so impatiently endure. You know that my Lord Parismus, Pollpus, and Adonius, are yet liuing, & no doubt in good estate, but only for the losse of you, for whose sake my Lord Parismus will preserue his life: why should you then destroy your selfe, that he so much tendereth? & not rather vse all possible meanes to preserue your selfe, vntill you can by some meanes heare of him: for there is no doubt that hee will search most part of the world, but he wil find you, & by his valor make the place where he commeth speake of his worthinesse, so that I doe not doubt, but it will by some accident or other come to your hearing: then were it vaine for you by destroying your selfe, to destroy him likewise, wheras otherwise you may hap­pily méete, to both your ercéeding comforts: your vertues haue the power to rule strangers affections, let them then restraine you from doing your selfe harme. What will Parismus thinke? and what thinke you will be his griefe, when he hath trauelled many strange Countries, and endured many thousand perils in search of you, and in the ende findeth that you haue foulely made away your selfe, and were the onely cause of his sorrow? I beseech you deare Mistresse, consider of these things aright, [Page] and weigh the estate that we are in, and then I doe not doubt, but your wisedome will consider, that it is better for you to preserue your selfe for his sake, then by destroying your selfe, be guiltie both of your owne death and his too. With these for­cible perswasious, Laurana beganne somewhat to pacifie her selfe, and with a setled resolution, determined to endure what miserie so euer should light vpon her: and therfore began to con­ferre with Leda about their hard hap, & miserable estate, which draue her to her very wits end to thinke of. But in the midst of their thoughts came to the captaine, who beholding Lauranes maiesticall countenance, and excéeding beautie, was so amazed therwith, as he condēned himself of villany, to haue procured so diuine a creatures discon [...]. Laurana seing him stand gazing vpō her, began boldly to demand of him what he would haue, he hūbly knéeling, told her that he had prouided her dinner, if shée pleased to tast thereof, which she willingly consented vnto, & be­gan consideratly to recall her former sences, but yet so inwaidly sorrowfull, as it was a rare vertue in her, so suddenly to ouer­maister her intemperate grief, & yet still remaine so [...]ul of griefe, that the very substāce of her sences was perfect sorrow. By this time the pirats had safely landed their ships in the Iland, where their mais [...]er Andramart was, which was incompassed with such mightie rocks of stōe, that it was impossible, but only one way, in which way a few were of power safficient to keepe out a whole armie of men, and soone they cōueied Laurana, & Leda to y^e castle, where they presented her (with such iewels as they had with her) to Andramart, who being a mā of a most proud and hautie disposition, and maiestically seated in an imperiall seat) was so rauished at y^e first view of Lauranaes bewty, that he stood aduisedly beholding her: at last he came to her, to haue imbrast her tender bodie in his rough arms, but she abhorring him, thrust him frō her, with a disdainful scorne, [...]herewith h [...] began to fawn vpō her like as a dog wil do on his master, whé he hath bin newly beatē, and began to make shewes to them of great welcome, and kindly brought thē to stately and gorgeous [Page] chambers most richly furnished, and seene all thinges néedefull were therepresented vnto her, by such women as were in the Castle. Laurana séeing her selfe thus kindely vsed, and not euil intreated, was therewith somewhat comforted, and vsed her selfe according to the condition of the time and place, and kind­ly accepted all their courtesies: but the loue which Andramart made vnto her, séemed so hatefull in her eyes, that it was worse vnto her then a thousād deaths, to endure his sight. The night being come, and after they had Supped, (being serued in most stately maner, and with most costly and delicate cates) she with Leda her maide,) who lodged with her,) betooke themselues to their rest, where she could by no meanes giue one minutes re­spit to her sorrowes by sléepe, but vttered most heauie playnts, and lamentations bewayling the losse of her déer Lord, that the verie walles séemed to groue forth the Ecchoes of her com­plaints, in which sort she cōtinued most part of the night. Ear­ly the next morning she was saluted by Andramart, who could giue his minde no rest nor quiet, but in her company, and his loue was so excéeding towardes her that hee could not doe any thing that was offensiue vnto her. In this miserable kinde of happie estate, Laurana continued by the space of a moneth, in which time shée had knowledge of a number of prisoners that this tyrant kept within the castle, by the grieuous cryes they made, some for want of foode, some with paines of tortures that hee inflicted vpon them, being himselfe hated of all men, and therefore hee hated all mankinde, but such whose minds accor­ded to his wickednesse. Lauerana in this time vsed her selfe so, that shee still deferred his importunat sute, and had him so tied in the snares of loue, that what she commaunded, he could pre­sently execute: but so odioue was his loue vnto her heauie hart, that shee was oftentimes ready to swound with the remem­brance there [...] but still by the counsell of Leda, she helde it the best course to keepe themselues in his fauour, vntill they could by some meanes escape out of his cruell hands, where we will leaue poore Lauarana in this comfortlesse place, amongest rude [Page] and vnciuill people by night, and by day, her musicke being the dismall noise of pittiful cries of poore prisoners, and clogd with lothsome loue of Andramart, without hope how to escape from that miserable place of bondage, where you may iudge the sor­row she endured, was such, as no tongue is able to expresse.

CHAP. XX.

PArismus trauelled many daies along the coasts of the desolate Iland, their food be­ing wilde fruite that grewe vpon trees, and their drinke the cleare fountaine water, their lodging the hard and cold earth: in which trauell they beheld many goodly auncient townes, but altogether vnpeo­pled, the houses being for the most part sto­red with many rich and costly ornaments, which caused these two knights greatly to maruell, and desired to know the cause thereof, and remembring what the Pirates had tolde them, that in a stately Castle, scituate in the midst of the Countrey, it was likely there were some that inhabited, they determined next to trauell thither: for they saw no hope how to get from that Iland, being growne very weake, by reason of their faint foode, and hard lodging: which trauell poore Adonius most willingly endured, thinking all paine a pleasure in his masters company, vnto whom hee behaued himselfe with such tender care that Parismus would oftentimes extol and commend him to Pollipus. For when Parismus at any time slept, he would co­uer his face with his thinnest garment, & made a pillow of the rest for his head, & oftentimes driue from his mind many heauy [Page] thoughts by his sweet songs, that Parismus thought hee could neuer haue endured that tedious iourney with patience, if Ado­nius had bin absent. These worthy knights, hauing continued a long while in this their solitary walk, tooke their iourney by gesse towards the midst of y^e country, in which trauel they con­tinued some 3. weeks, in which time they were often in danger of drowing, by reason of many deceitfull quicksands, and often like to be famisht for want of sustenāce, and often in danger to be deuoured by wild beasts, that were abundātly in this coun­try, & yet neuertheles they were nothing y^e neerer their wished expectation. At last Parismus & Pollipus begū vtterly to dispaire of euer accomplishing the means of getting from y^t vnfrequēted place, and they trauelled all a day and a night, ouer a mighty plain, wher there was neither water to stanche their thirst, nor fruit to asswage their hunger. Early in the morning, they espi­ed a mighty wood, where they thought (although there were no other comfort) yet there they should find fruit: but being come thither, their expectation was frustrated, for there was nothing but thorns & briers: and so s [...]ick, that they could by no means enter the same, y^t there they surely expected nought but famish­ment. And Parismus, what with extremity of hunger, and grief for the losse of Laurana, and lastly, for Pollipus & Adonius sake, sate him down vnder a mighty oake, & with a heauie hart vtte­red these plaints. How vnfortunate am I aboue all men, to be driuen to this exigent of miserable calamity, y^t by my ill fortune haue betraid the most chast, vertuous, & beautiful Lady liuing, into the hands of tyrants, to her endlesse griefe, & by my means haue brought these my friends in danger of a lamentable death by famishment. Had all these bin proper to my self, then would I in despite of my crooked destinies haue endured them, then should not they complaine, then should my vertuous Laurana haue bin in the pleasant court of Dionisius, whose teares at my departure, did prognosticate my vnlucky successe: in this extre­mity what hope is left for my comfort? how may Laurana curse my vnfortunat destinies? how may Dionisius accuse me of dis­honor [Page] for losing his daughter? how many Frigiās condemn me for the losse of the worthy Pollipus? and how may I suffiently recōpence al the wrongs? Despaite shal attend my steps, and sorrow shalbe my food, affliction shalbe mycompanion, & care my rest: y^e day wil I spend in teares, and the night in grones: let the heauens poure down the vengeance on my head, and the earth work my sorrow: for I y^e most vnfortunate of al men, haue de­serued the greatest punishment y^t euer was inflicted vpon man. In that vexation of mind continued Parismus, & poore Adonius lay weeping at his feet, almost dead for want of food, Pollipus he went vp and down, raging inwardly in his mind, his heart be­ing so full fraught with griefe, that his eies were swolne with extreame vexation. Al the while that these worth [...] Knights had continued in this simpathy of sorrow, there was an aged Her­mit had beheld their complaints, and vnderstanding by their behauiour, that they were some distressed strāgers, pittied their passions, and came towards them, being all three laid vnder the oake together lamenting, and saluted them with these kinde speeches? Worthy knights (said the Hermit) for that I sée you are strangers and distressed, if my poore Cell may any way ease you, and such simple victuals as the same yeelds, refresh you, or my selfe, or counsell, may any way pleasure you, I desire you to goe with me thither, and you shall be welcome. Parismus behol­ding this aged man vtter such kind speeches, as one rauished with ioy rose from the ground, and kindly with thankes tolde him, that he willingly accepted his profered courtesie: for cour­teous old man (qd he) you could neuer haue come in a time of more need, for we are now giuen ouer to despaire, therefore we may say, happy old man, you shal do vs a friendly deed, which we wil thankfully accept, and willingly requit, if it lyeth in our powers: then I pray you quoth he, goe with me, for I perceiue your bodies are wearied with trauel, and your harts tired with griefe: so they ioyfully went to his Cel, being glad of this com­fort, & in little space attained thither, which was in a large caue vnder the earth, most secretlycōtriued: wher they were soon wel [Page] refreshed with wine & venison, which this old man had alwaies ready. After that they had well satisfied their hunger with this good cheere, the olde man requested to know of whence they were, and by what disastred mischance they were arriued on that vnhappy Iland. Parismus told him how he was sonne to the King of Bohemia, and that his Companion was a Knight of Phrigia, rehearsing vnto him all their whole misaduenture, and the losse of Laurana, vttering the same in such doleful wise, that the old Hermit could not refraine from grief. By that time Parismus had ended his Tragical discourse, it waxed dark, and therefore the old Hermit had brought them vnto their lodging which was the same bed whereon he layed himselfe (there bee­ing no other) on which Parismus was very vnwilling to lie, thereby to displace this good old man: but by the manifolde in­treaties of the Hermit, he yéelded, and soone addressed himselfe therunto, desiring Pollipus to be his bedfellow, and for that A­donius was somwhat sickly, they laide him in y^e midst betwixt them, for that he had done them many pleasures in their trauel, Parismus being so far in loue with him, as he would haue ven­tured his own life to do him good. Poore Adonius with blushing cheeks, put off his apparel, and séemed to be abashed whē he was in his shirt, and tenderly lept into y^e bed betwixt these two wor­thy knights, who little suspected that it was Violetta, wher she poore soule lay close at Parismus backe, the very swéet touch of whose body séemed to rauish her with ioy: and on the other side not acquainted with such Bedfellowes, she seemed (as it were) metamorphosed, with a kind of delightfull feare: but had Pol­lipus known it had bin his deare Violleta, he would haue more kindly regarded his bedfellow, who seemed to start if Pollipus did but stirre. Thus they all tooke their rest that night, the two Knights onely being glad of this quiet repose after their long trauel: and Adonius hauing in his hart a thousand delights of ioy, by touching Parismus sweet body, earely in the morning A­donius was vp, being afraid to vncouer her delicate body, but w^t spéed soon araid himself, and had so neatly prouided althings [Page] against these two Knights should rise, that both of them admi­red his behauior, hauing prouided most wholesome bathes for their feete, which did them much ease, that they were sore brused with trauell. The good old Hermit, seeing these worthy Knight ready to take their leaue (for that they were vnwilling to stay to trouble him) requested them y^t they would stay with him some daies to refresh themselues. Good Father (said Pa­rismus) if we be not troublesome vnto you then will we stay, & bring our selues further into your debt. Not so worthy knights (quoth hee) for I know you will get from out of this coun­trey, vnlesse you will stay some time with me, for I assure you that there is no meanes but one, which must be atchiued with much hazard of your liues, which many haue attempted, yet neuer could effect. I pray you good Father, said hee, let vs bee so much beholding vnto you, as to know the meanes, for were it neuer so dangerous, most willingly I shall vndertake the same, seeing there is no meanes to escape, for I greatly desire to know what is become of the vertuous Lady Laurana: wher­with the Hermit began in this manner. Most worthy Prince (quoth he) I now begin to rehearse a history of the most vile­dest Traitor liuing on the earth, whose name is Drubal, some­time a subiect of mine, but now my superiour, for know wor­thy knights, my name is Antiochus, sometime the vnhappy ruler of this Iland. This Druball sometime serued me, vnto whom I committed my secrets, as the man I most trusted, who in time grew so proud, that vnder colour of my fauour, he could commit many bad actions, that hee was much hated a­mongst my Noble men, and my subiects began to accuse me as accessary to his euil facts, and for that I was so blinded with his flatteries, they began slatly to rebel, and being reproued for his misde meanour by my eldest sonne, he offered in my presence to haue slaine him, which made me so odious, that by the impor­tunities of mynobles, I banisht him my court & country, which he tooke in such disdainfull sort, that euer after he deuised to doe me mischief, and ioined himself to Bellona, my greatest enemy, [Page] which dwelt in a neighbouring Iland, the most wickedest hag liuing vpon the face of the whole earth, vsing with crafts, sor­ceries and inchantments, to further their purpose against mee: and came vnto this my Countrey, hauing many friends, first wonne many of my Subiects hearts, and afterwards made o­pen wars against me, and by their strength put mee to flight. When hauing gotten my Crown, they imprisoned my Quéen and two sonnes, and a daughter, which I had liuing, but not­withstanding they could neuer quietly enioy the gouernment, but were oftentimes disturbed by my subiects, who vtterly re­fused to liue vnder his tyranny, for that hee daily grew more odious amongst them, that by continuall warre his Countrey was almost wasted, and by the counsell of that wicked Hagge Bellona, he with his consederates betooke themselues vnto a Mountaine heere hard by, and there Fortified themselues, and by witchcraft framed an inuincible Castle, from whence they continually issued forth, and vanquished and slew most of my noble men, the rest remaining now in their custody, in most miserable seruitude. But not contented with this cruelty, they were so much giuen to Diuellish furie, that they destroied all this whole countrey, not suffering man, woman, or childe, to liue, neither can any creature land heere, but by their sorceries they will destroy them. In which kinde of cruelty they haue continued many yeeres: my selfe haue beene secretly hidden in this place, from whose hands I haue beene preserued all this time by diuine operations, and by the vertue of a Iewell that was giuen mee by an old Art [...]man of Tartaria. The Castle wherein they remaine is distant from hence some three miles, being the goodliest thing to the outward shew that euer eye behelde, where Druball and Bellona without dreade, liue in great mirth, continually formenting my Queene and poore Children with continuall torments. Now most wor­thy Knights (quoth he) vnlesse you can by some meanes ouer­come these Furies, there is no other hope to escape from hence, for long you cannot remaine, but they will knowe of [Page] your being heere, for all passengers do vtterly shun this place as a hatefull and ominoue coast. They hauing heard this Her­mits strange discourse, wondered at the cruelty of Bellona, and were confounded in their thoughts with the danger they should endure to conquere their inchantments, that sudden­ly they could not tell what to determine off: but crauing par­don of Antiochus for their rude behauiour towards him, whō before they knew not, most louinglie saluted him. Parismus said that hee would the next morning without delay trauell thitherwards. My Lord (quoth Pollipus) were I sure to abide a thousand deaths, I would beare you company, for I would not now loose your sight, nor abstaine any hazard for your sake.

The next morning they were earely vp, determining to leaue Adonius with Antiochus in his Caue, but notwithstan­ding all their perswasions, he would not stay, but what with teares and humble intreaties, he obtained Parismus consent: who was vnwilling to haue him goe, least hee might bee hurt in this attempt. Antiochus conducted them vntill they were within the sight of the Castle, but then left them, returning to his Cell, Inuocating and praying after his manner, for their good successe.

When they had well viewed the Castle, which was beau­tifully seated vpon a strong Rocke, incompassed with a mighty huge déepe Lake, they sought round about the same, but could finde no passage thereto: hauing neither bridge nor other way to goe on foot. At last they heard a little Bell ring within the Castle, which was by the Watch, by the sound thereof, giuing warning to those that were appointed to keepe the same: vpon which noise, they saw a boat with six armed Knights in it com­ming towards them, assoone as they were landed, Parismus de­manded of thē who was lord of the castle: one of y^e knights an­swered, come with vs, quoth he, & thou shalt soon sée, wherwith they began to lay hold on them. Stay said Parismus, let mee [Page] aske you one question: say on, said one of them. Is the Lord of this castle amongst you said he? No, said the other. I would hee were (quoth Parismus) for I vow were he heere, I would haue his traitors head, before he returned: wherewith Pollipus and he drew their swords (being otherwise vnarmed) and so vali­antly assailed those sixe Knights, that they were al slaine with­in a short space, they themselues hauing very little dammage or hurt.

The Ferrie men séeing their sixe Champions lie weltring in their purple gore, ranne towards their boate, but Adonius seeing his Master and Pollipus had slaine their enemies, was before gotten down into the same, and seeing the Rowers com­ming towards him, and Parismus and Pollipus pursuing them thrust the same past their reach, by which meanes they had soone taken these slaues, and put them to death, who by no meanes would manifest any thing of the secrets of the Ca­stle.

And Parismus comming to Adonius, most kindly embra­ced him, and with exceeding praises extolled his wisdome in performing this exploit to Pollipus, who admired to sée so great wisdome in so yong yéeres, but his wit and wisdome was such, that had they knowne the party, they would haue more admi­red his vertue.

By meanes of this boate, they had passage vnto the other side of the riuer, where they were no sooner landed, but they heard such a hideous noise within the Castle, such Thundring and ratling in the Skies, that it would haue amazed the stou­test Champion in the world: but they were nothing abashed thereat, sauing Adonius stood quaking and shaking with ex­treame feare, when issued out of the Castle two mighty huge proportioned Monsters, séeming rather to be Diuells then naturall men, who assailed these two worthy Knightes with such, fury that had they not nimbly auoyded their blowes, they had at that very instant perished: who [Page] prosecuted their strokes with such fiercenesse, that the very earth séemed to shake therewith, and what with labour and rage, that they could not offend those Knights, they were so hotte (the Sunne▪ being then at the highest) that their eyes were dazeld with sweate that fell from their browes, which aduan­tage these Champions soone espyed, and with their swordes (hauing gotten within compasse of their mightie Maces) soone ended their wretched liues, who gaue such groanes, that all the Castell wr [...]ng with the noyse thereof: which crye, so amazed Druball and Bellona, (being then at their plea­sure) that they came hastily running to beholde these two worthy Knights, who were then entering the Castle, and no sooner come into the inner Court, but they behelde the most excellent beauty of the Castle, being the most gor­gious and stately buildings that euer they had seene: where they had not long stayed, but they behelde Bellona com­ming towards them, whome they thought to haue béene some Quéene inclosed in that Castle, for that she was crow­ned with an Imperiall Diademe: who with her sorceries so bewitched their sences, that immediately they fell into a dead and sound sléepe: presently shee commaunded them to be conueyed into a strong prison, and there fettered them wich Irons.

At such time as they awaled, they were excéedingly a­mazed to see themselues in that manner imprisoned: and Pa­rismus, was so enraged with extreame sorrowe that hée tare his haire, & rēt his garments, rayled on his misfortune, cursed his destinies, and vexed his owne hart with extreme pas­sions of sorrowe, that his spéech was returned into bitter sighes, and his sences forgot their former vertue, and he was so desperately sad, that no griefe might be compared to that he endured.

Pollipus on the other side, continued his wonted manner of enduring afflection, which was presently to studie howe to ridde himselfe and his friend from the same, which might [Page] be accounted the rarest vertue that euer was in knight, he on­ly studied for his release, and neuer raged nor railed against himselfe, nor otherwayes distempered his sences, but ouer­came his inwarde sorrowes (which were excéeding) with such patience, that Parismus would highly extoll him for the same; and poore Violetta woondered at his gouernment, as a most rare vertue, which shée neuer behelde in any but him­selfe: which made her oftentimes accuse her selfe of vnkind­nesse, that shée had so vngently refused so courteous a Knightes loue, which very thoughts touched her so neare the quicke, that shée was oftentimes in minde to yéelde to loue him, and beganne afterwardes to affect his vertuous qua­lities excéedingly. They continued in that darke Dungeon all that night, so laden with Chaines and Irons, that they could not one helpe the other, without sustenance, not able to take any rest, with the care they endured, at the pitti­full grones and cries of a number of poore distressed people, which were imprisoned hard by them, that it séemed more terrible to Violletta, then death it selfe. But they were still comforted by Pollipus, who hearing the sorrowe poore Ado­nius made, and seeing the heauinesse of Parismus, vttered these comfortable spéeches. My Lord, do not discomfort your selfe, neyther be discouraged, or so much as disquieted with their crosses, for I doe not doubt but in shorte space wée shall frée our selues of these bandes, and therefore beare the losse of Laurana, with more patience then you haue done: what though she be in the hands of Pirats and Uillaines: Assure your selfe that there is none so barbarous, or in humane, as wil once offer to iniury her. And were it not for the care she hath taken for your absence, I durst assure my selfe shée is in good health: and for your owne safety or ours, you neede not greeue your selfe so extreamely, as it seemeth to mee you doe: for that is not so greatly to bée feared, as wee neede any way to dispaire: for doe but followe my counsaile in this, to contemne these pittie miseries for a while, and regard [Page] them as they were not, and you shall soone sée by that meanes we shal come by our fréedome, much rather then by our effemi­nate lamentation, which will make our enemies reioyce at our affection, and not pittie vs. Deare friende (quoth Parismus,) your comfortable spéeches were of force to reuiue a dying hart, but so great griefe attaineth my minde for the losse of the fayre Lady Laurana, that felt you but the inwarde griefe of such a sweete Friendes absence, and feare neuer to see her againe, you would say that I did not greeue sufficienly. My Lord (replyed Pollipus) I haue often made triall of your Uertues, which ma­keth me the bolder to trie your patience: I confesse that the losse of such a Friend as Laurana is, cannot be sufficiently lamen­ted, for my selfe doe feele such sorrowe for the losse of my deere Violletta, that my heart endureth that torment my tong [...]e is not able to expresse, which maketh me silent in my griefes, for that I would not put you in remembrance of yours by mine: for my Violetta is as deere to me as ten thousand liues, if I had them, and I doe not doubt but one day I shall see her ver­tuous beautie, for whose sake my heart will neuer be at rest: the remembrance whereof, restraineth mee from many des­perate attemptes, that otherwise I would inflict vppon my selfe, that haue not deserued the Loue of so vertuous a Da­mosell.

But why doe I vtter these speeches, when shee is not by to heare them, and little regardeth the torments I endure by her vnkindnesse? But I beseeche you comfort your selfe in these afflictions, for a comfortable heart is now necessarie: wherewith the water appeared in his eyes, and poore Violet­ta hearing his speeches, so much pittied his sighes and sad­nesse, that for very kindnesse she wept for company, and re­soluted to graunt his sute, which had well deserued to be belo­ued: but the loue she bare to Parismus, so altered and changed her thoughts, that she could not determine what to do: at last she began to consider, that in louing Parismus, she did wrong [Page] to Laurana in some degree, and that she might no whitte al­ter her true friendshippe to him, being onely vertuous, and yet accept Pollipus offer, and yeeld him loue for good will. In these and a thousand such like thoughts, she spent the night, and the Knights continued busie, bethinking themselues how to worke their deliuery.

Early the next morning (fast bounde in Irons) they were brought by a company of ragged hunger-starued fellowes, in­to a goodly Hall, most richly furnished with stately hangings, at the vpper ende whereof, sat Druball & Belona, before whom they wefe no sooner come, but Druball with a tyrannous looke, demaunded of whence they were, and what was the cause they had so euill intreated and slaine his seruants.

Parismus so much disdained to be examined by so base a Uillaine, that hee coulde not for extreame anguish of minde speake, nor coulde he (would hee) haue answered him: but Pollipus stepping forwards, answered, we are straungers that haue suffered shipwracke: and were vnluckily cast vppon this hatefull Iland, made so by thy treacheries, where we haue bene often in daunger of Famishment, and comming to this Castle, thy seruants offered vs violence, and we haue rewar­ded them, and thou like a Tyrant hast vniustly imprisoned vs, not vsing vs as all Knights should be vsed, and not by valour, but by Sorceries, hast brought vs into thy subiection, which if not our selues, the Heauens will reuenge. Which words hee vttered with such a disdainfull countenance, that the Tyrant was amazed at his resolution, and tolde him, that hee would soone abate his haughtie minde, commaunding them to Pri­son againe.

CHAP. XXI.

BEllona all this while tooke such viewe of their personages, that shee thought them the goodliest men that euer she beheld, and at that instant, vowed eyther to obtaine their loues by faire meanes, or inflict such torments vppon them, that they should yéeld by force to her lust: wherefore she se­cretly commaunded her seruants to loade them with more Irons, which they performed, where these two worthie Knights laye by the space of a weeke in the most cruellest torment that might be: their foode being bread and wa­ter, their bedde the harde and cold earth, in a most loathsome stinking prison. Which paine they patiently endured, but were both so gréeued for poore Adonius, that their hearts were al­most readie to burst with griefe, who continuallie (notwith­standing his weaknesse) séemed to be of great comfort. But being al his life time tenderly brought vp, he began to wax very sick with ill sauour, and hard fare, in this loathsome prisō, that they thought hee would haue at that instantended his life: but Pollipus, what with deuices and forces, wroong himselfe frō the place where he was fastened, and made such meanes (notwith­standing his heauy Irons) that he came to poore Adonius, and vnloosed many of his Boltes and Irons) from his weake body, and continually made him sit on his lappe) being all the means he had to cōfort him withall,) that he poore soule being almost dead with lying on the colde grounde, felt great comfort by [Page] Pollipus warme body: which kindnesse poore Violletta so kind­ly accepted, that euer after shee began to loue him most entire­ly, and remembring an impossible of enioying Parismus, her affections was setled on the woorthy Pollipus, thinking that since he was so kinde to her, being taken as a Page, hee would be much [...]ore kinde if hee knew her to bee Violetta. Euery day they were serued by a rude vnciuill slaue, in such sort that it would haue made daintie fare loathsome to be so handeled, which Bellona did vpon pretence: first to vse them hardly, and then by better vsage, to draw them to a good opinion of her gentlenesse: for on a time shee came to visite these priso­ners, being no waies drawne thereto by a vertuous inclina­tion, but of a most vnchaste and beastlike disposition: and co­lourably seemed to reprooue the Iaylor, that he had vsed them so hardly, commaunding him to remooue them into a more de­lightsome place, where they had very softe bedding, good aire, and farre better diet, which kindnesse of hers, they both commended. In which place they remained many daies: du­ring which time, Pollipus and Adonius were bed-fellowes, he full little knowing who it was hee so tenderly regarded, for by reason that he was sickly, (Poilipus being drawne thereto by a vertuous inclination proceeding from milde pittie) would oftentimes folde him in his armes, and so kindely cherish him, that by his meanes poore Violetta had recouered her former health: which imbracements of Pollipus, at the first séemed straunge to her, but in continuance she tooke such vertuous de­light in his swéete company, that his presence was her whole delight, and these kindnesses did so much reioyce her heart (by the knowledge of her owne estate, and remembrance that shee was vnknowne) that she was a thousand times in minde to reueale her selfe to him, when she lay soulded in his armes: (he hauing not the least thought that shée was a woman,) and a thousand times that determination was crossed by contrarie thoghts, that kerioy seemed without compare, had it not bin for remembrance of the estate they remained in, but her hart was [Page] so chéered with these delights, that by her pleasant deuices shée would driue many sadde thoughts from the vnchearfull hearts of these imprisoned Champions. Which so greatly admyred their Pages vertues, that they were both dr [...]wne into an ex­ceeding loue of his qualities.

Bellona had all this while (by remembring the comely pro­portions of her two new come prisoners, kindled such sparkes of immodest loue within her loathsome breast) that the burthē thereof was intollerable to her to endure, and therfore arming herselfe with an vnshamelaste countenance, she [...] resolued ey­ther speedilie to worke her owne content, by enioying one or both of their persons to satisfie her appetite, or to worke their endlesse torment, and her owne death, which diuellish resolu­tion tooke such deepe roole in her impure hearte, that shee pre­sently came vnto the place where these two Knightes were, and with a fawning countenance saluted them: beeing attired as she thought most gorgiously to delight their eyes, but so vn­séemely she became those rich attires, that it would haue alte­red a deepe grounded affection to extreame disdaine, to beholde rich attire on so vnseemly a carkasse.

Parismus nothing regarded her: but Pollipus aduisedly marked her behauiour, and his fancie iumpt rightly on her dis­ease, that at the very first, he rightly conceited this her amorous passis. Assoon as she was entred & had saluted them, she began to enquire of Pollipus (for that he seemed to be the cheerfullest) of what countrey they were, & how they arriued in that coast? Pollipus tolde her, that they were Knights of Phrygia: that tra­uelled towards Tartaria, but by a mightie tempest they were driuen vp [...]n that Iland, where their ship and men were all cast away, but themselues and their little page, being therby driuen to trauel, & by chance lighted on that Castle, intending to trie if they could get passage into Tartaria, for that the Country was no where else inhabited, & since our arriuall worthy Lady, your selfe know what misery we haue indured, being inflicted vpon vs for no offence that we haue giuen to the Lord of this castle, [Page] therefore faire Ladie, if there bee any vertuous pittie in you, graunt our releasement from his bondage, which can no way benefit you: wee are such, as neuer intended your harme any way: but by necessitie were compelled by this place, which hath prooued so miserable. Bellona being tickled with this flattering spéech of Pollipus, (which séemed to agrée with her disposition) made him this answere. Worthy knight (quoth she, if it lye in my power, to release you, I will most willingly do it, for such good will I beare you, and such pitty I take for your hard vsage, that I haue caused you to be remoued from the miserable pri­son wherein you were before, and haue both bettered your lod­ging and your dyet, and would doe all that you wish, or venter my life in pursute thereof, if you would condiscend to stay with me in this countrey: for worthy knight, though it ill beséemes my sere to begin the motion of loue, and shew their beloued the depth of their affection, yet (for that paraduenture your inclina­tion is not so bent, I here but offer you fréedome, and what else you will require, so that you will yéeld to loue me.

For at the first view of your person, my heart so surfetted with delight of beholding your perfection, that euer since I haue enioyed no quiet, but onely the hope to enioy my desired wish: therefore gentle Knight, resoule mée of my doubte, and graunt this my sute, and therby ease your selfe of further paine, and set these your frendes at libertie.

Pollipus hearing her spéeches, thought it the best course to glose with her, and therefore answered; Most worthy Ladie, this request of yours is dangerous for me to performe, for if the Lord of this Castle, should any way heare thereof, then would hee inflict a miserable death vpon mee, (as hée might well doo) and also my heart is oppressed with a heauie passion of feare, least these your kinde speeches should proceede of no good will, but onely to trye me withall, and thereby bring me in daun­ger, being already surprised with loue of your Uertues, which are such as might content a farre better man then my selfe.

Bellona hearing his kinde speeches, and hauing priuily recei­ued [Page] a sweet kisse of him, neither Parismus nor Adonius seeing the same, was now indeede fettered in the snares of loue, whereas before she intended nothing but lust, and therefore resolued to obaine his loue, and to worke the downefall of Druball, thereby to possesse the same, without any let or impe­diment, and therefore with oathes, protestations, teares, and vnfained vowes, shee gaue him assurance of her loue, which was so kindled in her adulterous breast, that she would [...] hazarded a thousand liues to possesse the same, and taking her leaue of Pollipus, shee went out of the Prison, by a priuate Key which shee had alwaies about her, promising him to re­turne thither about midnight, when hee should haue full as­surance of her loue. Parismus maruelled what communi­cation had passed betweene Bellona and Pollipus, but sée­ing him vnwilling to vnfolde the same, would demande no further of him. Violetta likewise wondred why hee would not reueale the same, that her heart was oppressed with such a suddaine doubt, that she could not refraine from teares, and getting into a corner secretly by her selfe, be­ganne to study what might bee the cause of her long talke, fearing least Pollipus heart might bee drawne by her in­chauntments, to some inconuenience, or altered by some di­uellish deuise which shee might vse: likewise she beganne to call his loyalty in question, which she thought was the truth indeede, because hee would not reueale it, for that shee thought some amorous conference had passed betweene them, which thought could by no meanes passe from her minde, but continued still in her carefull breast, wherewith shee was much grieued, and so continued all that night, but when shee saw that Bellona came about the appointed time to Pollipus, shee poore Soule, lay in her vnquiet bed, tormen­ted with infinite cares and griefes, that shee all bewette the place where shee lay with salt teares. Bellona and Pollipus departed together out of the roome, for she had made Druball sleep with a somniferous spel, she had infused vpon his body, y^t [Page] a mighty volly of canon shot could not haue awaked him, and she being greedy of the sweet delights of Uenery, hasted to the lodging where Pollipus was, who expected her comming, and tooke him by the hand, fast locking the doore, and conducted him with amorous speeches into a most goodly garden, where Flo­ra in her summer weedes was comely dect, and from thence vn­to a most gallāt summer house, so richly adorned with precious [...]ēts, that it made Pollipus admire, & had his paramour so wel liked him as that delightsome arbour, he would haue wisht no other felicity: where they were no sooner come, but kindly (though far from any good intent) he embraced Belona in his armes, who was therewith so greatly pleased, that she vsed ma­ny thousand protestatiōs of the loue she bore him, and y^t it was such as she had yet neuer professed to any, vowing that in re­quital of his kindnes she wold do any thing, yea though it were to destroy Drubal and y^e Castle, which consisted in her power. Which words of hers well pleased Pollipus, who hearing her say, the power of that Castle wholly consisted in her, had that he would haue, and hauing his full liberty, framed an embrace­ment of kindnes, and with all his might caught her by the cur­sed head, and with maine force wrong a two her necke, where­with she gaue many a grieuous grone, and there arose such a mighty tempest in the Garden, as though legions of internall spirits had arriued there, which hideous, noise almost amazed the valiant knight, that with all the haste he could, gat out of the garden, and by that time Phaebus began to [...]eautifie the earth with his splendor, he was safely come vnto y^e place where Parismus was, and by the key Bellona had (which he had taken vp, as being carefull thereof) he entred in and lockt the doore a­gain, but the noble minded Parismus marking his gastly looks, being somewhat affrighted, would not question with him, and poore Adonius was somewhat comforted with his presence, but otherwise wonderfully perplexed in thought. As soone as he was in, hee walked vp and downe sadly a good space, by which time came the Iaylor with their breakefast, whom [Page] Pollipus presently caught hold o [...], and with many threats, compelled the villaine to vnloose all the letters from Paris­mus, and Adonius, which when hee had done, hee tooke vp a bolt of Iron, and beate out his braines, and locking fast the doore, came to Parismus, and told him the whole truth that had passed between him and Bellona, which when hee had de­clared, Parismus with a thousand kind imbracings, extolled y^t worthy acte, and poore Adonius was so inwardly vexed with griefe, to thinke of the ini [...]rie she had done him by her iealous thoughts, that she began to wéepe afresh, and renew her for­mer kind of sorrow, which she vsed against him, in accusation of her selfe. These two knights, thought it not good in this time of need to vse delay, but finding the bunche of keies the Iailor carried about him, and fitting themselues with such weapons as the place yeelded (being the longest bolt of iron) issued out of that place into the Court, where they saw no creature stiring, at length they espied two or three of Drubals seruants, who no sooner saw these two knights, but with open exclamations they ranne towards Drubal, and they with all the haste they could followed them, and at the very entrance in at a doore, slew two of them, and the third yeelded himselfe, pro­mising if they would saue his life, he would di [...]ect them to the place where Druball was, and also helpe them to Armour. Upon which condition, he brought them into a mighty large roome, where they beheld many braue and rich Armours, being the Armour of such Knights as were imprisond and de­stroyed in that Castle, and befitted themselues with the best they could choose, for they knew they should haue occasion to vse the same, and by that time they were armed they heard a great noise and muttering of people, for Druballs somnife­rous spell was ended, and hee missing Bellona, and hearing the cries of his seruants, fearing some treason, caused his La­rumme Bell to be rung, and presently they were gathered to him a hundred of his seruants. With which noise, these knights well armed, came out into the Court whom Druball [Page] no sooner espied, but he caused his men to ass [...]ult them, think­ing because there were but two, hee should easily ouercome them, but the first that offered to lay hands on Parismus, had his arme parted from his body, and he ran about the court: an­others leg was by Pollipus lopt off, and he compelled to lie and tumble on the earth, some lost their heads, some had their bo­dies pierced quite through by the vnconquerable hands of these worthy Knights, and happy was hee that came not within compasse of their weapons, that by that time the Sunne was mounted to the highest Zodia [...]e, the greatest part of Drubals seruants lay weltring in their bloud, and these valiant knights still continued their Mas [...]acre among them, that the rest sée­ing themselues also likely to perish by the matchlesse Chiual­rie of these Champions, with a generall consent cast away their Weapons, and yeelded to their mercy: which when Druball saw, being of a traiterous disposition, ranne at Pa­rismus with all the force hee had, thinking either desperate­ly to kill him, or die himselfe, but Pollipus with a quicke eye marking his intent, strooke him so mighty a blow vpon the head, that hee ranne staggering vp and downe, and by the commandement of Parismus, his owne men had taken a­way his weapon, whom Parismus caused to bee laid in the most vildest Prison in the Castle, which so vexed Drubal, that there he grew to such a desperate rage, that hee would haue slaine himselfe, but that hee was in the hope still to bee releeued by Bellona. Most part of his Seruants they like­wise committed to safe custodie, and beeing more at quiet, de­manded if Antiochus Queen, and his two Sonnes & Daugh­ter were liuing, who told him, that they were liuing in won­derfull poore and miserable estate. Wherefore by the direction of one of Drub [...]lls Seruants, they were brought vnto the Prison, where they were no sooner come, but they heard the most greeuouses [...] groanes, c [...]ies, and lamentation, that e­uer Eare heard: and being entred, they beheld a number of Prisoners, in the most gréeuous and pittifullest manner [Page] lying on the earth, that their hearts were wonderously gréeued to behold the same. Amongst the rest, they beheld an auncient woman Fettered and chained vnto a poste, and right opposite against her, a comely young Maiden, chained in many chaines, their apparell beeing all torne from their bodies, sauing some little that shadowed their middle parts, whom the seruant tolde him, was the Quéene and her daughter, and two that lay chained with their backes together, were Antiochus two Sonnes. Parismus and Pollipus commanded them to fetch some Apparell to couer their bodies. In the meane time they beganne to commune with the Queene: who was much a­shamed at her nakednesse, but séeing some comfort in their lookes, told them that she was sometime Quéen of that Coun­trey, but had long continued imprisoned in that sort by the trea­cherie of Druball.

Parismus told her, that now the time of her deliuery from that bondage was come, which so reioyced the poore Queene, that with a chéerefull countenance, she smiled on her daughter, the messenger being returned, Parismus couered the Quéenes body with rich apparell, and with his owne hands loosed her bands. Pollipus did the like to Freneta her daughter, and all the rest of the prisoners were set at liberty: Parismus and Pol­lipus ledde the Quéen and Freneta vnto conuenient lodgings, being scarce able to stand, they were growne so feeble, where they had all things conuenient ministred vnto them by Ado­nius, who was willing to vndertake that office, and there left them whilest they tooke order to release the rest of the Pri­soners from their misery, which were a great number: amongst whom were many knights of strange countries, that they ad­mired the cruelty of the Tyrant Druball, which excéeded the compasse of reason. Afterwards they viewed the whole Ca­stle, where they beheld in sundry places, the dead carkasses of thousands of Men, Women, and children, consumed to ashes, for assoone as the tyrants had satisfied their appetites in sundry [...]bominable sorts with them, they burnt their bodies. At last [Page] they came vnto the maine castle (wherin the seruants of Dru­ball told them, they neuer saw any to enter) which they found fast shut, & assayed by all meanes they could to open the same, but their labour was in vaine, which caused them to maruell what might be the cause therof. But they were no sooner depar­ted (determining to go sée where Bellona lay dead) but immedi­ately the windes began to blow with such vehemēcy, that with much adoo they could stand vpright: wherewith such thūdrings & tēpests began to arise, that all the whole Rock shooke wheron the castle stood, & the buildings quaked, in such maner, that such as were within the compasse of the roofes, ran forth into the opē court, & the lower wherinto Parismus and Pollipus would haue entred, seemed to turne into a mighty flame, frō whence came such a smoke, as darkned the whole place where they stood that they could not sée one another. In which sort it cōtinued a good space, when presently the smoke vanished away, & the Tower & buildings of the castle were neuer after that any more séene: which so amazed the worthy Knights, that with the fearfulnes thereof, they stood like men agast. Neither was the body of Bel­lona any where to be found, for the tearme and date of her In­chantment then tooke end. The riuer, ouer which they had pas­sed, was not to be séene, nor any other goodly thing, that before séemed most admirable for beauty. Wherefore Parismus com­manded a Tent to be picht for their habitation, being no other there to be had. Druball being (as before I said) in prison, hea­ring this noise, and séeing the darkenesse that ouerspred the Ca­stle, soone knew, for Bellona had reported the secret thereof vn­to him before, that Bellona was dead: he by that meanes des­perately without any hope of aide, beate out his owne braines against the stone walles, and his body being found in that sort murdered, Parismus commanded to bee cast as a pray to the beasts of the field, for that he was not worthy of buriall. After which, the two Knightes came to the Queene, who was in the Tent, accompanied by her two sonnes and daughter, who by Adonius good tendance were wel strengthened, & they no sooner [Page] saw them come in, but with a thousand commendations, they began to applaud their magnanimious vertues, that had wrought the downfall of those two wicked Tyrants, that had long time kept them in thraldome, yeelding vnto them so ma­ny harty thanks, that Parismus requested them not to vse such Ceremonious thanks to them that were altogether vnworthy thereof, and began to demand of the Queene, whether the king of that Iland were liuing or no: wherwith she told him that he was slain in a battel by Drubal, many yeares since, the remem­brance of whose death, caused the teares to trickle downe her chéekes in aboundance. Wéepe not deere Queene (quoth Pa­rismus) for things past recouery are no way to be lamented, but (quoth he) this comfort is yet remaining, that Antiochus is li­uing, and in good health, for since our comming into this coun­trey, we haue bin preserued from famishment by his courteous meanes, and to morrow (so please it you, my deare friend Pol­lipus and my selfe, wil conduct you vnto the place of his aboad. At which words, the Queen, her daughter, & two Sons, were so reuiued with exceeding ioy (assuredly beleeuing his words) that with many thanks & courtesies they prostrated themselus before these worthy knights, that had euery way brought them happy newes: where many other spéeches passed betwixt them, till by the nights approach, they all betooke themselues to their rest within those Tents, where all things were orderly proui­ded by Drubals seruants: and they quietly rested vntill the next morning, Adonius stil being Pollipus bedfellow, who was now grown into such admiration of the splendor of his splen­dant Uertues, that the resolued rather to die a thousand deaths then to lose one iote of his loue, which by many infallible to­kens she knew to be so loyall, that no thought of chance could take roote in his constant heart: and indeed so it was.

For Pollipus was so feruently affectioned [...]o her loue, that although hee knewe not what was become of her and at her last being in her Fathers house, had from her selfe receiued a flatte deniall, yet hee determined (after that [Page] Parismus had againe recouered Laurana) to spend the rest of his daies search of her, who was more priuie to his actions, then he was aware off.

The next morning Parismus early came to visit the Queene, where after some salutations, they departed towards the caue, where olde Antiochus was, who hearing no newes of these Knights, was fully perswaded, that they were impriso­ned by Druball, as many had beene before, and therefore was now out of al hope of hearing any good newes by their returne, and gaue himselfe to his former austere kinde of life: and being in the midst of a sorrowfull meditation, he suddainly be­held Parismus & Pollipus within his Caue, comming towards him, whom at the first he knew not. By reason whereof, hee was attainted with such a deadly feare, as if had beene atta­ched by his enemie Druball, but with a more attentiue aspect, beholding these Knig [...]ts, he knew them, and with great ioy reioiced at their prosperous returne. My Lord (quoth Paris­mus) we haue by the Diuine prouidence, and the vertue of the worthy Pollipus, destroied that wicked Drubal, and the In­chantresse Bellona: whilest they continued this talke, the Queene and her Children (being guided by Adonius) entred the Caue, who no sooner saw her Lord Antiochus, but presently she knew the forme of his countenance, though much altered by age, and vpon her knee saluted him, who kindly tooke her vp, requiring to know why shee vsed such reuerence to him? Parismus séeing that he knew her not, told him that shee was his Quéene & children came to visit him. Wherewith Antio­chus with thousand kisses and embracings welcommed them, that it delighted the Knights to behold their exceeding ioy: in which salutation, they continued to their mutuall comforts a good space, and at last departed towards their tents. In which iourney Parismus vnfolded the whole manner of their aduen­ture, and how by the wisdome of Pollipus they attained the cō ­quest of that Hellish Castle, where they continued some daies, spending the time in great ioy. After their troubles in the In­chaunted [Page] Castle were ended, Parismus began to renue the re­membrance of his lost Laurana, (by seeing the ioy these parted friends enioyed by their happie meeting) that he could not be quiet, but began to cenf [...]rre with Pollipus, how to get shipping to goe in search of his beloued Princesse. Therefore they came both vnto old Antiochus, to aske his deuise therein, who tolde them, that since it was their desire to depart, he would vse all the meanes he could to purchase their content, and therefore went toward the sea side, where stood a goodly Towne, be­ing sometimes the chiefest of that Countrey, and there deter­mined to make his abode, and to séeke traffique amongst other Nations, as in times past, where the King dwelt many daies, hauing some two hundred to inhabite the same Citie, being such as were seruants to Druball, and prisoners in the Castle, where he caused his flagges of truce to be hung out, which was a token vnto such as passed by, that there they might safely ar­riue without daunger. In this place Parismus and Pollipus re­mained in good hope to get passage many daies. Where wee will for a season leaue them, to declare what happened to Lau­rana.

CHAP. XXII.

LAurana all this while remained in the I­land of Rocks, kindely intreated (as is be­fore rehearsed) by Andramart, who was surprised with such desire to obtaine her fauour, that it was a griefe to him at any time to sée her sadde, and on a time he came vnto her (being in her Chamber, accom­panied by Leda her Maide) and hauing obtained her consent, vttered these spéeches. Most beautifull Lady (said hée I beseech you shew some fauour vpon poore An­dramart, who languisheth with desire of your loue, you sée that now you are in my power, & it were but folly for you to séeme so scornefull, and so slightly to regard my profered loue, wheras I might (if I pleased) inflict some gréeuous punishment vpon you thereby to compell your consent, but you likewise sée that my minde is not bent to any cruelty but I haue euer since your arriuall, humbly sued and intreated your friendship, which I e­stéeme more déere then my life. Here shal you abide in great qui­et and pleasure, not subiect vnto any, but shall be chiefe Gouer­nour of this Castle, my self, and all that is mine. Diuine Lady, if you wil graunt me loue, Ile haue you clad in costly robes and Damask vestures, imbost with diamonds, and the richest bur­nisht golde, perfumed with Camsire, Bisse, and Syrian swéete perfumes, a hundreth Uirgins clad in purple, shal daily attend thy person, as many swéete recording Instruments shall bring thy sences to their quiet sléepe. Thy foode shall be the precious [Page] delicates of the world, they drinke more costly then Nectar and Ambrosia: my selfe will be, obedient at thy call, and all my ser­uants shall bow at thy command. If all this will not purchase thy sweet content, I will prepare a sumptuous Chariot made of the purest gold, wherein thou shalt be drawn by kings, along the pleasant fields of this Countrey, whereas the euening aire shall breath a coolenesse, farre more sweeter then Ambergreece, vpon thy crimson cheeks, and make thy splendant beauty shine like the purple Pallace of Hyperion, when hee leaues Aurora blushing in her bedde, whereby all creatures shall admire thy excellency. All this and ten thousand times more, will I per­forme, to delight your vertuous selfe withall, but if all this wil not suffice, then shall I spend my daies in endlesse sorrow, and your selfe purchase thereby your owne discontent. Therefore sweet Lady let me receiue some comfortable answer to mitti­gate these my sorrowes. Laurana hauing heard his spéeches, was so surprised with a vertuous disdaine to heare his flatte­ring, y^t she was resolued not to answer him at all, but at last she replied in this sort. It is in vaine Tyrant (quoth she) for thee to think to purchase any loue at my hands by thy flatteries, there fore desist thy sute, which is as odious to me as thy selfe, which thinkest because by trechery I am brought into thy cruel hāds I will yeeld to thy allurements: no Tyrant, no, inflict what pu­nishment thou canst vpon me, I wil neuer yéeld to shew thee a­ny fauour, that deseruest to be hated of all men: besides, thou seest my estate vnfit to listen to y^e allurements of loue, therfore if thou hast any vertue in thee, (as thou she west thy self to haue none) shew that thou louest me, by desisting to trouble me any more with the harsh sound of thy odious instrumēts: wherwith she turned from him, and he in a monstrous rage departed the chamber. Afterward comming vnto a sister which he had with him, named Adamasia, he began to vnfold vnto her the sum of his affection to Laurana, & how disdainfully she had vsed him, requesting her counsel to further him therin: who being an euil disposed creature, and rather ready to intice him to euil then to [Page] dissawaded him fr [...] y^e same, she promised him, that if she might haue the custodie of Laurana, shée would not doubt but soone to bring her to consent vnto his desire, which Andramart was in som doubt to suffer, for that he was loth any should haue the kéeping of her but himselfe. But at last being intised by hope of obtaining her good will, gaue his consent, and the wicked Ada­masia had the charge of the most vertuous Laurana, vnto whō shée vnfolded the cause of her comming, vsing manie perswa­sions to Laurana, to consent to loue Andramart, telling her that shée was vnwise to refuse the good will of him that was so mighty a man. Laurana séeing a worse plague then euer shée before endured, to be now befallen her, by being troubled with such an impudent solliciter, was so ouercome with sorrow and griefe, that this last vexation seemed more gréeuous then all that euer she endured: & would giue no answere vnto her im­pudent sollicitings: by which meanes Adamasia was frustra­ted of al hope to obtaine her liking, but many daies she vsed the vertuous Laurana very kindly, and séemed so loth to offend her that she would not long time after motion any thing in the be­halfe of her brother, which the wicked hag did, only to feele the disposition of the vertuous Laurana: and also perceiuing y^t she was great with child, told Andramart that it was to no effect to deale any further in their suit, vntill she were deliuered. Wher­fore with all diligence they ministred all things necessarie, and the time of her deliuery being come, she was inriched with a goodly boy, whom she named Parismenos, whom Andramart caused to be nursed, and to be most delicately brought vp many daies in that castle. After a few daies Andramart grew so im­patient in his loue, that with many intreaties, he requested A­damasia, either speedily to work his content (by obtaining Lau­ranaes liking) or else he told her she should soon see his death for without the same it was impossible for him to liue. Wherwith Adamasia beganne to settle her selfe to the taske she had vnder­taken, and finding (as she thought) a conuenient time when Laurana was alone, she began to féele her minde in this sort. [Page] Uertuous Lady (quoth she) I haue long diligently marked the doleful plaints you secretly vtter, which maketh me muse, that you hauing no cause at al, shuld spend your daies in such heauie sort, wheras you might (if you plesed) inioy such happy delights as many thousand ladies wold wish for. You are here in a hap­pie place in my opinion, where nothing is wanting that might procure your content, where no iniurie is offered you, that vn­lesse you indure some secret griefe, I know not what to coniec­ture of your discontent: and the loue of Andramart in my iudge­ment faire Lady, should bring you that happie consent, that yet you neuer enioyed the like, who in all respects beareth such an intire affection to your selfe, that whatsoeuer he hath or can cō ­mand, resteth wholly at your dispositiō. But if it be so that you haue som friend already, vnto whom you are any way tyed in the bands of loue, & for him you indure this pensiuenes, that by some mischaunce is perished, then let the famous Andramart possesse the second roome in your gentle heart, and let me be the messenger to carrie these happie tidings, to ease his torment. Laurana hauing heard this cunning insinuation of Adamasia, wel vnderstood her meaning, & therfore told her that her gréefes were best knowne to her selfe, which she determined not to re­ueale, and as for Andramart, she told her she esteemed his loue worse then his hatred, and that she had rather indure y^e greatest force of his malice, then the loathsome profers of his loue, and therfore willed her not to prosecute any further her vnwelcom­med sute, which should make her lesse welcome vnto her com­panie. Adamasia hearing Lauranaes resolute answere, was so kindled into anger with the same, and being of a proude dispo­sition, could not refraine from vttering her inward rancor, but replyed as followeth. Proude Lady (quoth she) know that An­dramarts more fauoring thée then thou deseruest, hath appoin­ted me to intreat thy fauor, but thou disdainfully reiectest his profered courtesie, and makest scorne of my speeches, which I cannot indure, for thou shalt well know that I am the better, and I tell shee that thou shalt yeelde vnto his iust sute, or repen [Page] the time that euer thou wert so coy, therfore let me haue thy an­swere to morrow, which is the vttermost respit y^t I will giue thée. Auant foule Hag (quoth Laurana) my answere thou shalt now receiue: that for thy detested sake I will neuer yeeld vnto his sute. Which words so inraged the rude Adamasia, that cō ­ming to Laurana, she strooke her such a blow on the face, that the blood ran aboundantly frō her mouth, wherwith she depar­ted and left Laurana in y^t sort bléeding, with her bloud mingling her Christall teares, which in abundance ran from her eyes. This hag was so inragde with the sharpe answere of Laurana, that presently she came to Andramart, and told him that there was no dealing with hir in gentle sort, rehearsing how disdain­fully she refused all the proffers and sutes she could make; vsing such perswasions, that Andramart consented to be wholly orde­red by her, nothing regarding what she intended, so hée might haue his desire. Adamasia therfore purposing to bring her bu­sinesse to effect, first caused Leda to be prisoned and restrai­ned from her mistresses presence, which was an insupportable gréefe to her. Next she caused young Parismenos with his Nurse, to be kept from his Mothers knowledge, and such things as Laurana had before enioyed for her vse, were now quiet kept from her, and her diet scanted, being serued of such as ill agréed with her stomacke. Laurana seeing her selfe thus v­sed, began to feare some harder measure, which very shortly fell out true: for Adamasia longing to execute her crueltie vpon the vertuous Ladie, came vnto her, and asking whether as yet she would condiscend to yeeld her loue to Andramart: for (said she) it is now no dallying, for I will either purchase his content by thy consent, or work thy sorrow. Laurana would make her no answere at all, but with silence heard her talke, raile, stamp, and rage, in such extreame sort, that she thought she wold with fury at that instant haue run mad: for Lauranas silence inraged her more then the sharpest answere she could haue giuē would haue done, that in an extreame rage she lockt the chāber doore, & depated presently, deuising how to torment her. And choosing [Page] vnto her two olde women, fitte to execute any euill action, ha­uing instructed them what they should doe, sent them to her, where they were no sooner come, but they behelde her sitting vpon the ground, hauing elected the darkest place in the cham­ber, as fitting to her mournfull disposition, with her chéekes be­smeared with old dryed teares, and fresh drops, resembling the purest christall pearles, ready to fal, leaning her arme vpon her knée, and her head vpon her hand, her haire being carelesly at­tired, and al her ornaments so diffusedly hanging (but yet so de­lightfull to beholde) that y^e old hagges could not deuise how to find any occasion to execute their intent, but were so abashed at her countenance, that they were oftentimes in minde to re­turne, without once offering to trouble her. Laurana séeing thē stand gazing vpon her, rose from the place where she sate, and demanded what they would haue, whom they answered not: but shée suspecting that they were sent by Adamasia, for no good intent, beganne to vtter these spéeches. Feare not (quoth shée) to execute the wil of her that sent you, who séeketh for that at my hands, shée shal neuer, obtaine, it is not all the torment shée can deuise, shall cause me alter my vow, for I am resolutely deter­mined to endure them, & death too, if it be her will to giue it me. Cruell fortune hath wrought my sorrow & inflicted greater pu­nishment vpon me then she ca [...] deuise, by the losse of my deere Lord, & husband, whom I know not what fortune keepeth thus long from redéeming his poore Laurana, nor into what place of the world he is wandred in search of mee, that in all this time I can heare no tydings of his happy arriuall. But why doe I wish his comming hither, when there is no meanes to escape death, if he once fall into the hands of these tyrants? Worthy and vertuous Lord, all happinesse attend his royal person, and shield him from harme, & all woe & sorrow belong to me. Come furies, come e [...]ecute your will, or returne to the cruel Beldam that sent you, and tell her that Laurana scorneth to entreat a­ny fauour at her hand. Shee had no sooner ended her spéeches but they began to bestrip her delicate body, & disrobed her of all [Page] her ornaments sauing her white smocke, which they vnfolded downe to her tender waste, and scourged her with whip [...] vn­till the pure purple blood began to trickle downe her precious body, which torment she indured so patiently, as it was a most rare vertue in her so quietly to enduce griefe, in defence of her honour. And hauing executed their crueltie in most extreame sort, left her alone, who couered her bleeding bodie (which was such a lamentable spectacle to beholde, that had Andramart seene her distressed estate, hée would haue runne mad with ex­treame furie) and gaue her selfe to continuall sorrow, expecting more hard vsage: for she knew, vnlesse she would yeeld her bo­die to be imbraced by the hatefull Andramart, shée should en­dure many other torments, which shée would not in any wise yeelde vnto, though shee endured ten thousand deaths. The next day comes to her againe Adamasia, whose countenance bewrayed the guiltinesse of her conscience, & demaunded whe­ther as yet shee would giue answere to her demaunde. Lau­rana was so inwardly tormented, to heare any more motions that tended the breach of her loyaltie, that she would not indure the thought thereof, and knowing that this wicked fury would continue a long circumstance of odious perswasions, she inter­rupted her with this answere Wicked woman (quoth she) thin­kest thou by thy cruell vsage to purchase my dishonour? No, were I so intended, for thy sake would I reuoke my disposi­tion, and tell the tyrant Andramart, that he shall sooner see my body torne into a thousand peeces by his detested crueltie, then yeeld to his beastly desire. Execute thy rage, and practise all the diuellish deuises thy hatefull heart can inuent, they shall no whit feare me, for thy tamned, selfe, thy hearse voyce and ab­hominable sute, are as deadly poysons to my Sences, and the thought of them so odious, that doe what thou canst, I will ne­uer condiscend to the least thought of graunting thy request: therefore trouble me no more with thy serpentlike hissing forth of Hellish protestations, for my soule hath vowed in despite of all the cruelties, and vttermost deuises of detested tyrannie, to [Page] giue thee no other answer. Proud disdainefull trull (quoth Adamasia) I sée thou art willing to worke thine owne sorrow, being some stragling mate, or base borne huswife, that art not worthy the loue of Andramart, and thinkest to esape my hands, by thy resolute replies, and denials. No: know foolish contem­ner of thine owne good, that nothing shall satisfie me but thy consent, which thou wilt yeeld I feare me, when it will bee too late. The downefull of thy selfe, thy sonne, and al that is thine, shall not appease my furie, but thy consent to loue Andramart: and since thou wilt by no intreaties bée perswaded, all this and more will I inflict vpon thy proud heart, that so wilfully de­nyest his request, and therefore either speedily yeelde thy vn­worthy fancy to attend his liking, or resolue to behold the tra­gedy of thy infant.

With which words she departed, and left Laurana so ter­rified with her speeches, that her senses were ouercome with feare, and shee fared like one without sense: but reuiuing her selfe from that heauy dumpe, with aboundance of teares she be­dewed her Crimson cheekes, and in silent sorrow spent her time, still expecting the heauy newes of Parismenos tragedy, which within few daies, the wicked tyrannous Adamasia ef­fected in this sort: She caused the nurse that kept Parismenos, to bring him to his mother with this message that vnlesse shee would in all respects fulfill the request that Andramart hadde made, she must presently destroy him before her face: who hea­ring the nurse vtter that dismall doome of her Sonne, shee fell into a deadly swound, in which sort, she continued a good space, in which time the nurse was departed with yong Parismenos, which when Laurana perceiued, she began to vtter many hea­uy plaints, that the very walles seemed to pittie her distresse, but being diuersly tormented with feare, to thinke what was become of her yong sonne, she got to the windowe, and there beheld Adamasia with the nurse ready to strangle the Infant before her face: but y^e nurse pittying the infant, who lookt with such a smiling countenance, that the cruell Tigers would haue [Page] spared his life) vpon her knées with aboundance of teares in­treated the hard hearted Adamasia to spare his life, who was no way guiltie of his mothers offence: but all the intreaties she could vse, nothing auailed: but she taking the infant from the nurse adressed her selfe to execute her cruell intent. Which Laurana espying, beeing therewith terrified, called aloude from the window vnto her, and desired her to heare her speake, before shee spilt the innocent bloud of her yong sonne, which caused Adamasia to stay, but still shee continued like a furious Lionesse, standing ready to deuour her pray, and Laurana from foorth her window vttered these speeches. If thou wert euer borne of a woman, be not so inhumane as so destroy that harmelesse infant which is of no power to worke thy discontent: wherein hath it offended thee, or how hath it any way deserued such an vntimely death? What will it profit thee at all, to see his destruction? It is I that haue of­fended thee: it is I that may appease thy cruell minde: it is my blood that may suffice thy deuouring appetite: then in­flict thy wrath on my head, reuenge thy selfe on mee, that héere offer my selfe willingly to destruction. What merci­lesse creature would be so tyrannous, as to destroy an harme­lesse innocent, when they haue in their power a fitter subiect to appease their ire? Cruell Adamasia, or let mee call thee gentle cruell woman: let my plaints mooue thy heart from acting that cruell déede: let my humble teares, and remem­brance of a mothers loue to her childe, reuoke thy cruell doome: let my paines and intreaties so much pricke thy flinty breast, as to cause thy heart relent, and stay thy hand from that mer­cilesse déede. heere I am that haue offended, why wilt thou not then reuenge thy selfe on mee, that may satisfie thy will? and spare that tender babe, whose death will make thée so odi­ous, that the very earth will refuse to beare thy hatefull body, the Sun will send noysome vapours to poyson thy soule, the ayre will infect thy intrailes, and the very foules will worke thy downefall. Remember that his life may bee a meanes [Page] to alter my minde, but his death wi [...]harden my heart so much, that it will be foreuer impossible for thee to attaine the thing thou seekest at my hand. Then bee not so cruell as to spill the blood of that silly Lambe, that is not altogether as yet ready for the slaughter. Adamasia hearing the conclusion of Lauranaes spéeches, perceiuing that they shewed some likelihood that shee would change her inclination (wherein she was deceiued) de­liuered Parismenos againe to his Nurse, with many oathes protesting, that if Laurana did not the next day grant her re­quest, he should surely die. Laurana was somewhat comforted, by this short time of Truce, she had gotten for Parismenos li [...]e, but stil rested in such ca [...]e and perplexity of griefe, that she was in the most woefullest estate of miserie that euer any Lady was in, her Senses beeing so stuffed with aboundance of sorrow, that shee could neither resolue what to doe, nor once study how to auoide these intollerable mischiefes. The Nurse hauing receiued the young Parismenos, with great ioy departed to the place of her aboad, where she was no sooner come, but she then began presently to deuise how to saue the swéete Babe from death: for although she was a stranger to Laurana, a woman of a rude and barbarous Nation, and altogether voide of Ciui­litie, yet by the Diuine operation, she was so farre in loue with that most sweet countenance of the yong Infant, and there­with, she tooke such delight to educate so gallant a Childe, that she determined either to saue him from Adamasias cruelty, or thereby worke her owne destruction: therefore in the middest of the darke night, when all things were at silence, she stole a­way from the Castle with Parismenos, and by that time it was day, she was trauelled some twenty miles from the same, wher she gate into a woode, and there made such prouision, that she carefully brought vp Parismenos, as conueniently as was pos­sible for her to doe, in that vnfrequented place, of whom wee will speake more heereafter.

The next morning Adamasia came again to Lauranas chāber, [Page] demanding the accomplishment of her request, who by that time had sufficiently determined what to doe: and weghing the distressed estate she was in, considered that if shee should condiscend to loue Andramart, shee should both disrobe her selfe of chastitie, and doe a most monstrous iniurie to the noble Pa­rismus, shee resolued rather to sée the destruction of her Sonne, and endure death. And therefore tolde Adamasia, if nothing but her dishonour would content her minde, she might doe all as pleased her, for she was resolued neuer to yeelde to violate her chastity, but yet most humbly intreated the hard hearted hagge, to spare her Sons life, shewing such manifold reasons, that it would haue pierced the heart of the cruellest Tyrant li­uing: but Adamasia was rather inflamed to furie, then any way mollified with her gentle intreaties, that in an extreame rage she departed, with full intent to excute her vnsatiate re­uenge on Parismenos: but comming into the nurses Cham­ber, and not finding him, nor his nurse, she could not tell what to thinke, and making further enquirie (being thereby assured that they were not to bee found) shee was inraged with such madde and Diuellish frenzie, that shee came vnto the two olde hagges, that had executed her commandement before on Lau­rana, stamping and staring, and discouered vnto them all that had happened, and how that the nurse was fled with the yong Infant: who by her wicked commandement for many daies after, continually tormented the vertuous Laurana, with such extreame tortures, that it was impossible for her long to en­dure that extreame misery, wherewith shee was brought into a most dangerous estate of death, being voide of all comfort, and continually she spent her time in bemoning the losse of her Lord, and the vntimely slaughter of Parismenos, whom shee thought assuredly to be dead.

CHAP. XXIII.

ANdramart all this while continued in good hope of Lauranas fauour, which hee was in some sort assured of by Adamasias per­swasion, who continually vsed all the de­laies she could to hinder him from visiting Laurana: for she was assured, that if he had any knowledge how shee had misused her, it would turne to her great displeasure. But he hauing a long time endured her absynce with an afflicted minde and seeing that he could not attaine the fellicity hee ex­pected, but was still delayed by the faire promises of his sister, which came to no effect determined himselfe to visit her, which he had not done in many daies, and therefore with a pleasant countenance, he entred her Chamber, where at his comming in, he found such an alteration, as he was astonished to behold the same: for Laurana [...]ate by her beds side, vpon the floore, shed­ding aboundance of teares, her ornaments all betorne by the two cruell Hagges, that vsed daily to torment her, her golden tresses hanging disheuered about her shoulders, her crimson coloured chéekes turned to a pale hue, her Face mangled and scratched with their hellish nailes, and all things so disordered contrary to his expectation (little suspecting the cruelty that the cruel Adamasia had vsed) that in a maruellous perplexity hee stoode coniecturing what might bee the occasion thereof. One while thinking, that her owne impaciency had caused her vse that cruelty against her selfe. Aga [...]de hee beganne to suspect Adamcsia, for that he mist Leda, Lauranaes Gentlewoman. [Page] At last Laurana hauing espied him, being abashed at his sud­daine comming, for that she was so disrobed, arose from off the place where she sate, fearing least his comming thither might be to offer her some violence. But Andramart humbling him­selfe vpon his knée, vttered these speeches. Most vertuous La­die, vouchsafe to heare your vassal speake: whose heart is op­pressed with a thousand griefes, to see the extreame sorrow you remaine in: I haue according to your command, absented my selfe, from manifesting my desire, so be acceptable in your sight, this long time, trusting that your gentle heart would in time pitty the extremity of my passions, and now beeing oppressed and ouerburdened by a longing desire to enioy your heauenly presence, I haue presumed to shew my selfe in your gentle As­pect though contrary to your command, trusting to haue some good hope of your gentlenesse but contrary to my expectation, I find my selfe frustrated of all comforts, and your selfe to bee in that equipage, that I know not how to vtter these my spée­ches, nor coniecture of the cause of this your sorrow, which dri­ueth me into a thousand doubtfull cogitations, least I am now more vnwelcome to your company then I haue deserued, bee­ing altogether ignorant of any cause of offence that I haue gi­uen you. More he would haue said, but that Laurana inter­rupted him in this sort. It ill beséemeth a man of thy sexe to vse dissimulation, for that the cruell vsage I haue endured, cannot be vnknowne vnto thee, but procured by thy meanes: and now further to torment me (that am altogether resolued to abide thy greatest furie) thou commest with dissembling and counterfait flatter [...]es to excuse thy tyranny, thinking by thy counterfait ig­norance, to purchase that which thy tyranny cannot effect. But be assured that I am now so far from cōdescending to conceiue any good opinion of thee, as it is but in vain for thee to vtter a­ny more speeches: but thinke and be perswaded, that by thy cruell deuises, thou hast giuen me such cause to hate thee, that I will for euer estoome thée the hatefullest Tyrant liuing, and the cruellest homicide that is in the world. These speeches draue [Page] Andrmart into such an amazement, that with many thousand oathes vowes and protestations, he requested Laurana to ma­nifest vnto him the occasiō of these her spéeches, which she was vrged to doe, wondring at the many intreaties he made, for she thought assuredly it had béen by his procurement, but at last by his protestations, she suspected the contrary, & began to declare to him the manner of her vsage: How she was daily whipt and beaten by two olde mercilesse women, and how Adamasia had murdered her sonne Parismenos, with remembrance of whose death she vttered such aboundance of teares, that Andramart was likewise ready to weepe, to see the sorrow shee endured. This hard vsage (quoth Laurana) I haue endured by your cru­ell meanes, besides the imprisonment of my seruant Leda, or her death, for that I haue not of long time seen her, and now in fraudulent manner, I feare me, you come to spill my blood, which is héere ready to abide your tyranny. Most vertuous La­die (quoth Andramart) if any of these euils haue happened by my meanes, or any waies by my consent, then esteeme me the most cruellest creature liuing, then let mee neuer enioy any ti­tle of your fauour, which will be more greeuous vnto me, then a thousand deaths: then let the heauens poure down their ven­geance vpon my detested carkasse, and al the furies of hel, eter­nally possesse my soule. Let the earth receiue my bated body in­to her bowels, and let we for euer be detested and abhorred of all creatures. Which words he had no sooner vtted, but Ada­masia was entred Lauranaas chamber, and séeing her brother in that rage, would haue departed againe: but he espying her, cal­led her vnto him. And Laurana now assuredly perswading her self that he was no way guilty of her cruel vsage, abhorring the sight of the tyrannesse, said: Behold the cruel executer of Paris­menos tragedy, and your tyranny: at which words Andramart drew out his fauchion which he continually ware about him, determining to ende her detested life, but shee fearing his cruelty, and beeing terrified with his gastly countenance, ranne with such swiftnesse from his presence, that missing [Page] her steps, she fell downe a high paire of staires, and dasht out her hatefull braines, and in that maner according to her owne wicked life, she desperately ended her daies. Andramart think­ing her death not sufficient to make amends for the cruell tor­ments Laurana had indured, in furious sort, ranged vp & down the castle, vntil he had found the old hags that had bin Adama­sias instruments of furie, one of them he immediatly slew, and the other fled into the court, whom he pursused, and in the sight of his mistresse, (who was beholding the dead body of Adama­sia) at one blow he parted her cursed head from her filthy body. Which in some sort, reioyced Laurana to sée, but he still ran vp and downe, raging in such cruel sort, that his seruant fled from his presence, and hid themselues for feare of his furie. At last he came to the place where Parismenos was nursed, but finding him gone, and withall, remembring Lauranaes speeches, for very griefe he tare his haire and stamped on the earth, at last by directions of his seruants, he came to the place where Leda was imprisoned, (being vsed in most vile sort) and vttered these speeches: Faire damsel if you haue conceiued any hard opinion of me for this your vsage, I beseech you remit the same, for it was altogether without my knowledge, and assure your selfe I haue so handled the vnworthy procurer thereof, that she shal neuer hereafter purchase your discontent, humbly destring you to pardon my negligence, by meanes whereof, you are fallen into this mischance: and also I pray you certifie your noble mistresse that Andramart is no way to bee blamed, for the re­membrance of her griefe, hath brought such terror to his heart, that he shall neuer rest in quiet vntill he hath wrought her the happy content she desireth, which if he knew what it were hee would presently put it in practise. And taking Leda by the hād, with all humilility, he brought her vnto Lauranaes Chamber, who reioycing at her sight, louingly and with ioy, embraced her, and Andramart departed, presently cōmanding all things to be ministred vnto Laurana in such diligent sort, that shee could not choose but commene his good nature, whom she assu­redly [Page] beléeued, was no way priuie to his sisters actiōs: for that hée had sufficiently showne the contrarie, and still laboured by all the meanes hée could to purthase her good liking. Leda aa I said, being come to her mistresse, so reioyced her heart, that she began to leaue off her sad and pensiue thoughts that still oppres­sed her minde, and declared vnto her, the cruell vsage of Ada­masia, withall, the report of Parismenos, which newes made her againe begin her former sorrowe: but by the comfortable perswasions of (Leda, whose counsaile she much estéemed) she gaue her minde vnto much quiet. In which quiet state, let vs once againe leaue her.

CHAP. XXIIII.

PArismus and Pollipus continued manie daies in the Desolate Iland, expecting the happie arriuall of some ship, wherein they might haue passage to go further in search of Laurana, for whose absēce they indured much sorrowe. At length it chanced, that a marchants ship of Hungaria, passed by this desolate Iland, which they wel knew and shunned for the danngerous report they had heard therof. Comming against the Cittie where the King lay, the mariners aboue hatches had sight of flagges that were spread vpon the toppe of the Castle & signified the same vnto their chiefetaine, whose name, was Barzillus, who hearing their report, woon­dred what might be the cause, and being desirous to knowe the certaintie, made thitherwardes, where hee durst not [Page] bring his ship to shore, but taking his cockboate himselfe, with such as rowed him, landed at the Castle: which such as atten­ded the same, espying, came and saluted Barzillus, certifying him, that he neede not now feare the furie of Bellona, for that there were two Knights in the cittie that had destroied the Ca­stle, and fréed their, King and Quéene out of thraldome, who would be very ioyfull to heare that any passengers were lāded, Barzillus hearing their report, without feare (beleeuing theyr spéeches went with them vnto the court, which was but small, yet there he was most kinely welcōmed by the King & Queen, but especially by Parismus and Pollipus, who enquired of him, of whence he was. He certified them he belonged vnto the king of Hungaria, his name Barzillus, and that seeing the flagge of truce, he came to see what aduenture had happened in that de­solate Iland. Friend (quoth Parismus, youe comming hither may greatly preasure my selfe & this worthy knight, my friend Pollipus of Phrigia, by whose prowesse this Iland was redu­ced to his former happie estate. Barzillus hearing him name Pollipus, suspected him presently to be the famous Prince Pa­rismus of Bohemia, of whose losse at Sea, hee had heard ma­ny reports by diuers ships he had mette both of Thessalie, and Bohemia, that were gone in search of them and therefore with great reuerence hee vttered these speeches. Most curteous Knight, I haue in my trauaile often times heard of that woor­thy Knights name, and also of the famous Prince of Bohemia, by many Knights that are in search of them, whome I suppose your selfe to bee, and therefore accounte my selfe, the happiest man aliue, to bee an occasion to pleasure you in anie respect: therefore most worthy Knight, if my selfe, my men, or shippe, may any way doe you seruice, I heere most humbly offer them at your vertuous commaunde. Parismus kindely thanked him, assuring him that hée was the same whome hée had na­med, and that a long time he had remained in that Iland, for want of shipping to go in searche of Laurana Daughter to the King of Thessaly whom they had lost: & that if he would shew [Page] them that curtesie as to leaue his further trauaile for his Mar­chandize, and accompanie him in his trauailes, he would make him such sufficient recompence, as he should neuer after neede to trauell to get wealth. arzillusB told him, that (notwithstand­ding his Honourable proffer, he would haue all that was his at commaundement. So giuing him all the courteous enter­tainment that might be, they soiourned still with olde Antio­chus, vntill they had furnished themselues, with al things con­uenient, and finding a fit time, (with all courtesie, taking there leaule of the Kinh and Queene, and Freneta, who tooke their de­parture most heauilie, for that these Knightes were so grasious in their eyes, as they accounted the one parte of their soule de­parted with them, hauing obtained a promise of them, to visite them, (when they found their wished friend,) hauing winde at will, they launched into the maine, not knowing which way to take their course, but commited themselues to the direction of their good or ill Fortune. They had not Sailed thrée dayes, but Barzillus gaue them to vnderstand, that they were neere the Prouince of Tartaria, where he tolde them it was daungerous trauelling: for those Seas were still frequented with Pyrates, and Robbes, whose words immediately they found true. For they had not Sayled the space of two houres, but they espyed a farre off, a ship making towards them amaine, whom Brazil­lus presētly knew to be Pirates, and therfore vttered these spee­ches. Most worthy Knights, now prepare your selues to resist the enemie approching vs, whom I knowe to be such as seeke the destruction of all passengers, (into whose handes if you fall, you may expect nothing but cruell tyrannie and hard vsage. By that time he had ended his speeches, the Pirates had laied thē aboorde, and began to enter their ship, but Parismus and Polli­pus, hauing Armed themselues, with thier weapons drawne, demanded of them what they would haue? their Generall hea­ring theyr speech, told them he would haue them yeelde. Yeelde (quoth Parismus,) that wee will, wherewith he strooke one of them so violently, that he cleft his head, Pollipus did the like to [Page] another, who séeing thēselues so handled, assailed these champi­ons with great fury, being a multitude in respect of their small company. But they resisted them with such valour, that y^e Pi­rates were greatly discomfited, & a great nūber of them slaine: in which conflict, Pollipus (not regarding the perill he was in, nor the treachery the Pirates might vse) was gotten aboord the Pirates ship, & there made such hauock, that they disparing of victorie, hoysed their sayles, & before Pollipus could againe re­couer his owne ship, were launched from the other a good way, which Parismus espying, desired Barzillus to make out after them. Pollipus séeing himselfe in that sort betrayed, laied about him with furie, that none durst come to neere him: at last, the Generall noting his valour, came vnto him w^t these spéeches, Knight (quoth he) yeeld thy sel [...]e, and doo not he p [...]worse mis­chief vpō thy head, by procuring my further displeasure against thee, for if thou wilt aske mercie at my hands, I wil giue it thee, otherwise, know that I am of sufficencie to abate thy corrage, & bring thee in subiection, in despite of the best resistāce thou cāst make. Pirate (quoth Pollipus) I scorne thy proffered friend­ship, and dare thee to vse y^e best skill thou canst to conquere me, for I am resolued to trie thy valor. Which words being ended, they assailed each with such fury, y^t it had bin a sight worth y^e beholding (if any had bin by,) to see the brauerie of their fight: but Pollipus assailed his enemie with such valour, that hee had mangled and cut his body in manie places, who being growne fainte with the effensiō of his blood, fell downe at his feete dead: which y^e mariners perceiuing, all at once assailed Pollipus, who so valiant withstood them, that they could little or nothing at all indamage him: One amongst the rest, offered him a thrust, which lighted on his lefte side, at the skyrtes of his Armour, which greeued him worse then all the woundes hée had recey­ued, and so inraged him, that he chased them vppe and downe with such furious blowes, that manie of them in shunning his kéene sworde, tumbled ouer-boorde: manie of them were dis­membred, and the rest seeing themselues vnable to withstand [Page] his force, got themselues vnder Hatches, and Pollipus was left alone. Who seeing none to trouble him, and being sore woun­ded and wearie, satte him downe, as well to rest himselfe, as to consider of the estate he was in.

Parismus hasted after the Pyrats shippe with all speade he might, but doo what Barzillus could, they had lost y^e sight ther­of, which draue Parismus into such sorrowe as was strange, and poore Adonius seeing the Knight she deerely loued, fallen into such mishap, gate her selfe into a secret place in the shippe, and there vttered these plaintes.

How vnhappie am I, that haue caused the losse of so woor­thy a Knight as my deere Pollipus is, who hath giuen himselfe to a carelesse desperatenesse for my losse, who am not worthie for my vnthankfulnesse to be esteemed of him. Now is he fallen into the handes of such as wil soone abridge his dayes, it is im­possible for him to withstand the force of such a multitude, but fall into vtter ruine. O that my vnworthy selfe had bene in his companie, that I might haue taken part of the afflictions he is likely to endure, and haue comforted him in his distresse. Accur­sed and vncurteous that I was, in so many fitte occasions as I had, that would neuer manifest my selfe vnto him, who conti­nually sorrowed for my absence, neuermore shall I enioye his sweete Companie, neuer more shall I lie folded in his Manlie armes, the touche of whose embracings were more pleasant then all the ioyes I shall euer heerafter endure. What resteth now for me, but to spend the rest of my accursed dayes in con­tinuall sorrow for his absence?

Hauing ended these speeches, she suddenly started vp, and with abundance of teares, came to the place wheras Parismus was who seeing the sorrowe hee made, exceedingly woondered whence such kinde loue and affection, and so many Uertues as he continually beheld in him, should proceede. By this time the night approched, and they still made forwards, till by the coun­sell of Parismus they cast ancker, determining to stay there vn­till the next morning. Pollipus likewise seeing the ship wherein [Page] he was, sailed so fast from the companie of his friends, with his sworde cut asunder all the tackles and cordes, that the Sailes fel ouerboorde, and he all Night lay hulling vppon the Sea, the weather being very calme, determining the next morning to compell such as were remaning vnder Hatches, to conduct him backe to the other ship, whom he knew would not stray far from his companie. The morning being come, the ship was with the tide brought backe againe, that the mariners of Bar­zillius ship, gat a sight thereof, with which newes they came to the Prince, who was accompained by Adonius his page, which newes so reuiued him, y^t presently he came vp, by which time they assuredly knew it was the pyrates ship and Pollipus séeing them, stood wauing his sword aboue his head in signe of victo­rie, & being both met, Parismus with great ioy embraced him, commēding his valour: & poore Adonius stood by being affected with such inward ioy, as I altogether want the skil to expresse. When Pollipus declared vnto thē the maner of his victorie, and called vp such as were in the ship, who expecting nothing but death, were vnwilling to shew themselues, but at last came like men agast, being many of thē so greeuōusly woūded, y^t it pitied Parismus to see y^e estate they were in: he demaunded of them of whence they were, who tolde him y^t they had sworne not so re­ueale the truth therof to any. But since it was so that they must needes, they began in this sort. We are seruants vnto Oswald, y^e General of our cōpany, whō this worthy knight hath slaine himselfe a seruant likewise vnto y^e migghtie Andramart, Go­uernor of the Ile of rocks, so termed, for that y^e same is not to be entred, but one way, by reasō of y^e mightie Rocks that incōpasse the Iland. My master cōtinually brought vnto him such riches as he could get vpon y^e sea, & had you falne into his hands, thi­ther would he haue conueied you as prisoners, frō whence you should neuer haue escaped, & we being subiects were compelled to take this kinde of life. In which we haue continued a long time, but being falē into your hands, we intreat you to saue our liues, whose deaths wil nothing at all profit you. The Prince [Page] hearing this report, was wonderfully troubled in mind & begā to couiecture y^t the same pirats that had betrayed thē in the de­solate Iland, & fled with his espoused Laurana, were likewise of Andramarts seruants. Which caused him to confer with Polli­pus, whs waa troubled with the very same thought, and groun­ding their hopes theron, they determined to make triall therof, but first they questioned with Oswaldes Seruants, to see if they could gather any comfortable report from them, who told them, that it was a great while since they were in the Iland, and therefore they could no way informe them thereof. But these noble Knights hearts were so reuiued with this report of Andramart, that they assuredly perswaded thēselues that they should heare some newes of Laurana, and with that determi­nation they chose such of the Pyrates as were fittest for theyr gu [...]es, & with all haste they could, hasted thitherwards, once a­gaine committing their Fortune, to the mercy of the Seas. Not many dayes after, they by happy successe in teauell, were come néere the Iland of Rocks, the wished place of their expectation) then Parismus & Pollipus began to consult betwixt themselues for their best landing, for that it was assured them, that it was impossible to enter by force: for the passage was continuallie strongly guarded, and all things so artificially contriued, for the disaduantage of such as should attempt any thing, that it was altogether vaine to thinke that way to enter. These discom­forts, draue them to the trial of their vttermost wits, for by the perswasion they had to finde Laurana there, they determined (though the attempt were neuer so dangerous) to make tryall thereof, or Parismus rather determined to be detained there as a prisoner, then to leaue any thing vnperformed, whereby he was put in any comfort of his long & wished expectation. Ther­fore calling to thē such as were the seruants of Oswald, they told them that the conquest of that place wholly rested in their powers: therfore Parismus saide, if you will condiscend to fol­low my direction herein, I do not doubt but easily to accōplish the same, and for your truth reward you so kindly, as you shall [Page] no way néede to feare the furie of Andramart, who maketh no other account of you, but to keepe you as his vassalls & slaues, in bondage and cruell seruitude, whereas if you will be faithful and true vnto me, I will set you at libertie, and rewarde you, to your hearts content. For I my selfe am Gouernor of a coun­trey farre excéeding this place, whither I will conduct you with mée, if I happily atchieue my desire herein, or if my determi­nation faileth herein, you shall safely retire into our ships, and be acquitted from all feare of his reuenge.

The Pirates hearing the curteous spéeches of Parismus, hauing also in the time they had been in his company noted his Princely behauiour, and on the other side weighing the estate they remained in, being his prisoners, on whom hée might in­flict a cruell punishment, if they should refuse to ayde him in the request he made, and also considering the little account Andra­mart had alwaies made of them, and the crueltie hée vsed to them: All these considerations wrought such a change in the hearts of these poore slaues, that they fréely condisended to fol­low his directions in any thing hée should demaund.

Parismus was gladde of their consent, but fearing to trust them, hée vttered these spéeches. Syrs, I thanke you for your willingnesse to pleasure mée, but pardon mée, though I make some question of your loyaltie, for that I haue been already de­ceiued by men of your profession: and as I suppose, of Andra­marts seruants, by whose vnfaithfulnesse, these miseries that wée are fallen into haue happened. Whereuppon hée tooke oc­casion to report vnto them the treachery of the Pyrates in the desolate Iland, thereby to make vnfaithfulnesse séeme odious in their sights.

The Pyrates vowed with such confidence to bée true vnto them, that they were fully assured of their faith, and being now neare the place of their landing, admiring y^e wonderful strength of the same, thus they continued their stratageme. Parismus, Pollipus, and Barzillus (who would néedes accompanie them [Page] armed themselues with the best armour they had, and putting on sea gownes (whereunder they had conueyed their swords so secretly, that none could discerne the same) were conducted as conquered by the Pyrats, vnto the passage into the Iland, and Adonius in their company (who by no means would leaue them.) Which the gardians perceiuing, and knowing Oswalds seruants, and thinking the rest to be prisoners, carelesly laid a­side their weapons, nothing suspecting their intent, kindly wel­comed their fellowes, and conducted them with ioy, past their places of resistance, which the knights perceiuing, suddenly seuered themselues, and with their weapons drawne, valiant­lie laid about them, that they soone had slaine such as resisted them. The pyrats seeing this happy successe, went on with Pa­rismus and Pollipus, towards Andramarts Castle, which when they had showne them, they desired (being terrified with feare of Andramarts cruelty) to returne vnto their ships, who laugh­ing at their timorousnes, gaue them leaue to depart with Bar­zillus, who vndertook to keepe the passage, that none might en­ter to endamage them.

CHAP. XXV.

AFter this conquest obtained, and all things as yet falling out according to their wished desires. Parismus and Pollipus, only atten­ded by poore Adonius, made towards the Castle, where by reason that it was late, they could not enter, but secretly conueied themselues into a heape of short shrubbes, and bushes that grew by the Castle wall, sufficient to hide them in, and there determined to take their nights repose. This exploit was so suddenly performed, that those within the Castle had no knowledge thereof, which fell out well for the two knights, who quietly rested in that place, [Page] being no way moiested that night, but were excéedingly gréeued to heare the groues, cries, and gréeuous complaints, of such as remained in prison, which continued in such misery, as it were too heauy to report. Early the next morning, these Noble min­ded Knights, hauing with wise cōsideration, weighed the grea­test perill of this their attempt, attended their fittest opportu­nitie, which thus fell out. Sitting in their secret shrowd, they espyed some of the seruants passe in and out at the Castle gate, whither they presently went, and came to the porter with these spéeches. Porter (quoth Parismus) open the gate, and let vs in. The Porter séeing them, was so amazed, that he stood like one that were senseles: but calling his better remembrances toge­ther: Sir knight (qd he) it is perrillous to enter héere, for be as­sured, if you once come within the gates it is impossible for you to return. Go too (qd Parismus) open mee the gate. With that, the Porter began to ring a Bell, with al his force, but was soon hindred from proceeding by Pollipus, who gaue him so deepe a wound on the arme, that he was inforced to let go: but that litle time of ringing, was a sufficient warning to those within, who by multitudes came flocking to the gate, and opened the same. When presently Parismus offered to enter, but they being strō ­ger by reason of their number, shut too the same againe, and run vnto Andramart, who hearing their report, presently cōmāded 20. of his best knights to arme themselues, himself likewise ar­med himself, and went down to the gate, which he commanded to be opened, & séeing no more but only two knights, (himselfe not vouchsafing to speake to them) commanded his seruants to carry them to prison, by which meanes they had occasion to en­ter within the gates, when drawing their swords they stood vp­on their defence, which Andramarts men began to laugh at, thinking thē foolish to resist them: but it fel out to their sorrow. For Parismus began to lay about him, and Pollipus to desend himselfe, that immediately they had slaine 2. of Andramart ser­uants, which the rest perceiuing, all at once began to assaile these champions: who placed themselues in such order, y^t they [Page] easily withstood their force, and by exquisit skil, furthered them­selues that still the assailants perished, and in short space they had slaine the one halfe of them, and the rest seeing their party still decrease began to draw back, which turned to their destru­ction: for these Knights perceiuing them to quaile, so furiously assaulted them, that they all there ended their liues: which o­thers that stood by perceiuing, fled into another Court, and shut a strong gate against the knights that pursued them, and in the meane time, by the commandement of Andramart, they were inclosed within that Court, by such, as while they were in this fight, went out at a postern gate, & fastned y^e gate at which they entred, so suresy that it was impossible for them to get out by which means they were inclosed in that court. Which when they behold, they perceiued it to be no other then a strōg prison for it was incompassed within a mighty stone wall, and no pas­sages, but the two gates, by which meanes they were betrayed into the hands of Andramart, vnlesse by some strange meanes they should be deliuered. This draue these Knights into such veration, that they could not tel what to do, nor how to behaue themselus. Andramart séeing his men thus flaughtered only by two knights, greatly admired their valor, and also maruelling what the occasion of their quarrel might be, which he desired to know, fearing the treachery of his seruants that kept y^e passage by meanes wherof, before that time, he euer thought himself in security: he spake vnto them (looking from ouer the wal) in this sort. Knights (quoth he) what séeke you in this place, that hath moued you to offer such outrage against my seruants? If any that belongeth vnto me hath offered you discourtesse, Iam rea­dy to sée him make you sufficient satisfaction: if none hath done you offence, I would wish you depart without bringing your selues in further danger: for so much I regard your good (be­holding your valour) that I would be loth to seeke reuenge of these my seruants death, but set you at liberty, so you will pro­mise to depart, with offering me no further iniurie.

Parismus thus replied, If thou art the owner, and ruler of [Page] this Castle (as I suppose) then know that we are such as goe in search of a lost friend, whom we assuredly thinke thou vniustly detainest, for none but thy selfe wouldst do such a discourteous déed: as also hearing of the trechery thou vsest to trauellers, and the continuall outrages thou attemptest by Sea, whereof wee haue had sufficient triall, we determinately came, aswel to find our lost frind, as also to requite the discourtesie we haue found by thy seruants, since which our comming thou knowest what we haue begunne, and our determination is to goe forwards, vnlesse thou wilt vouchsafe of curtesie to let vs see the prisoners thou detainest, which if thou deniest assure thy self we are ful­lie bent to purchase the thing we came for, or in pursute therof, hazard our dearest bloud: therefore resolue vs what thou wilt do, for we challenge thee, if thou hast any spake of honourable Knighthood, to shew the same, in honourable, and not in treacherous sort, which will make our reuenge more sharpe. Andramart hearing the speeches of the valiant Parismus, could not well tell in what sort to answer him, one while purposing to detaine them in that place: but not confidently trusting the strength thereof, that thought was soone vanished, Then he be­gan to coniecture that Laurana was the Lady, in whose search they came: with all remembring that she should be taken from him, which was more grieuous then a thousand deathes, he re­solued to offer them the sight of the prisoners, fearing that they would otherwise doe him some mischiefe. At last, a multitude of sundry cogitations so oppressed his minde, that he determi­ned to try the vttermost of their power, and to put them in the most extremity that might be: and therefore returneth them this answer. Proud Knight (quoth hee) whose malice I no­thing feare, know that I will not in any respect yeeld your re­quest, and therefore content your selues with this answer, that I am determined (since you refuse my gentle offer) to detaine your heere, vntill your pride be somewhat abated, and by that time, I hope you will wish you had accepted my offer: and with those words departed, which vexed the two Knights, [Page] the rather for that they were voyd of meanes to séeke reuenge: being inclosed in such sorte, that there was no way for them to escape Famishment: Where they continued all that night in most heauie case, not beeing able to take one minutes [...]est. In which time, Pollipus according to his woonted manner, tyred his wittes with deuising how to vnfasten the Gates, or escape their imminent daunger.

Parismus on the other side, had his minde troubled with a thousand cogitations, of his beloued Laurana, whome hée thought assuredly to be there imprisoned, which draue him in­to such good hope, that notwithstanding the extremity of An­dramart, hée shewed a countenance of greater ioy then before he had vsed, which reioyced Pollipus and poore Adonius, whose heart was much greeued to see the perill his deere freends were like to endure.

Andramart began to coniecture, that if Laurana were the Lady of whom they sought, then it was his best course to keepe them as prisoners still in that place, and not to destroy them by famishment, as before hée had determined: but to rid himselfe of that doubt. he priuily called Leda vnto him, & brought her vnto a secret place, where shée might behold the two Knights with these speeches, Damsell quoth hee (there are newly arry­ued at my Castle, two Knights, whome I suppose are come in search of thy missresse Laurana: therfore I desire you to resolue me. For if you know them, I will not vse such rigor towards them, as I am determined: But for her sake in whose sight I still desire to be gratious) I will remit the offence I haue taken against them, for the slaughter of my seruants, whom you sée lie dead at their feete.

Leda all this while had diligentlie beheld these Knights, but knew them not, by reason of their straunge Armour: but at last shee espyed Adonius, whom shee very well knewe, thereby assuring her selfe, that it was Parismus and Pollipus that were in Armour, and fearing that the spéeches Andramarts vsed, ra­ther did proceede from a pollicie to fitte her minde, then other­wise [Page] to intend their g [...]d, for that hée was full of treacherie, shée made him this aunswere. Syr, I knowe not whence these Knights are: neither did I euer see them before: but I would that I might bee so happie, as to carrie any such good newes to my Ladie, or were hee so happie as to arriue in this place, that hee might be, at your courteous disposition, who, I am sure, for my Mistresse sake, would [...]eate him well, but had An­dramart, well marked her countenance, it would haue be­wrayed that which shee concealed, and hee desired: For thee thought the time very long, vntill [...]hee were come to her La­die, with these ioyfull newes: and hee being satisfied with her aunswere, let her depart vnto her Mistresse Chamber, where shee was no sooner entred, but shee declared vnto her the cause why Andramart had called her foorth, and that shee was assu­red Parismus and Pollipus were arriued: rehearsing how they had slayne aboue twentie of Andramarts Seruants, and that they were inclozed in a Yarde, where they remained in very good estate.

Laurana was reuiued with such ioy to heare her déere Lord named, that her heart leapt within her, and a thousand times imbraced Leda, for bringing that happie Newes. Then shee began to consider of the estate they remained in, being inclozed that they could not get out, which thought was most grieuous vnto her: but by the comfortable spéeches of Leda, she was in great assurance of theyr happie escape out of all daungers, in which g [...]d hope shee remained, with a most longing desire, to heare some more Newes of them. Andramart determining not to vse such rage as to famish them, (for that hee had in him some sparkes of H [...]nitie) caused sufficent meate to be mini­stred vnto them, fortifying his Castell so strongly as hee could possiblie deuise. H [...]e was likewise giuen to vnderstand, that the Passage towards the Sea was strongly fortified, and de­fended, that none could pass [...] that way, which brought a great terrour to his minde.

The Imprisoned Knights continued in great care, earnest­lie [Page] studying to ridde themselues from that thraldome. At last they concluded in the s [...]ent time of the [...]ght, to se [...] Adonius on the Wall, who could get downe [...] goe [...]o Barzillus, to will him send them some Cordes, [...] with they could make a Ladder, which was the readyest meanes to further theyr in­tent: which Violetta vndertooke most willingly, nothing re­garding the danger, shee should put herselfe into thereby: and so with much adoo they got her to the toppe of the wall, whose heart began to faile, when shee saw the height she should leape downe, being vnaccustomed to such perills. But remembring the parties, for whose sake shee should vndertake that hazarde: arming her selfe with an vnwoonted courage, not agreeable to her Sexe and weake nature, shee leapt downe: and (the Earth refusing to harme so sweete a Creature) safely escaped the dan­ger of the fall, and with a ioyfull heart went towards the place where Barzillus remained, which shee could scarcely finde, by reason that it was darke: and remembring the danger of the place, she thought euery Bush that encountred her viewe, had bene her enemie. But with more then accustomed boldnesse in her Sexe, shee soone arriued at the Passage, where Barzillus was: not sl [...]eping, but carefully attending his cha [...]ge. Who espying Adonius, requested to knowe howe his d [...]re Lord and Pollipus fared; who declared vnto them effectually the estate they remained in, and the cause of his comming, which Bar­zillus presently performed: hauing good s [...]ore of such proui­sion aboord his Shippe: and leauing the custodie of the Pas­sage, to such of his Companie, as [...]ee knewe to be both Coura­gious and faithfull: he departed and went with Adonius vn­to the Castle wall, and with their Ladder mounted the toppe of the same: so that both of them went ouer vnto the Knights, who most ioyfully welcommed Barzillus. Who hauing salu­ted them, and conferred about theyr Exploytes, at theyr intreatie hee departed againe vnto his charge: whereon de­pented the chie [...]est staye of all theyr safeties, for that they knewe diuerse of Andramarts Seruants were abroade, whose [Page] arriuall might much endamage them. To preuent which it behooued them to haue an especiall regard: being gladde that they had g [...]tten this d [...]ce, they presently put the same in ex­ecution, and gotte ouer into the next Court the statelinesse of which place, in their opinion, excelled for sumptuousnesse, all the buildings that euer they beheld. In the midst of the Court stood a most stately erected Fountaine, whereon werr placed many beautifull Images, of most curious ingrauen worke, the pleasantnesse of which place, much delighted theyr troubled cences to behold: vnder which fountainet hey stayed, to behold the gallant buildings, stately Turrets, and sumptuous walles, that outwardly adorned the place, expecting the cheerefull light of the Sunne to comfort them in their distresse, which presently began to shew his splendant beames, which glistered vppon the glasse windowe, that the place seemed another Paradice, and there they attended the conclusion of their attempt, either to their comfort, or confusions.

The first that entred the Court they layed hands on, and by compultion vrged him to declare what force was in the Ca­stle. Who (vppon promise that they would not offer him vio­lence) tolde them, that lately there ariued at the Castle two of Andramarts Brethren, being esteemed men of great courage, which inhabited the further parts of that Iland, who were de­termined to make tryall of their strength that day: the eldest, named Guilmor, the other Bramon. And that Andramart de­termined, if that his Brothers failed, himselfe would make tri­all of his fortune, but if all of them failed, hée had a hundred ser­uants readie in Armour to ayde him.

Parismus hearing his spéeches, began greatly to dispaire of victorie, considering that su [...]d a number were in readinesse onely against them two, but such was the constant resolution of these two Knightes, that choosing the [...]test place, for their furtherance in Fight, they detemined to trye the vttermost of their Fortune Andramart being early vppe, and discoursing with his Brethren about their affaires, by chance lookt out at a [Page] window, and espied where the Knights (that hée thought had beene sure enough) were walking at libertie, which strook such a terror to his minde, that at the very sight thereof, his heart failed him, which so altered his former purposes of crueltie, that he thought it his best course to vse himselfe towards them, as agreed with an honourable minde. For notwithstanding that oftentimes in tyrannicall manner, hee persecuted such ss ne­uer offended him, yet hee often shewed many tokens of a cour­teous and vertuous minde, though altogether darkened by his crueltie: which together with the feare he had of these Knights valour, and séeing their resolution, caused him to come to his Brethren with these spéeches. Behold (quoth hée) yonder are the Knights that haue escaped out of the place I had in­closed them in, and are come to worke my further daunger, hauing alreadie by their valour slaine twentie of my best ser­uants: two more goodlier knights did I neuer behold, which maketh mee pittie the estate they are in, béeing likely now to suffer death by your Inuincible strength, and were it not that I had sent for you to aide mée herein, and that it might in some measure touch mée with the name of a Co­warde, I would vse them in the kindest sort I could deuise, and remitte all further cause of strife. For I suppose they are come in searche of a Ladie that remaineth in this Castle, whose presence is the onely preseruer of my life, which béeing taken from mée, will soone ende my dayes: There­fore good brethren resolue mee of the best course to bee vsed herein.

Guilmor being of a proude and haughtie disposition, and scorning at the lenitie of Andramart (whose heart was tou­ched with an insupportable feare,) would make him no aun­swer, but presently went and armed himselfe, which they be­holding, did the like, and altogether went downe into the Court,

And without any spéeches, the two brethren being full [Page] of scornefull pride, fully assuring themselues of the victorie, as­sailed Parismus and Pollipus.

Who seeing no greater oddes, but one to one, entred the Combat so [...]hearefully, as it had beene a sport or pastime, which continued a good while betwixt them, without any great disaduantage, on eyther par [...]e: the noyse of whose weapons (clashing on theyr Armour, came to Lauranaes hearing, who coulde by no meanes take any rest that night, for feare and thought taking, least Andramart should worke the death of her déere Lord and friende, that on a suddaine starting to a windowe that lookt into the Courte, shee [...]spyed the foure Knightes Combatting assuring her selfe, that her friendes were twoo of them: whome shee knewe not, but as shee was informed by Leda to bee those in the blewe Armour. Whose sight reuiued the afflicted heart of Laurana: but on the cont [...]ary parte the daunger shee sawe them in, as much tormented her with feare.

Andramart standing by, to beholde the issue of this Combate (hauing an eye to the windowe where Laurana was) vnfortunately espied her looking out: Where vppon immed [...]ately hee sent foure of his Seruants to remooue her into a strong and close Prison, farre from their sight, which so tormented the minde of Laurana (togither with the feare shee conceiued for Parismus, hauing no friend but Polli­pus, inuironed with a number of enemies) that had not Leda laboured the contrarie, shee hadde there ouercome her vitall sences with extreamitie of sorrowe, Still continu­ed the Combate betwixt the Champions, but Pollipus seeling himselfe sore wounded by Bramon, was so inraged with furie, that with all his force and skill, hee laboured with such puissaunce against his assayling enemie, that hee had soone laide him at his foote dead. Which Andramart per­ceiuing, [Page] came to Pollipus with these spéeches.

Knight (quoth hée thy taske is not yet ended, for héere am I to reuenge the death of him thou hast now conquered, wherewith hee beganne to assaile Pollipus with all his force: who aunswered his blowes with the like courage, by which time Parismus hadde left his enemie breathlesse, who lay wallowing at his feet, strangled with his owne bloud.

Andramart seeing the same, woulde haue [...]edde, (fearing his owne downfall) hut Pollipus seeing his in­tent, thought now or neuer to shewe préefe of his valour: therefore to ridde themselues from further daunger, with both his handes strooke with such violence vpon his crest that the weakenesse of his Armour, yeelding to the sharpenesse of his sworde, and force of his blowe, so astonisht him, that hée staggered: Wherewith Pollipus closing with him, ouerthrew him on the ground, and thrust his sworde through his body in diuers places.

By which time Andramarts seruants seeing the distresse their Maister was in, all at once assailed Parismus and Polli­pus, who could not well tell how to indure and further as­sault, but drawing backe to the corner of the Court, placed themselues in such sort, that their enemies could not greatly indammage them, but still receiued the woorste, most of them beeing in small continuance of sight, sore woun­ded, and many of them were slaine, so that they seemed therewith like men that were desperate? One amongst the rest, that Andramart hadde before taken Prisoner, but for his good qualities hadde againe released, as one of his chiefest seruants, whose name was Tellamor, seeing Andramart slaine and marking the braue and valiant cou­rage of these two Knights, vsed all the perswasions he could to withdrawe his fellowes from their madnesse: who still followed their reuenge eagerly, without any consideration [Page] of the little good they could reape thereby, at last some of them beganne to listen to them, by which meanes Pollipus ha [...]e re [...]pit to breath himselfe, and Parismus perceiuing them to stand doubtfully, debating matters betweene themselues, be­ganne to speake to them in this sort. Maisters quoth hee, mee thinks men that are indued with reason (as you should bee,) should not shew themselues in incōsideratie, as [...] seeke reuenge against those that neuer harmed you: what causeth you thus wilfully to endanger your selues by offering vs violence? you will say, the death of your maister: why what was hee but a Tyrant, what account did he make of any of you? but to kéepe you as his vassalles and slaues, in bondage and extreame ser­uitude: how was hée estemed of any? but as a cruell homicide, a robber and spoyler of poore personages, whereby him selfe and such as were his seruants were hated and despised of all good people. Did he not continually tyrannise ouer you in most cru­ell sort, t [...]at many of you were put to shamefull offices, & for euery displeasure in danger of death and imprisonment, by his furie? what doe you thinke was the cause of our arriuall here? not (as you suppose) to make you captaines, nor to get wealth, or the spoyle that théeues and robbers seeke after, nor yet to offer violence to Andramart, or any of you, but to redee [...]e a losse friend that your maister hath wrongfully detained. Then let that wisedome rule your minds, that should be in men, & thewe what you require at our hands, and we will in any reasonable respect satisfie you. We are not determined to stay among you to beare rule ouer you, thereby to spoyle you of your wealth, but will leaue this Castle and the riches thereof, as yours to dispose of, which you may quietly enioy, now your cruell maister is dead, whose life would haue beene cause o [...] your fur­ther seruitude, but by his death you are freede from the crue [...] bondage and slauerie wherein you liued, and haue by the same occasion, the choyse of electing, or refusing of quiet content, and peaceable wealth. Parismus had no sooner, ended these spéeches but, by a generall consent (being perswaded thereto by Tella­mor, [Page] whose counsell they highly estéemed) they cast downe their weapons, and yéelded themselues: which greatly chéered the hearts of both the knights, being before that, in great perill and hazard of their liues, hauing taken the faithful oath of their loyaltie. Pollipus pulling off his Helmet, began greatly to ex­toll and commend their wisdome, in that they had that good consideration, to conceiue aright of Parismus spéeches: promi­sing them, that by his consent, Parismus should so highly con­tent them before their departure, that they would for euer ac­count themselues happie by their arriuall. And hauing taken order for their securitie, (not trusting them, notwithstanding their oathes, because they knewe them to be vnaccustomed to vertuous humanitie) they were conducted to very faire and sumptuous chambers, by Tellamor, and there had their wounds carefully drest by Adonius, whose tender heart bled droppes of warme blood, to sée the purple gore that issued from their mangled bodies, whose care and diligent tendance, was a great comfort vnto them at all times: by meanes whereof, they made such account of him, that they would not haue par­ted from him for any good in the world. Tellamor hauing béene vertuously brought vp (being also a knight of good account, and honourable parts) carefully prouided all things necessary, and with such affection tendered their safetie, that there could no mischiefe bée attempted by Andramarts seruants, (whose heades still ruminated on treacherie) but he would still séeke to appease and preuent the same, whose diligence was well mar­ked of the two knights, whereby they grew into good liking of him, and much commended his curtesie.

XX. VI.

PArismus all this while could by no meanes be quiet for thinking on Laurana, there­membrance of whose absence was con­tinually in his minde, more thē was won­ted, whereby his perswasson of some hap­pie newes of her abode in that place, still increased: which caused him the next day to resolue himselfe by searching, for other­wise he could not learne, for that Andramart would not suf­fer any of his seruants but onelie foure to see or haue any knowledge of Laurana, who were all slaine with their maister, that comming to Pollipus they went to search the Castle. And first of all beeing directed by Telamor, they came to the prisons, where were manie strangers of sundrie Nations, lying in the most wofull and lamentable miserie that euer eye beheld: their ioynts and flesh being worne with the weight of the Irons wherewith they were fettered; who then be­ganne to feare there vtter destruction, which they had long expected: but contrary to their thought and expectation, they were set at libertie, which greatly comforted their dying hearts.

From thence they went vnto the Dungeons of the Castle, wherein were many distressed wights remaining, that of long time had not seene the pure light, nor felt the comforable heate of the Sunne, and now to their ioy were set at libertie, who highlye applanded the labour and bountie of these [Page] two most noble and courteous knightes. Parismus hauing not yet founde the ioye hée expected, could not ha [...]bour in his minde any [...]est, vntill that hee hadde searched all ouer the Castle, sauing the place wherein Laurana was, which was so serresly conueyed amongst the other buildings, that the way thereto could hardely bée found, whereby Parismus was deceiued. And thinking verily that there was no place but hée hadde alreadie searched, entred into most heauie and sorrowfull cogitations: and being wonderfully discouraged of all comfort, wandered from Pollipus, who was earnestly in talke with Tellamor) and by chaunce happened on a darke entrie, which place séemed to agrée with his heauie dispositi­on: into which hauing entred, and a while walked vp and downe, hee found a doore at the further ende thereof, fast shut, which caused him to cease his mourning, and study how to open the same, which he had soone effected: and entring fur­ther, he found a most stately chamber, wherein were diuers signes that it was not vnfrequented, but being vnarmed, hee would not too rashly goe further, least he might vnawares run into daunger. Therefore softly he lifted vppe the hangings, be­hinde which was a doore into another Chamber, where he be­held a Lady sadly sitting vpon the earth, with her [...] to­wardes him, leaning her head vpon the beds side. At which sight his heart began to throb and pant excéedingly, but looking more narrowly, hée espied a damosell with blubbered chéekes, weeping to heare the restlesse plaints her mistresse had made: who hauing with extreame sorrowe be wailing her vnfortunate estate, beeing likewise terrified with remembring the daun­ger Parismus was in, and griese to bee abridged his sight, was fallen into a silent s [...]mber: wherein shee had not lo [...]g continued, but at the very instant when Parismus en­tred the chamber) she dr [...]med he stood behind her, wherewith shée waked, and earnestly looking about her shee espyed him, wherewith she was extreamely amazed, fearing least shee had still heene in a dreame, that she stood fearefully trembling [Page] betwéene an earnest hope, and acomfortlesse dispaire. But Pa­rismus assoone as he beheld her face knew her, and tooke her in his armes, with such excéeding ioy to them both, as that the teares, procéeding from kind affection, ranne downe both their chéekes in abundance. And Led a séeing her Lord, knéeled at his féet, with such exceeding ioy, as is not to be exprest, who had no leysure to speake to her, his heart was so replenished with exceeding content, by the sweete and delectable presence of his vertuous and louing Laurana: whom a thousand times he fol­ded in his armes, & as many times greeted her ruddie lippes with sweet kisses, in which louing imbracings, they continued a good space, being vnable to thinke of anything else. But at the last, hauing somwhat recreated themselues with that kind­nesse. Parismus vttered these speeches: Most kinde and louing Princesse, since we are thus happily met, and that we haue now no further cause of sorrow, it would be grieuous to make rehearsall of our said mishaps since our parting, therefore let your heart be at quiet, and now forget all former griefes, which were vnfortunately occasioned by my negligence, and accept my acknowledgement of offences, for a sufficient satisfaction, and let your vertuous bountie, still bring me farther in admi­ration of your vertue, vnto whom I am most infinitly bound in all the bonds of true and loyalfriendship. To recount my no­ble friend Pollipus kindnesse (by whose valour I haue escaped many imminent dangers) and the kind tendance I haue had of poore Adonius, craueth a longer circumstance, and therefore at this time I will omit the same, onely desiring you to make such estimation of them, as of my most déerest friends, but by whose meanes I had neuer enioyed the fruition of your hea­uenly company. I now account all paine pleasure, and the re­ward of my trauailes so bountifull, as all the worlds dignitie cannot counteruaile: Hauing at last attained the hight of my desire, and fulnesse of all felicitie, by enioying your vertuous presence, whose absence was more bitter vnto me, then a thou­sand deaths. Many other most louing and kinde speeches past [Page] theyr Lippes, being often interrupted with swéete kisses, and harty embracings, that in this delight, they would haue conti­nued a long time, but that the de [...]e Parismus had to acquainte Pollipus with h [...]s happy ne [...]s, and Laurana to see her friend, caused them to break off and walke out to him, who had quick­lie mist Parismus, and beganne earnestly to enquire for him: in which time of his absence, hee had sought in most places of the Castle, but still mist the darke passage wherein hee was entred, which draue him into a carefull woonder, what should bée be­come of him. Wherwith he began greatly to feare, that he was by som treachery endangered, but suddenly in the midst of this perplexity, hée espied him with Laurana, coming towards him: which sight exceedingly reioyced his heart, with an vnexplica­ble ioy. When comming to Laurana, hee reuerenced her with all humilitie, and shee most kindely saluted him, yeelding him many hearty thankes for his honourable Loue and kindenesse showne, in the manifold paines hee had taken for her behoofe.

Likewise speaking to Adonius, shee greatly commended, and kindely thankt him for his diligent seruice to Parismus, promi­sing to reward him with all kindenesse. So with exceedin [...] ioy on al sides, they spent the rest of that day, in pleasant communi­cations, hauing all things necessarie, readily prouided by Tel­lamor, and diligently ministred by such prisoners as had recey­ued theyr libertie: who had now so well refresht themselues with wholesome meates, that they were of sufficient strength, both for theyr owne defence, and the safety of those that had set them at libertie, whom they exceedingly tendred.

Parismus presently sent a messenger to Barzillus, to certifie him of theyr happy successe, who leauing the custodie of the Passage to his trustiest Souldiours, came to be partaker with them in theyr reioycings.

But not withstanding, when all thought there was no more cause of sadnesse, theyr quiet and pleasures were darkned by the heauie countenance of Laurana, who could not forget the death of her yong sonne Parismenos, but still was purposed [Page] to conceale the same from Parismus, which made them great­ly to maruell. And vppon a day when Pollipus by the intrea­tie of Parismus hadde rehearsed the whole discourse of all theyr Aduentures in the Desolate Iland, and the occasion of theyr arriuall in that place, Laurana with these sad remembrances, was put in minde, déepely to compare her owne miseries with theirs, and found them to be greater, for that they were all in safety, but shee missed her young Sonne, who was vntimely lost, which strooke such a sadnesse into all her Sences, that sud­dainely shee burst into aboundance of teares. Which draue them all into an admiration, that Adonius and Leda seeing her teares, could not refraine from partaking with her in that sadnesse, but (as the custome of Women is) wept for company. Parismus maruelling what was the cause of her sorrowe, and desirous to knowe the same, for that his heart therewith was excéedingly tormented, most earnestly intreated her to vnfolde the cause of her griefe, that he might (i [...] it were possible) comfort her therein.

Laurana beeing vnwilling in the least degrée to shewe her selfe vndutifull to his will, began to declare the manner of her bringing to that place by the Pyrates, after they had betrayed him on the coast of the Desolate Iland, as also the kindnesse she had found at Andramarts handes, and how that from time to time, he had vsed her in most honourable sort.

But my Lorde (quoth shee) Andramart had a Sister na­med Adamasia, who many times vrged mée to yeelde to Loue her Brother: Which when shee could effect by no perswasi­ons: First shee imprisoned my Seruant Leda, next shee with­helde from mee (the cause of this my sadnesse,) my young Sonne, that was borne in this vnluckie place, whome I cau­sed to be named Parismenos, and with cruell torment afflicted my bodie, and daylie caused two Olde-Women to whippe me in most cruell sort, which I was contented to endure. But when shee sawe that all this would not preuaile, she caused the Nurse that kept Parismenos, to come vnto mee with a Mes­sage, [Page] in this sort; That vnlesse I would in euery respect ful­fill her demaunde, [...]hée would before my face strangle that ten­der Babe.

And being about that cruell déede, I intreated her to referre his punishment and vnnaturall Doome, vntill the nexte day, since which time I neuer saw my tender Babe; nor is hée, or his Nurse any where to be founde: and afterwardes againe, shee centinued her former manner of crueltie.

Nowe Andramart all this while by perswasions of his Si­ster, absented himselfe from mée (for that shée had promised him to obtaine my consent to his request) nothing misdoubting the crueltie shée daylie vsed to mee. But at length séeing his sute still frustrated, and finding (as well by mine owne report, as by other manifest prooses) her treacherie, and my miserie, hee would with his Sworde haue slaine her: but shée running a­way, to auoyde his rigour, burst her necke downe a payre of stayres.

The two Olde-Women hée likewise slue with his owne hands: my Seruants he sent vnto mee, and euer after againe, vsed me in most kinde and good sorte. And the very day when you entered in fight in this Court, he caused mee to be lodged in the place where you found mée. The greatest cause of this my sadnesse is, the losse of my young Sonne, whose death was vntimely, and whose presence would haue expelled such sadde thoughts as haue possessed my minde: and disquieted the hap­pie content I should receiue by your honourable presence.

Parismus hauing heard the summe of her Tragicall report, could not chuse but grieue, especially to think of the miserie she had indured, and the death of his young Sonne, whom he had neuer seene, that what with his, and Lauranaes sadnes, all the whole company were growne into heauinesse. But with the comfortable perswasions of pollipus, the remembrance of these griefs were somwhat mittigated. Many dayes after they stayd in this Castle, in good and quiet estate, vntill the longing desire Parismus had to returne into Thessalie, caused him to make [Page] prouision for his Departure. Tellamor hauing knowledge thereof, desired that hée would vouchsafe hée might attend on him in his Trauells, for that himselfe was of Salmatia, who trauelling in the searche of a Sister that hee had lost, was ta­ken by those Pyrates, rehearsing the whole trueth thereof; whereby Parismus knewe him to bee brother vnto the Damo­sell, in whose rescue Osiris was wounded, as hath beene before declared: which caused him make greater account of him, then before he had done, and enter into a deepe insight of his former courteous behauiour, and with all the best kindenesse he could, yeelded him thankes for the great Friendship hee had showen him, and his friend Pollipus since theyr arriuall: telling him, that hee néeded not make any further search for his Sister, for that shée was in the Court of Thessalie, in good health, repea­ting the whole circumstance of the Fauours hee had found a [...] her handes, and the manner how shee was taken by the Out­lawes. Which newes much gladded Tellamors heart, as also that hée had liued to be so happie, as to be esteemed o [...] so wor­thie a Knight as Parismus was: that hauing assurance of his Sisters safety, and his owne happy Fortune, to haue so fit an occasion to rid himselfe from bondage, hee euer after indeuou­red by all dutifull means to grow further into his good fauour.

Parismus and Laurana, remaining in happie and peaceable contentednesse, by meanes of theyr good successe, hauing respite to viewe others griefes, began to note the sadde countenance of Pollipus, which before they did not marke: which caused Parismus suspect that his olde Sore was not cured, which was, his Loue to Violetta, wherein hee aymed aright: for Polli­pus seeing his trauells for Laurana, were at an ende, beganne to desire to heare some newes of Violetta.

And though there was no likelyhood fore him to attaine her Loue, yet the extreamitie of his affections were such, that hee thought he could no way content himselfe better, then to spend the rest of his life in her seruice, still purposing (according to a most noble and constant Resolution,) neuer to desist from [Page] shewing the true zeale he bare to purchase her fauour. Often­times hee could spend many houres in secrete complaintes and Protestations of his true and loyall Loue: wherin (according to the humours of Loue-sicke people) hée thought hee did in some measure ease his heart. Which behauiour of his, Vio­letta well noting, (as beeing infected with the selfe-same dis­ease) would oftentimes interrept him in his sadde Lamenta­tions with such conceytes, that Pollipus woondered to sée such wisdome in a Boy: but by reason that shee was taken to be no other then a Boy, he entred into no déeper consideration of her actions. In the silent Night time Violetta did with such kind­nesse affect his complaintes, that when hée sighed, shée likewise sighed: and if hée chanced at any time to complaine of his hard Fortune, Violetta would as often blesse the happie time, and houre when shee first saw him, and that shee was so happie to be beloued of so honourable a Knight. The variable difference of whose Ioyes were contrarie: For Pollipus (little thinking his Violetta had bene so néere him) continually spent his time in heauinesse, not being any way able to comfort himselfe with any hope of attayning his wished desire, being eftsoones terrifi­ed with the remembrance of her last doome, and deniall to his sute, as also the manifolde mischaunces that might befall her, or that shee hadde so wilfully thrust herselfe into, with a thou­sand other displeasant thoughtes, sufficient enough to discou­rage anie from presuming vpon any good successe. By meanes whereof, hee continually remained in most heauie and sadde Estate, still deuising how to ease his heart of that care it en­dured, wherein hee greatly excelled in constancie, the fickle and wandring thoughtes of diuerse, which are discouraged from persisting in theyr first Resolutions, for euery small dis­com [...]ture.

Violettaes Ioyes were as excéeding, as his sorrowes were extreame; For [...]hee behelde continually behelde the constancie that raigned in his heart to her wards, the noble gifts where­with his minde was indued, the comlines of his goodly propor­tion; [Page] which might well please a curious Ladyes eye, his vn­conquered Ualour and prowesse, whereby hee atchieued incre­dible victories with great Fame: the friendship and courteous behauiour that abundantly flowed from his gentle hart, wher­by it was apparant, that hee did not disdaine the meanest per­sons. Besides, hearing the continuall complaints hée made of her hard sentence, and the constancie of his Resolution, for that he determined to spend his life in her seruice: and all the plea­sure shée tooke in his company, being neuer from him in the day time, and his Bedfellow in the night, that she was priuy to all his actions, vsing many kindnesses, which he full little thought procéeded from such affection.

And nothing déeming Violetta had bene so priuie to all his Cogitations, though shée poore soule, neuer touched his bodie, but with a trembling feare, remembring her owne Nakednes, still vsing such a Modest kinde of bashfulnesse in her actions, as if many Eyes had beene priuie to her Disguise, and watch­fully noted her behauiour, wherewith her ioyes continued in such a secrete content, as is not to be expressed. And one night when she hadde shrowded her selfe within the Bed, as Pollipus lay tossing and tumbling, by reason of the restlesse thoughtes hee endured: In the midst of his heauinesse, Violetta pittying his sorrowes, and to drawe him from remembring them, vtte­red these spéeches.

Syr knight (qd. she) I maruell what passion that is, which so distempereth your quiet Sleepes, and if my talke be not of­fensiue vnto you, I beseeche you make mee acquainted with the same: for in all my life time I neuer beheld the like in anie man. Poore Boy (qd. Pollippus) it were but follie for mee to expresse that to thée whereof thou canst not iudge: for that thy yeares are not of sufficiencie to entertaine such diuine cogita­tions; Diuine (qd. shee) Can diuine cogitations so distemper mens wits? Yea (quoth Pollipus) for Loue is a diuine and hea­uenly gift, and Loue it is, that so tormenteth mee: Not that I Loue, but that I am not beloued againe. For in Thessalie I [Page] loued a Damsell named Violetta, whose excellent Beautie, and vertuous gifts, haue so inthralled my Senses, that I feare me Boy, it will be to mée a cause of perpetuall heauinesse. Whose absence is cause of my griefe: and not onely that she is absent, but that I knowe not where to beholde her Attractiue beautie, for euen at my comming from Thessalie, she was (I know not by what misaduenture) missing to my great sorrowe, in whose continuall search I am determined to spende the rest of these my wearysome dayes.

It is very much, mee thinkes (quoth shée) that you will so much regarde her good, that hath showne her selfe so discourte­ous towards you, and surely you are not of my minde, in that you will take such paines to finde her out, and in the ende per­aduenture reape nothing but disdaine for your good will: For it is likely shee hath made choyce of some other Knight, not so worthy to be beloued as your selfe, with whom shee is departed: Then why will you hazarde your person in the daungers inci­dent to trauell, and spend your time, in purchasing nothing but your owne discontent?

Well (replyed Pollipus) howsoeuer I am rewarded, a thou­sand more perills then I can imagine shall not discourage me. For were I but so happie as once to finde her, then would I commit the rest to my good Fortune, which shalbe sufficient, if I can but once againe make my Loue knowne to her, that shée may haue some further triall of my seruice. If shée should not regard you (qd. she) according to your hearts content, I should account her the most discourteous Lady liuing: and were I in her case, I would indure a thousand deaths, rather then shewe my selfe ingratefull to so honourable and kind a friend: and be­cause I would see the issue of your loue, I desire you that I may be partaker with you in your Trauells: For though I am al­together vnworthie to be estéemed of you, yet if you would vouchsafe mee that kindenesse, I would both shewe my selfe dutifull and diligent, and also rest continually bound vnto you for the same. And thus farre I presume (though my wordes [Page] may séeme ridiculous) that if euer you méeto Violetta, she will yeelde vnto your iust sute, for I know Violetta well, and haue bene better acquainted with her thoughts, then I was worthy of, though shee now hath forsaken her Fathers house, and hath absented her selfe I know not for what occasion.

Pollipus hearing the Pages wordes, smiled to thinke how farre it was from his power, and yet how kinde he was to put him in such comfort. Gramercies (qd. hee) for thy good will, and if euer I méete Violetta, I shall be willing to yéeld thée re­compence for thy kindnesse. Then (qd. she) set your hart at rest and trouble not your selfe with those cares, but liue in hope of some better successe: for my minde perswadeth mee, that you shall find Violetta safely returned at your arriuall in Thessaly, and if you find it not so, then neuer hereafter credit my words, for I haue already hadde triall of the euent of my presaging thoughts, that I haue oftentimes found things fall out euen according as I haue before déemed. Pollipus hearing the boyes speeches, at the first tooke them as spoken of course, but being drawne into a déeper consideration of all his former qualities, beganne to make a doubt whether he should repose any credite in them or no, that his heart euen with those speeches (yet in his fancie, bearing no shewe of likelyhood) was somewhat reui­ued, and therefore determined to make tryall of the boyes▪ diui­nation: such vertue had Violettas speeches, that they wrought an expected euent of perswasion, in the heart of the Loue-sicke Pollipus, who was easily drawne to yeelde conceit of any com­fort, because hee thought Violetta might be still in Thessalie, and so the Pages wordes prooued true. The rest of that night they past in slumbring Sleepe. The next morning Pollipus came to Parismus Chamber with a far more cheerefull counte­nance then hee was woont, which caused them maruell at his sudden alteration: and afterwards they spent some few dayes in great pleasure, and in the meane time made prouision for theyr departure towardes Thessalie, committing the gouern­ment of the Castle vnto two of Andramarts Seruants, taking [Page] their oath to yéelde the same to Parismus againe vpon his de­maunds, leauing all the rest likewise so highly contented, as that they account his arriuall the best good fortune that euer befell them. The rest that had bene Prisoners there, departed euery one that way that liked them best. Parismus finding the wind lye conuenient for their passage, hoysed saile: himselfe be­ing in Barzillus ship with Pollipus and Laurana, hauing in his companie,, thrée other ships laden with excéeding riches and treasure, such as Andramarts Pyrates had taken at sea, and made towardes the desolate Iland, according to the promise past to Antiochus: where within fewe dayes (the winde and weather, fauouring them, they safely arriued) where they were most honourable and louingly welcommed, by the king and Quéene, & especially by the kings two sonnes and daugh­ter, who admired the wonderfull beautie of Laurana, accoun­ting the trauailes those knights indured, worthily spent, to re­déeme such and so vertuous a Lady.

CHAP. XXII.

PArismus, Pollipus and Laurana, soiour­ned many daies in the Desolate Iland, in great ioy and myrth, till their heartes be­gan to desire the sight of their natiue coun­tries: wherefore, they appointed their time of departure within one moneth, which greeued Freneta to heare off, for that she was farre in loue with Pollipus, vnto whome shee vsed many kinde kindnesses, thereby to giue him [Page] knowledge of her affections, but so farre was his heart from thinking of any other loue then Violetta, that hée neuer note [...] the extraordinarie kindnesse she vsed to him, which on the other side, caused Freneta to encrease the heate of her affections more and more. But in the end séeing him so little to regarde her, nor scarce at all to entertaine her courtesie with good lookes, shée determined (though it might be some blemish to her modestie) to manifest her affection to him, which shée presently effected: for finding him walking alone, attended onely by Adonius, shée came into the Gallerie where hée was, kindely saluting him as though shée would passe by. But Pollipus finding himselfe idle, thought to entertaine the time a while in some conference with her, and as kindely saluting her, said. Faire Lady, may I bée so bolde as to stay your iourney, or if your bustnesse be not great, vouchsafe me your companie, that am alone.

Sir (replied she) my businesse is not ouer great, therefore I am the willingler to stay, especially to beare you companie, vnto whom I am much bound, and a greater fauour then my companie would I graunt, so that it stood with my honour to fulfill: therefore this liberall proffer I make vnto you (whome I knowe will request nothing but that which is vertuous) that if in any conuenient sort, I may doe the thing which may pleasure you, it shall bee your fault if you haue not the same. I thanke you hartily (quoth Pollipus) and if I should be vngratefull vnto you for this your kindenesse, I should doo much amisse. And for such desert in me as you speake of, I knowe none at all, but it is your aboundant Courtesie, that vouchsafeth me such fauour, which I knowe not how to re­quite, neither can I be so bolde, as to bring my selfe further into your debt, vntill I haue by my indeuours laboured to shew my selfe thankefull for that which you haue alreadie graunted. Manie other spéeches past betwixt them, which if Pollipus had diligently marked, he might easile haue séene the loue Fre­netta bare him, but he hauing his deuotions vowed to another [Page] saint, perceiued it not, which none else but himself would easily haue discerned. Which stil increased her burning affection, that at last, fearing to misse the fit meanes was offered by so sweete oportunitie, taking him by the hand, & withdrawing to a win­dow that lookt into a pleasant garden, with a blushing counte­nance she vttered these spéeches, Sir knight, contrarie to the maner of modest maidēs, I am compelled to hazard the reuea­ling of y^e which may turn to my disshonor vnles it please your vertuous wisdom, to giue a fauorable censure of my good mea­ning, which I am constrained to do, as procured thereto, by the short abode you determine to make in my fathers Court, as al­so for that I sée your mind cānot conceiue thereof, without I my selfe make demonstration of the same. Wherefore most noble knight, relying vpō your vnderstāding that loue hath seized my heart with a desire to be loued of you againe, which maketh me manifest the thing that modestie wils me to conceale. Ther­fore I desire you to vse that charitable opinion of me, as that my honor may no way be misconceited, and my gréefe relieued, which I would neuer haue vttered, but that I shall for euer heareafter be banisht your heauenly company, the affection I beare you being such, that vnlesse you pittie my estate, your depar [...]re will bée the shortening of my dayes, and my rest­lesse sorrow thereby augmented, in such sort, that I shall for euer remaine in heauinesse. Pollipus hearing her spéeches, was halfe astonied, and now calling to mind her former behauiour, well vnderstood that her kindnesse procéeded from the affection she had vttered, that of a sodain he could not tell what answere to make her, that might in some measure quiet her minde, and ridde himselfe from discourtesie. Uertuous Lady (quoth hée) I sée that I am more beholding vnto you, then I either expected or haue deserued, being sorry that you haue placed your affectiō on him y^t had not recompenst your kindnes by any merit, & one that is altogether vnworthy to be so higly esteemed at your hands: but lady, as I am now in no measure able to yéeld you y^e [Page] thankes that I would, so I trust hereafter my vngratefulnesse shal not cause you repent your kindnes. At which instant Lau­rana by occasion entred the gallerie, by means whereof they left off their speeches to salute her, of whose comming Pollipus was glad, and a while companied them, in such communication as occasion offered. Violetta all this while, had well noted Frene­tas behauior towards Pollipus, and listned to their talke which strooke a sodaine feare into her minde, least her spéeches might mooue Pollipus to yéelde to her desire, for that shée was very beautifull, besides that the daughter of a king, that euer after she grewe into an extreame ielousie of her, that Pollipus could neuer in all the time of his abode there, be in any place, but shée would still attend him, that he wondred at the pages diligent attendance, which procéeded not from the lawfull dutie of a ser­uant (as he supposed) but from the faithful loue of a friend. Pol­lipus hauing left Freneta with Laurana in the gallerie, got to his lodging, to meditate of Frenetas rash motions, and distem­perate loue, and the manifolde inconueniences that might arise thereby, as well to call his honour in questions, for that it would bée thought it was procured by his perswasions, as also for that it seemed shée was growne to that desperatenes in loue, that vnlesse shée might inioy the thing shée desired, it would much indanger her selfe, and rather then hée would thinke a thought to violate his vowed loyaltie to Violet­ta, himselfe would indure death. For Violetta, (though she were no Kings daughter) yet by reason of her excéeding beau­tie she was much spoken of in Thebes, and nothing inferiour to Freneta in gifts of minde, the remembrance of whose perfections, together with his loue, hadde so much bounde him in the inuiolable bonds of true friendship to his first belo­ued, that for euer after hée eschued all occasions to come in Frenetaes sight, but still kept company with Parismus, vnto whom hée vnfolded the whole circumstance of that which had passed betwéene him and Freneta, which when Parismus vnderstood, he told him that she was an honourable Lady, and [Page] that in his opinion, he should do her wrong to reiect her loue, which should proceede from a vertuous inclination, vsing ma­nie perswasions to that effect. Which when Pollipus heard, hee saide. My Lord, I cannot so much wrong my deere Vio­letta, as so soone to yeelde ouer my fancy to loue another, and forget her perfections: in whose seruice I haue vowed to spend the rest of my life. Then good my Lord do not so much iniurie that vertuous maiden, who in Thessalie hath so much ho­nored you, for I will neuer yeeld to loue any but her most wor­thie selfe, so long as my life both last. Parismus then answered frend Pollipus, I would not any way wrong Violetta, nor your selfe, if I saw any likelihood that you should euer see her againe: and yet so much I commende your resolution, as that I shall euer extoll those honourable parts that rule your heart, where by I my selfe haue beene preserued, and obtaine the height of all felicitie, neither do I vtter any worde to alter your affection from Violetta, but to make triall of your vertues, which still continue perfect. And since our abode in this place, may againe turne to our disparagement and hinderance, I will by all meanes possible, hasten our departure towardes Thessalie, whereby, by good happe, you may finde the partie that with­holdeth your happie ioyes, vnto whom I will vse all the per­swasions I can to purchase your content. And also during our staying here, I will labour all that I can, to stay the rash in­crease of Frenetaes loue. Adonius standing and hearing their spéeches, and much a doo to refraine from teares, which melted in his tender heart, to see the kindnesse of these two friends, and the care they tooke to finde her in Thessalie, who was continually in their presence. Pollipus euer af­ter shunned all occasions, that Frenetta most earnestly sought to haue some further conference with him, but when she plain­ly saw that he nothing regarded her loue, but still eschewed her companie, she fell into such heauinesse, and set the greefe therof so neere her heart, y^t in short time she grew so weake, that she kept her Chamber, not once vttering to any the [Page] cause of her sadnesse, though her parents earnestly laboured to know the same, which turned their ioy into care, and their former pleasure into he aninesse. Pollipus hauing knowledge thereof, would neuer come at her, vntill the verie day of their departure, and choosing a conueniēt time when she was alone, onely attended by a damosell, hee entred her Chamber: she no sooner espied him but her poore heart began to leape for ioy, ex­pecting some kindnesse, but Pollipus taking her by the hands, saide; Courteous Lady, I am at length come to your presence, to satisfie your mind for that which I would haue you to know. Your loue to me (that am vnworthy thereof) and the little account I seeme to make of the same, hath brought you to that weakenesse you remaine in, which if so it be, I am most heartily sorrie: but for that I am now departing this countrey, I would now satifie you in any thing I could: therefore I in­treate you to mitigate the extremity of your passions, which I cannot salue, for that long since, I vowed my seruice vnto a Lady in Thessalie, vnto whom I am bound by many inuio­lable bonds of passed promises: neither can I be disloyal to her without impeachment of mine honour, which is the only Iew­ell I most estéeme: then let me perswade you to abstaine from louing him, that cannot shew himselfe so kind as he would, and you deserue, but banish from your minde, all good conceit or o­pinion of me, that must against my will be ingrateful: and if in any other sort, I may do the thing with hazard of my life that may content you, I am héere readie to accomplishe your wil. And in my absence do not accuse me of inhumanity, for I may not nor will not, do any Lady wrong: vpon whose fauour, my life, if it were ten thousand times dearer, dependeth. Freneta hearing his resolute and vncomfortable words, fell in a dead­ly swound, which her maide perceiuing, laboured to reuiue her againe: in the meane time, he departed to Parismus, and hauing solemnly taken their leaue of the King and Quéene, who endured their departure with great heauinesse, they ha­sted to their ships, and soone launced into the maine, and with [Page] a prosperous gale sailed towardes Thessalie. Freneta being re­uiued from her trance, & missing Pollipus (whom shée thought had bene still by her) fel into an extreame exclamation of his dis­courtesie, with that vehemencie, that her brethren hearing her ragings, demaunded the cause of her sorrowe, which shee vtte­red in all respects, as hath bin before declared. Which rashnesse in her, they reprooued with such bitter tearmes, that her care for Pollipus disdaine, did not now so much greene her, as their vnkindnesse. That a multitude of griefes and vexation, so ouer­whelmed her carefull and tender heart, that for euer after, she continued in perpetuall exclamations, against her cruell deste­nies, that with the extremitie of griefe, shée became lunaticke and quiet bereft of sense, and so ended) her life. Which strooke such a sorrow to old Antiochus & his Quéenes hart, that within short space (as by the first cōming of the knights) they had recei­ued their ioyfull libertie, so by their last departure, they receiued the cause of their death: leauing their two sonnes to rule the I­land, who gouerned the same in such peacefull quietnesse, that within short space, it grew to be as famous as euer it had béene in the first beginning of their fathers raigne.

CHAP. XXIII.

WIth prosperous successe, Parismus in fewe dayes landed on the shores of Thessaly, which hée (for ioy hée was safely returned with his beloued Laurana) a thousand times saluted, with glad lookes. Laurana likewise felt her heart possest with an ex­ceeding delight to behold her natiue soile, where her carefull Parents liued, vnto whom she wold bring vnmeasurable comfort. Pollipus he was [Page] animated to comfort by an inward perswasion to heare some newes of his Violetta, and Violetta was affected with no lesse gladnesse then any of the rest, in that she was so happily retur­ned with the vertuous knight Pollipus, and the remembran [...]e of her parents sight, which she much desired to enioy, that their ioyes on all sides were so exceeding, that there was no person whatsoeuer, but had his heart fully replenished with gladnesse euery way. When they were landed, Parismus determined to sende a messenger to the Cittie of Thebes, with report of their health and happie arriuall, which Pollipus destred to execute: and Arming himselfe in an Azure armour, beset with starres of golde, and gallantly mounted with his speare in his rest, hée hasted towardes the Cittie, and hée rode along the stréetes, multitudes of people forsooke their houses, and busi­nesse, to beholde him, and noting his gallant proportion, ther­by remembred the want of the valiant Parismus, that their hearts were affected with a wonderfull perswasion, that either it was himselfe, or some happie Messenger that brought good tydings of his safetie, that by infinite multitudes they followed after him to the Court, being desirous to know from whence hee was.

Pollipus comming to the Pallace, beheld a wonderfull alte­ratiō there since his departure, for al were attired in mourning wéedes, and euerie thing seemed to shewe a signe of sadnesse. When Dionisius had knowledge that there was a knight that had brought a message vnto him, hee coulde not iudge whence hee might be, for that hée was in Armour, and rather tooke him to bée a Herault at Armes, then a Messenger that brought newes of peace.

But dinner being then newly ended hée was brought in­to the great Hall, where was Oliuia, the Queene, the King and Queene of Hungaria, the Prince of Sparta, with his yong maryed Queene Clariana, Daughter to the King of Hungaria, the Lord Remus, who had lately married Isabella: and many other. [Page] When Pollipus was entred, humbling himselfe vpon his knee before the King, he vttered these spéeches.

Most High and Mighty King, I bring you newes of the safety of your highnesse Daughter Laurana: who a [...] this in­stant, with her espoused Lord, remaineth in good health, hum­bly saluting your Maiestie, in all duty by me. They are by this time on the plaines of Pharsalia, addressing themselues to­wards this noble Citie, where within short space, they will arriue.

Dionisius hearing his message, tooke him by the hand, and imbraced him. Knight (quoth he) thou hast brought mee such pleasant newes that I can hardly beleeue, I may bee so happy as to liue to see them: neither be thou offended at my incredu­lity, for my misfortune hath béen such, as I cannot any way re­lie vpon the certainty of any thing. With which words the teares stood in his eies.

Pollipus lifting vp his Beuer, said: My Lord, vpon mine honour, that which I report, is most true. Dionisius knowing him, with great ioy embraced him: the Quéene, and all the rest, could not sufficiently on the sudden expresse their ioy, but yeelded all kind and honourable welcomes that they could de­uise to welcome him withall. Which newes was soone bruted through the Court and City, and the King, and almost all in generall, went out presently to méet them. The Courtiers they reioyced, the Citizens they caused Bonfires to bee made, the Bellesrung, the Drummes and Trumpets sounded: yea, such mirth and reioycings, began on all sides, as if the people had beene newly risen from death, in respect of the sadnesse that pos­sest their hearts, before these happy newes came. Dionisius with great ioy, rode to méete his children, being accompani­ed by the King of Hungaria, the Prince of Sparta, and many o­ther knights and gentlemen, belonging to the king of Hunga­ria, that attended Clariana, and they had not rode far out of the citie but they met them. Where Dionisius louingly embraced Parismus and Laurana (who reuerently knéeled at his feet) and [Page] with teares, procéeding from the excesse of excéeding ioy welcō ­med their returne: when Dionisius vttered these spéeches. Wel­come my deare Son, your happie arriuall hath banisht my for­mer hearts sorrow, and as by your departure, & newes of your misfortunes, our heauinesse increased, so by your prosperous ar­riuall our hearts are refreshed, with ioy, I sée your vertues still ouermaister aduerse misery, & whatsoeuer is in your custodie, is safely protected frō calamitie: my gladnesse for your returne, I cānot expresse, for y^t I feele my selfe surprised with excéeding de­light, When he had ended his speeches, he tooke Laurana by the hand & embraced her with exceeding reioycing. Each noble per­sonage hauing saluted Parismus, and welcommed their returne in curteous sort, they entred the citie, whether they were wel­comed with such exceeding gladnesse on all sides, as could pos­sibly be deuised & the true harts of louing subiects expresse. The streets, windowes, house tops, & euery place were so befraught with a bundance of people, as there was almost no passage left for them to get the Pallace. Violetta, among all the rest be­held her carefull father, standing in his dore, weeping to see the myrth, al else inioyed but himselfe, who continued in great hea­uinesse for the losse of his daughter: which sight attainted her heart, with such griefe, that the passage of her Christall teares, issued with such abundance, y^t al the companie wondred there­at, when all else indured great pleasure being come to the Pal­lace they were on all sides welcōmed with vnspeakeable kind­nesse. Dionisius caused most costly meate to bee prouided, for their repast, and in the meane time caused Parismus to sette downe by him, and Laurana by her mother, accompanied by Clariana & Isabella, three of the fairest creatures that euer eye beheld. When Parismus at the request of the King repeated the whole manner of their misaduenture, from the beginnig of their shipwracke, vntill their returne, with such exceeding commendation of the noble vaiour, and perfect kindnesse hee had foūd in Pollipus that all admired & applauded his victories, that he vttered these speeches. Most noble father, by the valour [Page] of my friend Pollipus, haue we escaped the great dangers wee fell into: therefore I beséech your highnesse, estéeme of him, as the onely preseruer of your childrens liues whose noble wis­dome hath still preserued vs, and his prowes mightily defended vs, without whom, wee had neuer enioyed this happy houre to sée your honourable presence. Dionisius hearing his spéeches rose from his seat, and embraced Pollipus with great kindnesse, yeelding him many thankes. Thus repleat with exceeding ioy on all sides, they spent the rest of the day, in kinde salutati­ons, and pleasant communication, each friend with other. Ex­cept Pollipus, whose heart longed till he had visited old Andru­gia, he found him sitting in a chaire, be wailing his owne mis­fortune, which strooke such excéeding sadnesse to Pollipus hart, that he could indure no company, nor inioy no quiet. Telamor there found his sister, in whose search, he had endured so many miseries. Barzillus, was honourably welcommed by Dionisi­us, and richly rewarded by Parismus, besides all the Treasure that he had taken at the Iland of Rocks. Leda was kindly wel­commed by her fellowes. Parismus spent his time in pleasant discourses with the King his Father in law, the King of Hun­garia, and Prince of Sparta. Laurana in company of Clariana, and Isabella, and many other gallant Ladies, related her hap­py escape from misfortune. Pollipus onely gaue his minde to all sorrow and pensiuenesse, induring the absence of Violleta, with wonderfull griefe: And seeing that hee could heare no newes of her abode, determined the next day without faile to depart in search of her.

CHAP. XXIX.

EArly the next morning, Pollipus Armed himselfe, causing his Horse to bee prepared in a readinesse, and comming where Dio­nisius was seated in his Royalty, accompa­nied by the noble and Gallant States that were in his Court, humbled himselfe vp­on his knee, and said:

Most mighty King, I cannot render you thanks sufficient, for the least fauour I haue receiued at your hands. Neuerthe­lesse, I am now bold to presume into your presence, to request consent to a matter, that much concerneth me: which perad­uenture, you will rather iudge to proceed from folly, then wisdome. For so it is, most Noble King, that I haue made a vow to trauell in search of a friend. In which trauell I am de­termined to spend the rest of my wearisome life, without whose presence, my life will be hatefull vnto me. Then I beseech your Highnes to shew me that fauour, as I may obtaine your frée consent to depart at this instant, for my heart hath vowed ne­uer to rest in any place, vntill I be fully assured of my friends prosperity. Dionisius hearing his request, was sorie so soone to leaue him, and therefore taking him vp most kindly by the hand, he said.

Most worthy Knight, to whom both my selfe and all mine are much bound, it were a hard matter I would deny you: but in this let me intreat you to stay some few daies with vs, that we may make you some small recompence for your paines, and [Page] not so soone leaue vs, who are much delighted with your com­pany: and rather let me perswad you to leaue off this resoluti­on, for the dangers incident to trauell are many, and your selfe haue lately sufficiently tried, and if that in short space you doe not heare tydings, according to your content, you shall haue all the furtherance I can giue you, to doe what seemeth best to your selfe.

My Lord (replyed Pollipus) my staying in this place can­not pleasure you, but rather be offensiue, for that my sorrowes without some good hope of comfort, will exceed the limits of reason: neither will it (I hope) delight your Maiestie to see my griefe, which I can by no meanes auoide. Therefore I be­seech your Highnesse, not to intend me any further honour, but let me haue your licence to depart that haue already sufficient­ly tasted of your bounty.

Parismus séeing his intention, vsed all manner of frindly and kinde perswasions to dissawde him from his purpose, but he as earnestly intreated his consent, for his heart was oppre­sed with that care, that no other thought could take place in his Fancies, but very shortly hee determined to beginne his trauels.

Violetta séeing that nowe or neuer was the time to worke his and her owne content, resolued to manifest her selfe, and with her best diligence attended him all that day, fearing least he should depart secretly, and at night when he went to his bed, (not with intent to sleepe, but to poure forth his vsuall la­mentations) Violetta likewise was with him, shewing a sad countenance to see his sorrow.

But when she had tenderly coucht her selfe by his manly side, shee could not deuise how to growe into conference with him, being strooken with such a delightfull feare, to discouer her self, as she had neuer felt the like. At last she said, most miserable knight, I am sure now you giue no credit to my words, because you find not Violetta here, according as I promised you shold: neither haue I any comfort to attain the fauor at your hands I [Page] expected, because your pensiunesse will not permit me. But might I bee so bold as to craue one request at your hands, which if you please to vouchsafe me, I promise you, that you shall find my words before spoken true (for that I know where Violetta is) and promise you againe to doe more for you with her, then any liuing, but her selfe. Tush boy (quoth Pol­lipus) doe not goe about to delude me with fond spéeches, for thou canst not performe any thing that can further mee heere­in. My Lord said shee, doe but trie me once more, and if I faile, then let mee endure the most heauy doome of your euerlasting displeasure. Adonius (quoth hee) if it bee to pleasure thée any way, I will galdly do it, for the friendship I haue found in thée: then I pray thee as thou louest me, and tendrest the sorrowes I indure, do not delay me with thy spéeches, for I know they pro­ceed from kindnesse, to make me forget my sadnes, and not to do me any benefit in the thing thou speakest of, for I shall neuer be so happie as to be beloued of her, who I feare me left her fa­thers house to shun my company. But notwithstanding the little hope of comfort I conceiue by thy meanes to pleasure thée before I depart, tell me what it is thou demandest, and if it bee in my power thou shalt obtaine it. Violetta was ashamed to vtter her minde in that place, but being sure he could not be­hold her blushing Chéekes, said: the request that I make is this, that you will giue mee your faithfull promise, that at such time as it is you hap to meete Violetta, and obtaine her good will, that the first night you will not offer to doe any thing that may tend to her dishonour. Upon mine houour said Pollipus, I will not doe any thing whatsoeuer disagree­able to her will, for so deare doe I esteeme her, that I would rather destroy my selfe then shee should be any way displeased with me. Then know, worthy knight (quoth she) I am that Violetta you so earnestly enquire after, I am the party that haue so long time procured your discontent, and I am shee whose absence you haue so oft bewailed, and now I am con­strained to manifest my selfe vnto you desiring you to pardon [Page] my hard hartednesse, that haue so long concealed my selfe, and thereby procured your disquiet. Pollipus hearing her speeches, could not tell what to say, being halfe perswaded it was she, by remembring her countenance, and the behauior she had vsed in al, their trauels: as also calling to minde her kindnes, & now at length her owne speeches, could not resolue what to do, for that his fancy still perswaded him it was not Violetta. And on the other side, he had a mighty perswasion it might be she: at last he said. I know not what to coniecture, nor how to behaue my selfe, nor whether I should call you Adonius, or Violetta, con­sidering how vnlikely it is she should be so kind to me, and how certaine I am that Adonius hath done me manifold pleasures. Then sweet Violetta (if you are she) resolue mee of this my doubt, being thereby driuen to that hopefull despaire, that I know not whether my fortune be better or worse then it was. Violetta shrinking a little back, said. Pardon me déere Polipus, for I am your vnworthy friend Violetta, that haue in this dis­guise, made triall of my fortune, and your friendship. Pollipus then tooke her most louingly in his armes, not offering other then his former promise did permit. Yet he was in a doubt still, and could not be quiet, vntill he had vsed such kind meanes (yet farre from dishonour) as thereby he found shee was a virgin, and no Page and therefore assured himselfe it was Violetta: and folding her delicate and tender body in his manlike armes which he had oftentimes before imbraced, but not with such kindnesse, banishing all sadnesse from his sorrowfull heart) with sweet and delightfull tontent, he embraced her with that kindnesse that long parted Louers enioy, when they so plea­santly meete, spending the rest of the night in pleasing and delightfull communication, and remembrances of their for­mer kindnesses, which augmented their ioyes to an excee­ding height. Oftentimes Pollipus would haue exceeded the limits of his former promise: but shee reserued that fauour, for the more honourable delight of their Nuptiall Bedde, but with many pleasures, such as true and loyall kindnes yeeldes. [Page] Thus these two kind friends spent the time, Violetta accoun­ting her selfe most happy so enioy so constaut a friende, as shee had found him by certaineties in their trauell, and hee esteemed himselfe as happie, that hee was beloued of Vio­letta, that had not refused to hazarde her selfe in many dan­gers for his sake. At last, their minds being both at quiet, and satified with blisfull content, these two faithfull louers fell fast a sleepe, Parismus enduring much heauinesse for his friends departure, could scarcely entertaine a minutes rest to his troubled head, therefore he was earely vp, with in­tent to perswade Pollipus (if he could) from vndertaking that iourney: and presently after these louers were a sleepe, hee entred his Chamber, where contrarie to his premeditated ex­pectation, he found him fast a sleepe: and Adonius in most louing sort, laying one hand vnder Pollipus head, and the other embracing his manly breast: séeming in his conceit, the delightfullest sight that euer he beheld: the supposed page being so beautifull, that had hee not knowne him, hee would haue iudged Venus her selfe had been there, to comfort Polli­pus with her sweet embracings. But seeing his deare friend in such quiet and sweet rest, he withdrew himselfe, to medi­tate how to worke his friends comfort, and stay his iourney. By which time, the Sun had lightned all the Chamber with his golden brightnesse, the clearenes of whose splendor, shining full vpon these louers, awaked Pollipus, but Violetta still lay sweetly slumbring, and Pollipus shadowing her with the cur­taines, arose, and soone found Parismus walking at his cham­ber doore, who seeing him, said. My deare friend Pollipus, I had thought to haue found you ready armed to depart, accor­ding to your resolution yesterday, but I hope you are rather determined to alter that purpose, and stay with vs, who desire nothing more then your companie: and were not Adonius well known to me I should thinke you had embraced some di­uine Goddesse in that kinde sort: but notwithstanding, let me intreate you stay some longer time with vs, which was the [Page] onely cause of my comming vnto you at this instant. And I de­sire you for all the friendship that hath passed betwixt vs, bring mee so much more in your debt, by obtaining this fauour at your handes. My Lord (quoth, Pollipus) I must confesse I am too sluggish to bee found sléeping at this instant, while my minde should bée busied with more weightie matters. Indéede, according to your saying (my Lord) I thinke I haue either imbraced some goodnesse, or a more diuine creature: for my former resolution to trauell is quite dissolued, and my heart at more quiet then it hath bin: for my deare Violetta hath bene so kind as to visite me this night, shewing my heart that cause of ioy, as for euer while I liue, I shall account my selfe bound to her: and because your honor hath both bin acquaintd with my loue, and al my intents, & haue vouchsafed me that fa­uour that I shall neuer requite, I wel shew yon the cause of my gladnesse. Violetta hath disguised her selfe, and bin with vs in all the time of our trauels, and Adonius is now chāged to Vio­letta, and hath discouered her selfe vnto me, which was more strange to me then it may séeme to you. Parismus hearing his spéeches, called her fauor to remembrance, & perfectly knew that it was Violetta, wondering that in so long time as shée was in the disguise of Adonius, hée could neuer perceiue the same, nor once suspect it, which affected his heart with excéeding ioy: and taking Pollipus by the hand, they walked together to Laura­na, who greatly reioyced at his happy newes, & presently com­manded Leda to carrie apparell vnto her, and all things that were necessarie, which shée presently executed, and at her comming founde Violetta newly awaked, and tolde her that Laurana had sent her that apparell, which Violetta was well contented with. Parismus, Pollipus, and Laurana, by this time were come where she was, who stood with a bulshing coū ­tenance like Venus intrapt in Vnlcans net, but Parismus tooke her by the hand, & said: Blush not vertuous damosel, for it reioy­ceth my hart to sée you here, could you be so vnkind as in all the time of your trauell, neuer to make your selfe knowne till [Page] now? Well, I sée you haue wisdome in making your choice, and well haue you deserued to be beloued of Pollipus, who I am sure will performe no lesse, neither néede you any more trial of his loue, for that you haue béene priuie to many infallible proofes thereof. Violetta knéeling vttered these spéeches, I thanke your honour, that vouchsafe mee this extraordinarie fauour, as to visite mee, that haue shewed my selfe vnworthie thereof: but I trust I néed not now stand vpon nice tearmes to this worthie knight, for that I may bee fully assured of his fidelitie: neither can I séeme straunge, hauing béene so long time acquainted with his loue. But if my boldnes hath not c [...]u­sed his misconceyte of me, I here offer my selfe for euer to bee at his disposition: desiring you (most worthie knight) to pardon whatsoeuer you haue found amisse in me, or disagréeing of a maidens chast behauiour, and with a fauourable opinion, con­sure of my rashnes, both to try your vertues, as also to disguise my selfe, wherein I haue done (so neere as I could) nothing that might any way disgrace my chastitie, or dishonour my name. Pollipus taking her in his armes, saide: Sweete and kinde loue, should I bee so barbarous, as to misdeeme your vertues, or beare any other then the most courteous conceit of your kindnesse, then I might bee accounted the most inhumane creature liuing, but contrarie to my desert, I account my selfe so inriched and honoured by your loue, that for euer I shall en­deuour to be thankfull vnto you for the same: and beseech you thus to esteeme of mee, that it will bee more grieuous vnto me then death, to bee out of your fauour. Then I desire you let your heart repose that good trust in me, that no miserie, calmi­tie, death, nor affliction, shall cause me once, in wdrd or deede, to be disloyal to your selfe, that vouchsafe me the heauenly hap­pinesse I desire.

Laurana all this while, diligently beholding Violettaes mo­dest countenance and bashfulnesse, came vnto her, and embra­ced her in most familiar sort, saying? Most vertuous damosel, be not discomforted nor abashed at your disguise, for it cannot [Page] be taken otherwise then vertuous: for by the same, you haue shewen a great token of wisdome, to make so infallible a triall of the constancie of your friend, neyther trouble your selfe with any misconceited opinion of your Chastitie, for none can be so discourteous, as to disallow the same. And as for my selfe, I am so fully assured of your Uertues, that I shall for euer hate them, that shal once thinke otherwise then honourablie of you, and hereafter make account to finde me as your most faithfull Friende, for at all times I will esteeme you as my Sister, and whatsoeuer lyeth in my power to doe you good, shall be readie at your commaunde. Violetta kneeling downe, most hum­blie thanked her, for her Honourable kindnesse. Laurana ta­king her by the hand, led her downe into the great Hall, where she was entirely welcommed by the King and Queene, and by all the rest of the States, with maruailous louing kindenesse: who hauing knowledge of her, exceedingly commended her Uertues, and beeing informed of the truth of all that had pas­sed betweene her and Pollipus, (by his owne reporte) grew into such a good liking of her, and so much esteemed her wifedome, that they accounte [...] him the most Fortnate Knight liuing, to make choyse of so vertuous a Wife.

And presently her Father was sent for, who with great ioyfulnesse welcommed his Daughter. Within fewe dayes, by the appointment of Dionisius, shee was most Solemnely married to Pollipus, with great Royaltie, to both their excee­ding contentments, and to the reioycing of all them that were there present.

Afterwardes all Thessalie remayned in great tranquilli­tie, and these kinde Friendes continued stil in Dionisius Court many dayes, vntill Parismus once againe desired to see his na­tiue Countrey of Bohemia, where within shorte time after his departure from Thessaly, he safely arriued, as shall be declared in the second part of this Hystorie, which shall be called by the Name of Parismenos, wherein shall be she [...]ne at large, the straunge discourse & manner of his bringing vp by his Nurse, that fledde with him from the Tyrant Andramarts Castle, in [Page] the Iland of Rocks, with the rehearsall of many strange aduē ­tures he atchieued, before he came to his parents, Thus cour­teous Readers, you sée the first fruits of my gréene labour, rudely put into your courteous handes: which if you please to grace but with a fauourable opinion, I will in the next Hysto­rie, endeuour to make you some part of amends: But if this shall not be kindly accepted, you shall for euer discourage me from bestowing any more ydle time, in these or any other such like exercises.

CHAP. I.

AFter that Pollipus hadde wedded Vio­letta, (as is declared in the first part of this Historie,) and euerie one in Dionisius Court enioyed his owne hearts content, Parismus againe desired to see his natiue country of Bohemia, from whence hee had beene long time absent: as also to comfort his aged Parentes, who languishded with extreame sorrowe, doubting that he was perished.

Parismus now determined to take his iourney by land, the rather for that Lauranacould not brooke the Seas, the passage being long and dangerous, that within fewe dayes Parismus (hauing with Laurana, Pollipus, Violetta, Tellamor, Bar­zillus, and two hundreth Knights, being honourably accom­panied onward of their iourney, by Dionisius and Oliuia, the King of Hungaria the Prince of Sparta, and his beloued Clariana, Lord Remus, and Lady Isabella, with thousands of the citizens of Thebes,) left the bounds of Thessalie, to the exceeding griefe of all, especially to the King and Queen, whose farewelles were exprest with exceeding sorrow [...]s, and hearts replenished with sadnes, whose care for their welfare, and prai­ers [Page] for their prosperous successe, were vttered with a bundance of teares. They on the other side, with like heauie discontent­ment, and sad sighes, left their delightful company, with whom they could euerlastingly haue remained, if waighti [...] occasions had not withdrawn them. To recount their trauailes, and the countries they ouerpast, would be tedious, the rather for that they were neither crost by misfortune, nor any way indaunge­red, but atchieued the tediousnesse thereof, with prosperous suc­cesse, and within few daies, they arriued in the wished country of Bohemia, whither Parismus, welcommed Laurana, with these spéeches. Now most deare Lady, you set foote on the Bo­hemian s [...]ile, whither I haue long time wished to conduct you, desiring you to account both it and all therein, as yours to dis­pose of, and though by your departure, you left your parents in heauinesse, your friends in care, and your subiects discontented: yet heere shall you [...]inde parents, whome you shall raise from heauinesse, friends whom you shall comfort, and subiects whose pensiue hearts will be reuiued with your presence. Then I be­séech you, let no disquiet thought trouble your kinde harts con­tent, but estéeme your selfe both welcome and beloued in Bo­hemia, for thousands of my subiects haue already deuoted their liues to your command. And deare friends quoth he, as my selfe I esteeme you, and as my selfe, esteeme your selues welcome hither, for your kindnesse hath deserued that estimation and recompence, that I am not able to make. And deare friend Pol­lipus, my faithful partner in woe, make you account of all mine as your owne, for well haue you deserued all kinde estimation and friendship of me, whom you haue infinitly bound to you in all league of affection. The Bohemians soone had knowledge of their arriuall, and by infinite troupes came to méete them. Among the rest, Aurestes an ancient noble man, desired Pa­rismus to vouchsafe him such honor, to grace his poore man­sion with his presence, & to expect of his vnworthy entertain­ment, to refresh, himself after his tedious trauailes: whose kind offer Parismus courtiously accepted: where he and the princesse Laurana were so honorably and louingly entertained, as that [Page] the & the rest that were strangers, exceedingly maruailed there at. The aged King & Queene, hauing intelligence that Paris­mus was arriued, & in safety, cast off their former habit of sad­nes and bannished cares which long had tormented them, and with exceeding ioye, vnwoonted state, and inexplicable Maiesty, went foorth to meete him, Royallie accompanyed with gallant troupes of Estates. Parismus seeing his aged parents, with all reuerence humbled himself to them: who could haue spent ma­ny houres onely embracing him, but séeing Laurana, they both came vnto her, most louingly welcomming her, expressing the same with teares, procéeding from the depth of kindnes: with­all vttering these words. Most vertuous, kinde, and honorable Princesses, our wordes cannot expresse your welcome, nor our deedes shew our good will, our ioye for your presence is not to be described, & our entertainemnt too simple to entertaine you, according to our desires. Which said, the aged Queene after a louing embrace, tooke her by the hande, and all the Ladies of high estate, saluted her with most reuerent behauiours, The good King knowing Pollipus, embraced and welcommed him with great kindenes: likewise the Queene welcommed Vio­letta, and on euery side, all exprest their ioy, for their happie ar­riuall. Bonfires were made in the Citie, the Bells [...]oong in the Countrey, and triumphes in the Court, some welcomed them with giftes, some with myrth, some with praises, and all with ioy and excéeding reioicings, which my dulled pen is altogither vnskilfull to describe, the King and Queene, exceedingly reioy­ced in their Sonnes vertuous choise: & in Lauranes presence. Laurana was affected with great delight to see their kindnesse, Parismus had his still of cōtent, and altogither greatly admired Lauranaes beautie, & did their best to welcome and entertaine the whole company that came with Parismus, with all Cour­tesie: that the Bohemian Court, which lately had beene dar­kened with the mists of sorrowe, was now beautified with the pleasant assemblies of Knights and Ladies, that repaired thi­ther to welcome home Parismus, and behold the Princesse Lau­rana, In which place they continued many dayes after. But [Page] Fortune whose constancie was neuer permanent, but dispe­ [...]th their content.

Pollipus and Violetta vpon a day walkt foorth for recrea­tion, some halfe mile from the Courte, into a most pleasant sha­die g [...]ne woo [...], which by meanes of the coolenesse and aboun­dance of sweete smelling flowers, wherewith it was adorned, and by naturall sleight was so pauised, with the assistance of l [...]le t [...]igges and sprayes, that neither the heate of the Sunne, nor vehemencie of winde could molest it, that the place seemed to [...] ease to their delight, where they louingly sat downe, recreating themselues with great pleasure, and at last fell both a sleepe, in middest of which slumber, a rauen [...]us wilde Beare that hau [...]ed those Woods, whom extreame hunger had forced to wander so neare the Court, winded them, and guided by vnluckie Fate, came to the place where they laye, ready to seize vpon the tender bodie of kinde Violetta, who at the verie in­stant (by the Diuine prouidence) awaked and espying the vg­lie Beare, suddainly sh [...]ked. Pollipus amazed with her crie, started vp and drewe out his sword, and rescued her from the beastes violence, pursuing him with such vigor and dexteritie, that the Beare being greuously wounded, shund his blowes, and made hast to get away from him, but hee intending to win honour by his conquest, regardlesly pursued the Beare, vntill hee was quite out of Violettas sight. Who likewise fea [...]ing his harme, and pricked forward with a tender care of his welfare­followed after him, but not knowing which way he was gone, tooke a quite contrarie way, and with eger [...]eppes laboured to ouertake him. He hauing with much trauell slaine the Beare, smo [...]e off his head, and intending to present that spoyle to his Loue came backe to the place where hee had left her, and mis­sing her, [...]ee could not well tell what to thinke, béeing perswa­ded shee wa [...] gone to seeke him, wherewith he was [...]pt in­to an extreame perplexitie and doubt: fearing that if he should go to the Court to seeke her, she might in the meane time wan­der out of the way, and runne into daunger. Contrarily, hee [Page] thought if hée should séeke her in the Wood, and shée bée in the Court, his long tariance might bring her in some feare of his welfare, that in these extreamities he could not determine of a­ny thing: at last calling her with a lowde voyce by name, and not hearing her answere, with all has [...]e he ranne to the Court, with his spoyle vpon his Swords pointe, and running hastily, hee enquyred if anie sawe Violetta returne, but shee was not there heard off, which made him cast downe the Beares head, and without speaking a word, returned towards the Wood a­gaine. Which strange behauiour of his, draue the Courtiers (but especially Parismus) into a woonderfull doubt. Parismus séeing the Beares head, and hearing som spéeches of Violettaes absence, presently mounted a goodly Stéede, and with hast rode that way hée was directed pollipus went. Tellamor, Barzillus, and many of the Knights, followed after him, neither of them knowing wherefore they made such haste.

Parismus hauing ouertaken him, demanded if any mischance had befallen Violetta? My Lord (qd. he) as shée and I lay slum­bering in this Woodde, the Beare whose head I brought to the Court, was ready to seize vpon her, but shée with a shrike awa­ked mée, and I pursued him vntill I had slaine him: and retur­ning to the place where I left Violetta, she was gone: neither can I suppose whither, vnlesse shée be wandred to séeke mée, the haste I made was to come backe to séeke her. Doe so (qd. Paris­mus) and my selfe and these Knights will search the W [...] throughout: So euery one tooke a seuerall way.

Violetta in the meane time, still wandered on without re­garde whither she went, her feare perswading her, that still she heard Pollipus blowes, and the Beare going right before her, that with as much spéede as shee could, shee ranne quite out of the Woodde, but yet not setting eye on him; (the night approa­ching) shée was drawne into an exdéeding feare of his welfare, and her owne daunger: For to goe backe by the Wood she durst not, fearing least shée might againe méete the Furious Beast: and to goe further shée thought it in vaine; for she saw no like­lyhood hée was come out of the Woodde, and there, what with [Page] griefe and wearinesse, shée sate downe vpon a banque, encom­bred and ouerwhelmed with a thousand cares, and giuing her minte some respit to ponder on her miserable estate, for feare of her most déere Knights daunger, she entered into such heauie plaints and lamentations, that euen the very woods and med­dowes whereinto she was wandred, seemed to impart her sor­rowes, & yéeld pittie to her cries & scorching fighes. At which ve­ry instant (I knowe not by what vnluckie destinie,) Archas the cruel (so called for his cruell tiranny came to the hearing of her lamentations, and drwing nigh to her, demaunded her cause or sorrow. Sir knight quoth shée, I am a stranger, that lately came [...]om Thessalie, with the Prince of this Countrie, and this day comming into these woods, with my Lord & husband Polli­pus, a mighty Beare encountred vs, whom he pursuing, I haue [...]ost, and am wandred hither, not knowing wh [...]h way to retire. Archas all this while, well noting her excéeding beautie, and swéet deliuery of spéech, the gratious moouing and disposition of her eyes, which had power to pierce millions of hearts, felt such an inward effect of transitorie confusion in himselfe, that he re­solued, hauing so fit oportunitie offered him, to trie his wittes to win her loue, or exercise by y^t meanes, some reuenge against Parismus, whom he mortally hated, vttering these spéeches.

Most swéete Ladie, my heart is so much tormented to sée the sorrow you néedlesly make, for no doubt your Knight is in safe­tie: pleaseth it you to accept of my seruice, my seruants shall guard you to the Bohemian Court, where you shall find him: and my selfe will searche the Wood, to giue him knowledge of your returne.

Violetta kindly thanked him for his courtesie, who presently mounted her behinde one of his seruants, giuing them [...]ete warning to conuey her to his owne Castle, which was scituate in the mountaine: himselfe tooke her Scarffe, which he said, he wold deliuer vnto Pollipus, as a token that shée was in safetie: wherewith he departed back into the Wood, and tare the same into many peeces, heere scattering one, and there confusedly ca­sting an other, & with all hast, rode an other way to his Castle. [Page] All which was effected before any of the Bohemian Knightes were come, by which meanes, their diligent search was al in vaine: which draue Pollipus to such an extacie of sorrow, y^t he was almost mad, whom Parismus comforted with many per­swasions, vntill Pollipus vttered these spéeches. My louing L. neuer shall quiet possesse this brest, rest giue case to my body, nor sléepe refresh my sences, vntill I haue found my beloued, whose loue is my life, whose safetie is my welfare, & whose qui­et, is my chiefest content. At which very instant, came Tella­mor, bringing the torne scarffe which Archas hadde strewed, which when Pollipus beheld, a chill colde dispearst through all his vaines, and his vitall breath began to leaue his troubled brest, and all his fences forgat their wonted vse. Which when Parismus behelde hée caught him in his armes, saying: Most noble knifiht, where is now your patiēce, wherewith you won­tedly endured extremities? no doubt for all this, Violetta is in health, onely wandred out of the way, & gotten [...]o some house where we shall heare of her to morrow: then comfort your selfe and be not thus ouercome with griefe: for be you assured, n [...] harme hath betide her. O my Lord (quoth hee) my vertuous Violetta, my constant friend, the most truest loue that euer wretch inioyed, is perished. What comfort, what quiet, what rest, what content, what respit, or what ease can I giue to my troubled minde, since she is fallen into decay, shee most purest, most sweetest, most kindest, and truest Lady that euer liued? how can I recouer this lesse? how can I plague my selfe suffi­ciently for my misdeeds? these woods condemne me, her ghost accuseth mée, and all the world will hate mée: miserie wayteth my steps, sorrow pincheth my heart, griefe compelleth me, and care inforceth mée to be thus impatient. Whilest I stand here, she may be in danger: whilest I am negligent, the wilde beasts may deuoure her body: then stay me me not, for I am resolued eyther to finde her, or loose my selfe: and therewith in a great furie, flung into the Woodde.

Parismus séeing his sorrowe, and this mishap, stoode like one [Page] in a traunce, not knowing how or which way to remedie the least of these euils, and in that most sad and heauie estate, re­turned to the Court with his heauie newes, which turned all their ioy into heauinesse, especially Laurana, and all in generall that had knowledge of Violettas vertues, made great lamen­tation for her losse.

CHAP. II.

ARchas seruants with great spéede hasted to­wards their Maisters Castle, and soone arriued there, before whose comming, their Maister had caused all thinges to bée prepared in good order for Violettaes entertainment, who béeing entred, the perceiued her selfe to bée in a strange place, which draue her into an extreame feare and en­quiring of them why they had not conueyed her to the Bohe­mian court, they told her (being instructed before) that they had mistaken their Maisters meaning, and withal, intreated her to pardon them, & also to be a meanes to pacifie his wrath, whom they were assured would bée greately offended with them. Which words of theirs altered that feare, and added some lit­tle comfort to her minde.

Presently two Gentlewomen welcommed her with great courtesie, comforting, perswading, and intising her to remit all care, vntill Archas returne, whom they assured was so ho­nourable and vertuous a knight, as shee needed not any way doubt of his diligence. There was great store of [...]licates pro­uided for her, which seemed more loathsome then gall to her sight. Long they séemed to stay for Archas returne (who ab­sented himselfe to colour his treacherie) but when in a great while hée came not, they intreated her to taste of that meate which was prouided they saide for his supper. But she poore [Page] soule could not eate one bit, but all things séemed to be hatefull: their sweete Musicke harsh: their courteous entertainment, rude and bar­barous: and that well adorned place, more lochsom then a prison: no­thing but care and griefe could take place in her vnquiet brest. After supper, they brought her to a most pleasant chamber, where all things were most neatly prouided, comforting her with many perswasions, that Archas was at the Bohemian Court to expect her comming, and by reason of the nights approach, could not come back that night, but should early in the morning bring her newes, intreating her to betake her selfe to her rest: which she did, the rather to be rid from their com­pany, that being alone, she might enter into cōsideration of her estate: and being by her selfe, she began to reuolue in her minde her miserable condition, Pollipus perill, and Archas intent: for her selfe shee cared not, if Pollipus were in safetie: neither feared she what Archas enten­ded, if her Knight were in health, that so many cares concurring togi­ther, so many doubts clogged her mind, and such feare possest her hart, that her words, burst into a flood of teares, and the warme blood see­med to issue from euery vaine of her body, that with theyr abundance she bedeawed the Bed where she lay.

When she had wept her fountaines drie, shee then began to accuse her selfe of Follie, that would not stay in the place where hee left her: then a certaine perswasion entred her heart, that he was dead, which tooke such déepe roote, that of a long time no other thought would take place, which made her think the Tapers which gaue her Light burnt blue: which likewise added a further setled resolue in her Fancie, that it was so indéede. In this carefull estate, shee lay tumbling and tos­sing her selfe, giuing no quiet to her minde: no rest to her Cares: no ease to her pensiue heart: no respit to her sences, nor sléepe to her head: but being ouercome with sorrow, shee continually rather augmented then diminished the same.

In this sadde and heauy estate she spent the Night, not suffring her eyes once to slumber. In the morning the 2. Gentlewomen came to her againe, offring her all dutifull seruice, which she kindely accepted, and shortly after came Archas counterfetting a sad countenance, with his eyes cast down to the earth: whom when Violetta beheld, a sudden feara infused it selfe into euery part of her body, & she stood shaking and quaking like one transformed to héere the news he had brought, which shee thought to be but bad by his lookes: who with a shamelesse face, [Page] and impudent dissimulation, tolde her that Pollipus was not yet re­turned to the Court, nor heard of, but all supposed him to be dead.

Which dismall words strooke such a sudden griefe vnto her heart, that there she fell downe at his feete in a Traunce: but when by theyr industrie she came to her selfe againe, her amazed countenance, and la­mentable grones made the teares trickle downe her chéekes, and sée­ing her in that dangerous estate, conueyed her to her bedde, whose vi­tall sences were so abated and extinguished, that for a long time, not­withstanding theyr vttermost endeuours, shee seemed no otherwise, then as one bereft of sense: and in that lamentable estate shee conti­nued many dayes.

Pollipus all that night ranged vp and downe the Woodde, in eue­ry corner, searching each Thicket and vnfrequēted place, calling Vio­letta by Name, and tearing both his Flesh and Apparell, with the Bushes and Brambles, that encountred his madde steppes: Some­times making haste this way, then returning backe with perswasi­on that hee hearde her shreeke behinde him, being so fully possest with feare and desire to finde her, that euery Fancie that rose in his braine, altered his former thoughts: that whereas in other mens affaires he séemed most patient and prouident, by his owne hee was quite bereft of reason. In this vnquiet sort he spent the most part of the Night, vntill towardes Morning, what with wearynesse and care that op­prest his heart, he laide him downe, leaning vpon his elbowe, neither vttering word nor teare, but inwardly stufft with extreame vexation, seeming no other then the forme and picture of discontent. But when he sawe Phoebus display his brightnesse, hée againe betooke himselfe to his earnest search, vttering such inward grones, as would haue mel­ted a Rockie heart into liquide teares.

Parismus being early vp that Morning, gaue commaundement to all the Bohemian Knights to arme themselues, and to Post through­out all Bohemia, in her search, and to make Proclamations, w^t great promises of Reward to them that could bring any news of Violetta; that by time the sunne was vp, there were a great number of Knights departed, vowing to search all places to finde her, that all the whole Countrey was filled with report of her losse.

Parismus, Tellamor, Barzillus, presently rode to the Woodde, to Pollipus, whome they found in such heauy plight, as it made theyr manlike harts to melt with griefe. But Pollipus espying them, would [Page] haue fledde from their sight, that loued him most déerely, vntill Paris­mus ouertooke him, and saide. Most deare Friend, how can you be so vnkinde, as to shun my companie, whose Care is no lesse then yours? and who tendereth your Welfare as well as mine owne? Haue you forgotten Manhood, Knighthood, and Courtesie? Where is that ver­tue now become, that was woont to rule your affections: Good polli­pus, for my sake, for all the Friendship, by all the courtesies, promises, and good will, that euer past betwixt vs, leaue off this desperate Folly, and listen to my counsell: If not for all this, yet for Violettaes sake pittie yourselfe, and recall your former Sences, and let vs determine how to recouer her that is but strayed out of the way: Many hundred Knights are already Posted into many places of this Countrey, and will coast all Germanie throughout, but they will finde her; then doo not you increase our further care, by this desperate sorrow, but accor­ding to your woonted Wisedome, wherwith you haue counselled mée in my afflictions, let vs studie how to recouer this miserie.

Oh my déere Lord (quoth pollipus) my Violetta is dead, at which word, extreame Heartes-sorrowe and inwarde griefes, stopt the pas­sage of his spéeche, and was restrained with heart-swelling Sighes, which being a little asswaged, hee againe saide: If I were sure shée were not dead, then would I willingly imitate your direction: Or were I but sure Death had seized vpon her tender heart, then would I neuer parte from this place, though millions of Diuels should seeke to driue me hence.

Why (quoth Parismus) How can you thinke she is dead? When there is no likelyhood, signe, nor mention to be séene thereof? neither her Apparell, nor any part of her Bodie torne: or any other circum­stance, to perswade vs to any such conceyt? Then why will you suf­fer any such perswasions to possesse your Fancie? (Quoth pollipus) How then came the Scarffe so torne? It may bee the Wilde beastes haue secret Dennes, whereinto they haue drawne her Body, and ma­ny other mischaunces may be befallen her, that she was subiect vnto, and yet still be hidden from our knowledge: Neyther let that trou­ble you (quoth Parismus,) but rest contented, and your care that way shall soone be eased; but depart with mée to the Court, to comfort your selfe with some Sustenance, and I will presently giue order to haue this Woodde so throughly searcht, that you shall plainely finde shee hath not miscarryed. [Page] Pollipus with his perswasions, though vnwillingly, went backe with them, mounting on Tellamors Horse, for that hee was sore trauelled and wearie of that disquiet Nights trouble.

Thus for a time wee will leaue Pollipus, returned to the Court with Parismus, Violetta very sicke and weake in Archas Castle, and many of the Bohemian and Thessalian Knights in her search, to turne my Sences to write of an other Subiect, long time buryed in forget­fulnesse; the chiefest Subiect of whereon this History dependeth.

CHAP. III.

AT such time as Laurana was imprisoned in the Iland of Rocks, vnder the gouernment of Ada­masia, Andramarts sister (as is declared in the first part of this History) the nurse vnto whose custody the young childe Parismenos was committed, fea­ring his vntimely death, which Adamasia threat­ned, because his mother would not consent to An­dramarts Lust, secretly (to saue the Child from her cruelty) fled by night into a desolate wood, wher she carefully educated him according to the condition of the place, which was with such wild fruite as the gathered, making many a hard shift to [...]āch her hunger, and defend the swéete Babe from Famine, vntill at length, hearing of Andramarts death, she determined to returne to the Castle, and there present him to his Mother: and to that intent, forsaking her poore ha­bitation she went as she thought, thitherward, but most vnfortunate­ly, wandred into a desolate and vnfrequented Wildernes; where she had not long stayed, but met a fierce and cruell Lyon, who slewe her: which when Parismenos beheld, notwithstanding his infancie, he la­boured with his weake resistance to preserue her: but the Lyon refu­sing to hurt him, withdrue himselfe to his denne, whither Parismenos boldly pursued him: and being entred therin, the Lyon began to wag his taile, and fawne vpon him gently, which made him maruell why hee had slaine his Nurse, and would not hurt him: and made him the [Page] more bolde, that being wearie with trauell, hée layde himselfe dow [...] to sleepe, and when he awooke, being very hungrie, he gathered wilde fruite, whereof there was plentie, which was his foode, and [...]he cleare water his drinke. This was his habitation a long time, taking great pleasure to hunt and chase the wilde bea [...]s, from whose furie he was stil preserued by the Lyon. Afterwards when he was growen to riper age, in his sleepe he drempt, that his Nurse appeared vnto him, wil­ling him to forsake that vnfrequented pla [...]e, and to seeke out Andra­marts Castle, where hee should finde people, in whose companie he should be brought vp.

When he awaked, he could not tell what to thinke of his dreame, nor what she meant by Andramarts Castle, nor which way to go thi­ther, being therewith drawne into a deepe studie, but suddenly hee es­pyed a young Beare, whose sight made him quite forget his dreame, and taking exceeding delight to chase such Beasts, hee caught vp his staffe, and followed her, and pursued her so fiercely, that at length [...]e slew her, wherewith he was wandred so farre, that getting to the top of a Mountaine, and looking round about him, he espyed the Castle, thinking that was the place his Nurse had told him of in his dreame, that he went thither wards. It chanced one of the Knights that Pa­rismus had left to keep the Castle, espied him: and being of a sadde dis­position, seeing Parismenos begin to withdrawr himselfe, ran to him, and offred to lay hands on him. But Parismenos being afraid of his behauiour, strooke at him with his staffe so fiercely, that hadde he not quickly auoyded his blowe, he had beaten [...]ut his braines. The Tar­tarian being angrie, drew his sworde, and therewith wounded Paris­menos in the thigh: the smart wherof so inraged him, that notwith­standing all his resistance he left him for dead.

Afterwards entring the Castle, his minde was drowne into an ex­céeding delight, to behold the goodly buildings and beautie therof. The Tartarians beholding one in such strange disguise: (For he was clad in the skinnes of such beasts as he had slaine, and his haire growne to a great length) much marueled how he came into that countey: with­all, noting his comely personage, & stately countenance, were sudden­ly drawne into a great affection towards him, that they saluted him most kindely, demanding the cause of his arriuall in that place, and of whence he was? who séeing their behauior to be more gentle then the others, with whom he had encountred before, made answer so well as [Page] he could, that he knew not: which [...]lunt answere of his, made them muse. Withall, noting his attyre, they tooke him eyther to be a mad­man, or that he had bene Sauagely brought vp: which they were the rather perswaded vnto, for that hee was very young. Notwithstan­ding, they entertained him, and vsed him most kindly. But his coun­tenance, calling to remembrance the Noble knight Parismus, whome hee so much resembled, that they were halfe-perswaded hee was his Sonne, that the Nurse fled withall. One amongst the rest named Ty­resus, vsed him most kindely, apparelled him decently, and instructed him in all points belonging to chiualrie: teaching him to manage a Horse, and to vse Armour, wherunto he was so apt, and tooke therein such delight, that in short space hee grew to such perfection, that he ex­celled his instructor in all warlike behauiours. And was so generally beloued, that nothing they had or could deuise, was too deare for him.

Many dayes remained Parismenos amongst the Tartarians, increa­sing in many exellēt qualities, not finding occasions inough amongst them to make triall of his manhood. Upon, a time certaine Pyrates returning from Sea, in his hearing, made report of their battells and skirmishes, and the huge Slaughters they had made: reporting how Tragically they murdered soine of the Resistants, and how valiantly some withstood them, and with what trauell they endured the fights. Making particular rehearsall of one Captaine amongst the rest, who so valiantly withstood them, that before they could vanquish him, hee had slaine aboue twenty of them: but in the end, séeing that by reason of their multitude, he must needes eyther be taken Prisoner, or die, he rather chose an honorable death, then to become their captine, and in­dured the fight, vntill with faintnesse he fell downe dead, euen as hee was aduancing his sword to re [...] them. Which report of theirs, kin­deled such honorable sparkes in Parismenoes brest, that he extreamly thirsted to see those ski [...]ishes, accounting it dishonorable for him to spend his dayes in that obscure place: his thoughtes still ayming at higher matters, and his fantie perswading him, that he should rather spend his time in Heroycall exercises in kings courts, then in that vn­frequented place, where no pleasing attempts of Martiall déedes were exercised: which thoughts tooke such effect, that he presently determi­ned to seek aduentures abroad: And comming to Tyrefus (who loued him dearely) he told him his whole intent, asking his aduise therein. Tyresus seing such a resolued valor in him, told him, that he was both [Page] ready and willing to doe my thing that might ag [...] to his Fancie, [...] purchase his content: that if he desired to trauell and hazard himselfe by Sea, he way ready to goe with him: Or if he were determined to seeke strange Aduentures by Land, hee would likewise trauell with him, and forsake no perill for his sake.

Parismenos hearing his courteous replye, could not chuse but em­brace him, yéelding him many thankes. Tyresus effected all things with such speed, and so well ordered his affaires to further his intent, that within few dayes they departed into a Ship, well manned & vic­tualled, hoysing vp their Sailes with a mery gale, committing them­selues to the mercies of the Seas. They sayled many dayes without any aduenture, which inwardly fretted parismenos, for his mind lon­ged to performe some exployt. At last they kenned a Saile a farre off, and towards it they stirred amaine; and cōming nigh the ship, laid her aboord, which was of Barbaria, well manned with stout Moores: who seeing the Pyrates, and knowing that either they must resolutly fight it out, or become Captiues, valiantly resisted them: betweene who [...] began a most fierce and cruell fight, where Parismenos had meanes e­nough to exercise his valor, who behaued himselfe with such courage, that many Moores that day last their liues by his Infant blowes.

Egtadam Captaine of the Moores, being a man of exceeding cou­rage, seeing the cruell slaughter parismenos made, came to him, & vt­tered these speeches. Proud Pyrat, thou shalt deerly buy these Moores liues, for I am determined to bring thy cursed life to an end, that thin­kest by Robberie to enrich thy selfe. Wherewith hee assailed him so fiercely that he wounded him in many places: not withstanding, such was his valor, that with great force he likewise so valiantly defended himself, and offending Egradam, that it was doubtful which of them would haue the conquest. In middest of this truell Fight, a mightie storm began suddenly to arise, and the winds began to blow with vi­olence, that their Cables burst, & both light of day and Sun was sha­dowed by thick Cloudes, the Seas began to rage and swell, that they were enforced to giue ouer their fight, the Thunders roared, and the Lightnings flasht about their ears, & their ship [...] violence of the sur­ging seas, was so tost, that there was none but expected present death. The Northern blast rent their Sailes, one way goes theyr Helme, an other way swims their Maste, with violence forne from the ship, and waue vpō ma [...]e rusht in, ready to ouerturn the ship, who now tossing [Page] vpon the Seas at libertie, was driuen vppon a [...] Rocke, and split in [...]under. Then began a hydeous crie amongst the souldiers: Some cursing Parismenos the causer of that Iourney, some exclaiming on Tyresus, and some banning their own destinies. Some whelmed vn­der the gaping water, yéeld vp their ghosts: here three at once are cast vpon the rocks, & againe deuoured by the waues: there others sunke in the quicksands, and down falls the Maister he adlong: then might you behold men swimming in their Armour: here and there striuing to make their deaths tedious. Here might you sée one seated vppon a planck, ouerthrowne with a waue: there another tumbling with his heeles vpward. Parismenos (by good Fortune) was gotten vp to the Masse, whose length had some power to endure the waues, with his swore drawn in his hand. Tyresus he was gotten on to a chest, where­with a while he applyed himselfe from drowning, but in the ende the raging waues drenched him deep in their spatious gulfes. Within a while the raging Seas began to cease [...]nd war calme, the sunne began to shine, and the clowds to vanish that darkned the skies, and the mast whereon Parismenos satte, began to s [...]de along with the calme tide; When he looked about him, and espyed all his followes drowned, and exceeding sorrowe ouer whelmed his heart, especially for his louing friend Tyresus, that had not the feare he was in reuiued his sences, he would haue waxt carelesse of his owne life. But the remembrance of his perill made him recall his better sences to their former vse, and to studie for his owne safetie, to whom the Seas were so mercifull, that with a gentle and calme [...], he was driuen to shore: where getting to a S [...]y banke, he sat hi [...] [...] to refresh his wearyed limmes, and po [...]der his most happy [...]his gaping Wounds with such l [...]n as hee had about him, who with the falte water smarted exceedingly.

CHAP. IIII.

AS Parismenos was sitting vpon the ban [...]e after his shipwracke, in heauie estate for the losse of his deere Friend Tyresus, it hap­pened, an ancient Duke, of Thrace, named Amasenns, that day [Page] was come into a forrest adioyning to the sea to hunt, accompanied by a gallant troupe of Knights, who sheltring [...] from the storme vnder the craggie cliffes, behelde the miserable [...], and sawe Parismenos swim to shore, and so strangely preserued from drow­ning, vnto whom he came as hée was sitting vppon a sunnie[?] bancke, and demaunded of whence he was. Parismenos beholding his reue­rend age, and the troupe of Knights that attended him, rose from the ground, and with great humilitie bowed his bodie, making this aun­swere. I am a miserable man, by crueltie of the seas cast on this shore, hauing lost my faithfull friend, drenched in the spacious gulfes, being my selfe reserued to furthr miseries, my name is hidden from my selfe, neither know I certainely in what countrie I was borne, nor where my Parents remaine, & now am cast into an vnknowne place, and miserably left to the wide world, to indure such hard for­tune as my vnluckie starres haue allotted me.

Amasenus hearing his answere, and withall, noting his tall and comely proportion and beautifull countenaunce, though by his spéech that his sences were altered with feare of them, tempest, & care for the losse of his friends, that he thus replyed. I perceiue feare of drowning hath made you forget both your selfe, your name, and countrie, which feare now shake off, since all the perill is past, and leaue to greeue for their losse that are inrecouerable, and go with me to my Castle, and to such entertainment as the same yeeldeth, you shal be welcome. I most humbly thanke you (quoth he) for this kindnesse, but whereas you thinke, that feare hath made me forget myselfe, you altogither ayme amisse, for I haue reported of my selfe nothing but trueth. Then stept foorth Corus (a suspitious, and enuious Knight) my Lord (quoth he) it is some Pirate that liueth by spoyle of passengers, and hath heere­tofore done you some mischiefe, which maketh him thus cunningly dissemble

Parismenos hearing his spéeches, could not containe himselfe, but made this answere. Most discourteous knight, neither thy selfe, nor any of this countrie whatsoeuer, shal make me dissēbld, or once falsifie my word, and were it not that the strangers of this place, and the re­uerance I beare to this curteous Lord, withholdeth me, I would euen presently make thée eate that word, & turne it backe into thy dishono­rable throat. Corus being a knight of a proude courage, was so vexed with that reply, that he intreated Amasenus to giue him leaue to re­uenge [Page] those iniurious words. Stay (quoth Amasenus,) and leaue [...]ff [...]his discourteous behauiour to straungers, héere is neither place nor time, for you sée hée is wearied with shipwracke, and faint with [...] of blood: thy pride and discourteous behauiour will one day be thy death: had he done me wrong, yet he hath not offended thée. Then hée said to Parismenos: Sir Knight, I pray cease this discontent, and goe to my Castle, for so well do I estéeme of you, and so farre am I from the least suppose of any such thought, as my selfe will vndertake his accusation is false. So they departed togither, Parismenos by the way, so wel as he could declared his birth, which made Amasenus make greater estimation of him, for by all tokens he thought he should be sprung of kingly race, that Amasenus entertained him most honoura­bly and kindely, and welcommed him in the best sort hée could deuise, which mad him disdained amongst many of the knights that atten­ded the Duke, and séeing him so highly estéemed, began to suspect by that meanes, that they were but slightly accounted of by Amasenus, that euer after that, they beganne to enuie him, and to consult which way to do them a mischiefe: thinking Corus quarrell alreadie begun, a fit occasion to further their intent, they vrged him to prosecute the same, who being ready of himselfe, and the rather by their instigatiō, sent him this challenge.

Parismenos hauing read this braue challenge, smiling thereat, sent this reply.

Corus hauing receiued this reply, presently went and armed him­selfe, and came to the appointed place, where hée found the Knight of Fame gallantly mounted, staying for him, whom he little estéemed, as that he assured himselfe the conquest before he begunne: for Paris­mons was young and of tender yeares, and nothing comparable to him in growth nor skill, notwithstanding, of such vndaunted resolue, that he would not haue refused to cope with him, had he bene another Hercules. Corus séeing him in that readinesse, came to him vttering these spéeches: Knight, I like well thy forwardnesse, and commend thy resolution, but by that time thou departest hence, thou wilt re­pent thy folly.

Parismenos thus answered, If I repent mée, the worst will be mine, but if I ayme not amisse, thy folly wil be the greatest: for know, that I so lightly estéeme thy spéeches, that I account them ridiculous, and this time spent in prate too tedious. With that Corus went back, and Parismenos retired himselfe to take their carrier, which was per­formed so gallantly, as y^t they shiuered their lances, passing by with­out any other harme, presētly drawing their kéene swords, beginning fight with gallant brauerie, sometimes offending and sometimes de­fending, which continued so long, vntill their armour began to yéeld to their fierce blowes, and the blood to issue out at many places. In which cruell rage they cōtinued for an houres space, without any dis­aduantage on either partie, sometimes taking breath, and thē againe redoubled their blowes with fresh courage, that Corus fretting at his enemies valour, and calling to minde his former spéeches, strooke so mightie a blow at him, that with the force thereof, he made him stag­ger, which turned Parismenos sences into such a furie, that aduācing himselfe in his stirropes, he strooke Corus so full and so valiantly on y^e Crest, y^t he was astonisht therwith: yet notwithstanding, with quick corage soon recouered his memorie again prosecuting his blows with great fortitude, vntill that both their armours & stéeds beganne to be [Page] coloured with the purple blood that issued from their [...]ds: hoth of them waring saint, yet neither willing to yéeld. Sometimes the one dryuing his enemy to retyre, and he againe returning with new cou­rage. But Parismenos being the nimbler of body, warded many of Corus blowes, and in the end wounded him so sore, that he beganne to stagger too and froe, to saue himselfe from his surie, who stil pursued him with such violence, that Corus with faintnesse sell on his horse necke: which he espying, was lif [...]ing his swoord to fetch a fresh blew to ende his life, but that he heard one calling him to s [...]y, and looking backe, saw that it was Amasenus: who missing him, being told that he departed from the Castle in Armour, followed him to y^t place and had all that while stayed couertly and beheld the combat, and seeing the daunger Corus was in, desired Parismenos to spare his life, who according to his request desisted. Amasenus then caused the Knights to take vp Corus fallen from his horse in a trance, who receiuing fresh ayre, came to himselfe againe: but when he saw the Duke present, and his enemie still mounted and in good estate, his heart was readie to burst with inward greefe, which malicious ran [...]kout filled vp all his sences, that cursing himselfe and his ill fortune, he y [...]lded vp his fain­ting [...]host. Farewell (quoth Amasenus) the most proud and discour­teous Knight that euer liued in Thrace, thy insolence and malicious discontented enuy, hath wrought thine owne downe-fall. And most noble Knight (quoth he) to Parismenos, I both honour your valour, and applaude your [...]ie, wherein you haue behaued your selfe so valiantly, as I shall for euer loue you: and since you e [...]maine victor, I pray returne with m [...] to haue your wounds cured. Parismenos humbly thanking himdeparted: and the rest of Amasenus Knightes tooke vp Corus bodie, which afterwards they buried with great so­lemnitie. After Corus death, y^e Knights that enuied Parismenos, now beganne to imagine assuredly, that the Knight would darken all their glories, and the more account they saw they made of him, the more their malicious enuy encreased, that they deuised al the meanes they [...]ould to contriue his death, whatsoeuer ensued thereon, waiting al op­portunites. But hée hauing his wounds fully cured, forsooke his chamber & betook himself again to his wonted excercises, which was sometimes to mannage the sturdie stéede, and somtimes to sport him­selfe (in companie of his vnknowne enemies) amongst the Ladies and Gentlewomen, who liked his behauiour and courtesie so well, besides his comely proportiō, the sweet youth so greatly pleased their [Page] fancies, that they accounted the Thracian Knights rude in respect of him, al both liking, louing, and commending him, and that so openly, that his enemies might heare their speeches, which wrought such a violent effect of ra [...]or, that no thought could harbour [...] their brests, but tragicall deuises to worke his downefall. One amongst the rest, neare kinsman to Corus, named Argalus, was forwardest in this ex­ployt, who to fureher his intent with one Themides, dissembling a friendly countenance, insinuated themselues into his familiaritie, vsing such kind behauiour towards him, and entertaing his rompa­ny with such curtesie, that he hauing no insight into their dissembu­lation) beganne to make account of their frienship, and to take delight in their company, oftentimes imparting his secrets vnto them, and without suspition making them priuie to most of his actions.

Argalus vpon a time came to Parismenos, telling him that a squir [...] of his had found a mightie wild Bore, & could bring them to his den, desiring his company to go with them to hunt him Parismenos hea­ring that, was as forward as any of them, and the next morning ap­pointed to méete them in the midst of the Forrest, at the Pooles side. And early the next morning he got vp, according to his appointment, being readie to depart his chamber, some fiue or sixe droppes of blood suddainely fell from his nose, with which hée started, and staying felt a suddaine drowsie heauinesse and throbbing, possesse his heart, which draue him into a déepe studie what should be the cause of that vnwon­ted passiōi: at last he begā to thinke with himselfe, May not these few [...] drops of blood diuine some bad successe to my enterprise this day? I am herein a strange Country, amongst such as I know not how to trust, for I see apparantly many of thē do enuy me, which they manifest by their low [...]ng countenance, and Corus behauiour may be a patterne of their dispositions: therfore I were best not to go at all. Then again he began to thinke, Argalus and Themides are my friends, then what néede I feare any mishap? All which doubts would not stay him, but arming himselfe, and resoluing to endure al mischaunces, he departed towards the Pole. By the way as he rode, he met a damzell posting towards him w^t great spéed, wringing her hands, dan making great lamentation. Parismenos marueling at her sorrow, asked the cause of her cōplant. Sir Knight (quoth she) I was going to Duke Amasenus court, carrying a present, & a letter from my mistresse, vnto a strange knight y^t lately arriued there: but by y^e way, I met with two knights [Page] in gréene Armour, who dispoyled me thereof and most disloyallie offe­red to abuse me, had [...] not fled. Damzel (quoh he) bring me if you can where they are, and I will do my best to cause them make you restitu­tion. Wherewith the damzel turned her horse, and rode barke againe. Sir Knigh (quoth he) they tooke downe this narrow Lane. Parisme­nos set spures to his horse, and with great spéed to [...]e that way, he was not farentred, but he espied y^e two knights in gréene Armour, readie mounted, staying in a pleasāt valley, encompassed round with woods, vnto whom he was said: It is the manner of you Thracians, to offer violence to silly Damzels? Render me those things you haue takē frō he, or I protest I will not leaue you, vntill I haue compeld you to do it by force. Unto whom one of them replied, If thy selfe art no Thraciā, what doest thou here? or what intrest hast thou in that Damzel quar­rell, that maketh thée so bold to cōtroule onr doings? That interest I haue (quoth he) as al knights should haue, which is to succor distressed Damzels: wherewith turned back to take scope for his race, he ran at one of them, and at the encounter, ouerthrew him backwards, who by mischance in the fall brake one of his armes. The other séeing his fel­lowes mischaunce, assailed Parismenos with his sword drawn: whom Parismenos so ouerlaid with fierce blowes, & wounded so gréeuously that he fearing his death, and séeing no other come to his rescue, was readie to yéelde. Euen at y^t instant another knight came, who séeing one of them dead, and y^e other in great danger, ranne at Parismenos, with intent vnawares to pierce his speare, through his body: But he hearing the noise of his horse foote behind him, nimbly spurd his horse forward, by which meanes the knight lost his course, passing by with­out doing any harme. Parismenos looking about him, and espying two enemies more, and missing the Damzel that had brought him thither, began to misdoubt some treachery: which thoughts & the remembra­nce of the drops of blood y^t fel from him that morning, added new cou­rage to his valor, that reaching a furious blow at y^e wounded knight, the sword lighting on a brokē place in the armor, rusht into his body, and ended his life. By which time the too knights lately come, assailed him both at once, betwéene whom began a most cruel and dangerous fight, that al the earth was coloured with y^e blood that issued from their wounds: and notwithstāding Parismenos was before sore wounded, yet he defended himselfe so couragiously, that his new come enemies could not indanger him, but w^t their owne disaduantage, who seeing [Page] his valour, & calling to mind Corus death, forsooke knightly chi [...] and vsed al villainous & cowardly fight, the one somtimes beh [...] offering him a thrust, & when he turned to reueng that in [...] [...] the other did the like, that he perceiued they intended to mur [...] [...] which so inraged that gallāt knight, y^t dashing his spurs into [...] [...] ­stie steeds sides, he rusht with such violence against one of thē, that he bare him quite out of the saddle, whose foote will hung in his stirrop, & his horse draged him w^t violence vp & down the field, vntil the stirrop burst, & he lay dead & dismounted. The other knight séeing his friends misfortune, wold haue fled, but Parismenos strook such a violent blow vpon his head, that he lost his sences, but soone recouering himselfe a­gain, & thinking it better to dye by his enemies sword, then to yéeld to his mercy, turned to Parismenos, vttering these speeches. Knight if thou art wel giue ouer, otherwise know, y^t notwithstāding my former shew of fight, it is y^e least part of my thought: but I in [...]ēd to try it out with thée to the vttermost. quoth he agine, no disembling Thracian, account not me so base minded to leaue such a villaine to breathe any longer, that art not worthy of knighthood, much lesse to be estéemed a­mongst men: was it thy pollicie by subtiliie to betray my life? If I be not deceiued, I knowethée by thy voice, and thy name is Argalus, my counterfaited friend. Am I the Boare thou intendest to slaie? No traytor Thracian, doo not thinke mee so simple. but I perceiue the treacherie, and well vndestand thy drifts, nor do thou thinke to escape my hands. This Knight indeede was Argalus, who hearing his words, was so ouercom with rage, that marking where his Armour, was most broken, he gaue him such a violent thrust, that the purple blood followed his kéene sword: which wounde was more deadly then all that he had before receiued, that bending all his forces to reuenge the same, hée smote so fiercely and nimbly at Argalus, that in the ende with many grieuous woundes, hee beate him from his horse, and lighting, puld off his helmet and knew him: with that he said, Arga­lus, what offence haue I done thée, that thou shuldest seek my death? or wherein did I euer merit other then friendship at thy hands? most vnkind dissembler, thou shalt receiue a fit reward for thy vilāy, wher­with, [...]ling y^e smart of the wound he had lately giuē him oppresse his heart, he thrust his sword into his body, which ended his life, and sate downe weary with trauell, and so saint with effectiō of blood, that his eyes began to dazle, and he fell downe vpon the earth, as one bereft of sense.

[Page] Amasenus all that day missing the Knight of Fame, beganne to sus­ [...] [...]at some other challenge had caused him to depart so secretly, but [...]ing that Argalus and Themides were in his companie, whom he thought loued him dearly, his care was somwhat diminished, but whē it grew towards night, and none of them yet returned, he then began vehemently to feare the worst, that calling for his steede, he presently rode forth wel accompanied, commaunding one to post this way, and another that way, about the Forrest to seeke y^e Knight of Fame, him­selfe rode which way his fancie best perswaded him vnto, & by chance (directed by good fortune) he tooke directly towards the place where the Combat was fought, and as he passed by the narrow Lane that went downe the [...]e, he espied one of the steedes all bestained with blood, wandring without his Rider, which strooke a suddain feare to his hart, that ryding downe y^e Lane, he espied y^e dead bodies of mangled knights, lie confusedly scattered vpon y^e earth, with [...]astly countēan­ces, being y^e fearfullest spectacle that euer eye beheld. The [...]rst that he beheld was Themides, almost torne to péeces by his owne stéede, with his foote still in the stirrope. Next he vewed the other two knights so gréeuously mangled and wounded, that the teares with griefe gusht from his eyes in abundance. Next he came to Argalus, whose face was vncouered, whom he soone knewe. And last of all, he come to Pa­rismenos, who lay groue [...]ng with his face to y^e earth, stil grasping his bloodie sword in his hand, whom he perceiued to gaspe for breath, that in al haste lifting vp his Beuer so giue him fresh ayre, he knew him to be the Knight of Fame, & perceiuing some life yet to remaine in him, he vnarmed him with his own hands, & gently wrapt him vp close, that his woundes might not take aire, causing him to be carried to his Castle. The rest of the dead knights hée likewise caused to be car­ried backe, which was done with great lamentations, and afterwards by his appointment were honourably buried.

CHAP. IIII.

THe Bohemian knights, by commaundement of Parismus, & the Thessaliā knights, for the affectiō they [...] to Violetta hauing [Page] Posted through euery parte of Bohemia, and made all diligent search, leauing no place [...]sought, no means vnattempted, nor labour vnper­formed to [...]e her: Yet notwithstanding all their faithfull diligence, at last returned without any Newes of her at all: which [...] Polli­pus sorrows afresh, that but euen then has entertained a little quiet, by Parismus perswasions. But when he saw Violetta was by no meanes to be hearde of, nor any likelyhood or comfort left for him euer to see her againe: Neyther knowing nor any way supposing what should be be­come of her, his heart was so inwardly ouercome with troublesome ro­gitations and doubtfull cares, that he could neither resolue to seeke her, nor take any course to ease his minde: but rested like one vtterly giuen ouer, to forlorne and carelesse miserie, daily frequenting those solitarie walkes where he last her, and hourely renuing his sorrowes, by the sad remembrance of her absence, vttering such mournefull plaintes and lamentations, that the Byrds that haunted those vnfrequented places seemed to mourne and lament with him.

Sometimes accusing himselfe of negligence, to leaue her, to pursue the Beare, blaming her that would not stay his return: and then again fretting his heart for accusing her. Sometimes thinking she was dead, and then againe, perswading himselfe she was aliue, then musing why shee did not returne to him, if shee were aliue: that by contrarieties of doubts, he could adde no ease to his cares, nor rest to his heart. At last he determined to search throughout all Germanie and Greece, but he would finde her: For hee assuredly thought shee was not deade, being thereto induced, for that he could not finde any likelyhood thereof, being perswaded by Parismus, that some discourteous Knight had met with her, and so witheld her returne: that within fewe dayes (Arming him­selfe in a greene armour, which he made of purpose, bearing this deuice; A Knight pursuing a wilde Beare) hee left the Bohemian Court, making none priuy to his departure but Parismus, who determined not to stay long behinde him:) Whom we will leaue onwards of his iourney, and speake of Violetta, whom we left weake in Archas Castle.

Assoone as the 2. Gentlewomen had conuayed her to her Bed, wich the comfortable meanes they vsed, shee began to be somewhat reuiued, and calling her Sences to theyr woonted vses, began to make such dole­full lamentations, that no hart was able to indure to heare them, with­out effusion of teares: oftentimes offering to doe her selfe violence, but [Page] that shee was hindred by the 2. Gentlewomen: especially one of them named Sorana, was so carefull ouer her, that shee left not so much as a Pinne about her, where with she might doe her selfe harme: but when some three dayes were past, and the extremitie of her desperate Passion somewhat calmed, she began to desire that Archas would conuey her to the Bohemian Court; if not to finde Pollipus, yet to enioy the comfor­table presence of parismuss and Laurana; but notwithstanding her ma­nifold intreaties, they vsed some excuse or other, to frustrate her expec­tation, telling her that it was dangerous for her to Trauell yet, by rea­son of her late sicknesse, and that since it was certaine Pollipus was no more to be enioyed, she might stay with them some few dayes, vntill she were better able to endure so long a Iourney: For that the Bohemian Court was not so neare as she thought. Which excuses, rather increa­sed her desire, and the more shee seemed desirous to goe thither, still the more they defrauded her by excuses many dayes.

In which time, she being indued with an extraordinary Wisedom, hauing well weyghed eache circumstance of her bringing thither, and their friuolous excuses to detaine her there: and withall, noting theyr behauiours and spéeches, beganne to suspect Archas dissimulation: To finde out the truth therof, she began (contrary to her inward thoughts) to frame a cheerfuller countenance, and comfortable disposition, there­ [...]y to féele theyr intents, which wrought such effect, that within a while Archas would often frequent her companie, and in the ende proffered Loue to her, vsing her most kindely, carefully, and tenderly, seeming a­boue all things to regard her quiet and content, whose spéeches shee en­dured quietly, and tooke in good part (as he thought) that vpon a time, amongst many spéeches, taking her by the hand, he saide:

Most Beautifull Ladie, I haue euer since the first viewe of those excellent Beauties, bene tormented with the Passions of entire Loue, so that I could take no quiet, but in the sweete remembrance of your Perfections, which haue bound my Deuotions to your seruire, in such a kinde of firme and constant League, that my onely resolution is, to sp [...]nde my life (if it were a thousand times dearer to mee then it is) to procure your content: Therefore, thus boldely I presume to reueale my Affections, trusting your Clemencie will adde some ease vnto my carefull heart, by shewing some courteous signe of your fauourable ac­ceptance of my humble Suite: and though my merite hath no way de­serued such fauour, yet let mee beseech you to make triall of my loyaltie, [Page] and you shall finde I will be inferiour to none in good will, nor violate my Protested-loyaltie in any vndutifull respect.

I haue the boldlyer presumed to detaine you here, because with your absence my life would depart: Then construe not amisse that true loue and sincere Affection, which hath caused me to offend in, but no offence at all, if you vouchfafe not to take it so: Here shall you enioy your fill of content, in as ample sort, as any other place can yéelde: Then I be­seeche you graunt some ease to my troubled heart, and by your clemen­cie release me of those cares that possesse my Breast, onely procured by the piercing dart of your sacred Beautie. Which words being ended, he offered to haue kist her, but shee gently refusing the same, made this replie.

Syr Knight, my Sorrowes will not suffer mee to belieue your spée­ches, nor my late losse, permit mee to entertaine your Loue: For then might you estéeme me light, and so lightly wonne, as little regard mee: but to put you out of suspence, my resolution is, neuer to loue anie, but my deare Pollipus; wherewith the Cristall teares with a violent pas­sage, fell from her griefeswolne Eye-balls.

That griefe (quothee) is remedilesse: Therefore banish the sadde remembrance thereof from your heart, and entertaine a perswasion of my Constancie, and true Affection, which euerlastingly remaine inuio­lable, without intermission.

How can I (quoth shee) in Conscience, and without euerlasting staine to wine Honour, when I haue neither performed his Funerall, nor shewed any token of dutie to his deade Cerps, who loued mee most deerely in his life time. But shew mee this fauour, as to let mee but returne to the Courte to bewaile his death, and a while enioy my deere Frendes companie: and I promise and protest next pollipus, to loue but your selfe.

Archas hearing her make such an indifferent and reasonable de­maund, stood like one amazed, as not knowing what sudden Answer to make her: Thinking that if hee should denye her that Request be­ing so small, shee might thinke his Loue to be but slender; And if hee should promise her, and not performe, that might be a meanes to bréede a further suspition in her, that all his reporte to her were false: So that hee stoode musing a great while, confounded in his thoughtes, what to deuise for a ready Answere.

[Page] Nay, studie not so for that (quoth Violetta) but answere me another [...]e, Which said she withdrue herselfe vnto her Chamber, where she [...]egan to meditate of his speeches, and how he was astonisht, when she [...]equested him to conuey her to the Court: Which draue her into ma­ [...]y cogitations; When presently one of the gentlewomen came to her, Whom she vsed most kindely, and of purpose to feele her minde, grewe into familiar conference with her: And amongst many other spéeches (qd. she) I pray tell mee what Archas hath reported vnto you, concer­ning Pollipus, for he seemeth vnwilling to vtte [...] his minde vnto m [...]. He told me nothing (qd. she.) Which words came from her with such [...]ut­tering and change of countenance, that Violetta began to suspect, that Archas had all this while disse [...]led with her, and that pollipus, (con­trary to his report) was yet liuing. And when [...]orana came, shee like­wise felt her minde: of whom she gathered some probability. And like­wise when she next came into Archas company, she asked him so manie Questions, that shee found many contra [...]eries in his sp [...]ches, which setled such a perswasiue opinion in her minde, that Archas e [...]orte of Pollipus was vntrue, that shee rested greatly comforted that way, but yet in great care, cog [...]ating what he would suppose was become of her: How she should get out of that place, or giue him knowledge of her be­ing there, and auoyde Archas odious Loue, which séemed as deadly to her heart, as infectious Uenome.

Archas still prosecuted his sute with great earnestnesse, making ma­ny friuolous excuses to withhold her from the Bohemian Court, grow­ing into such bold [...]es, that oftentimes when she refused his offered em­bracings and impudent behauiors, he would by force kisse her, and fold her in his armes, which rudenesse, he so often vsed, that she began so ex­treamly to abhorre him, that his sight was odious vnto her.

Oftentimes Vloletta did walke into a pleasant Orchard adioyning to the Castle, as well to recreate her dulled Sences in those pleasaunt Sh [...]des, as in solitarinesse to recount her m [...]eries, and ease her carefull heart, by inuenting meanes howe to ridde her [...]e from that Laby­rinth of sorrow, and also to auoyd Archas odious sight, who inwardly [...]usted to sat [...]sfie his inordinate appetit, by obtaining the fruition of her delicate bodie, and though he knew pollipus were liuing, and heard the mones and sorrowfull complaints Violetta m [...]de, able to exte [...]ate a­ny tirannous disposition, yet he persisted in his diuelish resolution, with such impudencie, that neither regarding har complaints, nor the lawes [Page] of Nature, hee still sought all disloyall opportunities to dishonour her. And on a time, marking when she went into the Orchard, as shee was [...], in middest of her silent cogitations, hee c [...]me to the place wher [...] she sa [...]e, (whose heart began to pant with a kinde of feare, when she be­helde him) and comming vnto her, seating himselfe closr by her sweete side, he vttered these spéeches.

You know deare Ladie, how long I haue sued to obtaine your loue, being thereto compelled by the extremities of Loues euerlasting [...]ame, which boyleth in my troubled Brest, but hitherto you haue obdurated your heart against mee, and not vouchsafed to yeeld any pittie to my di­stresse, but contrary to the kinde nature that shuld abound in you, séeme not at all to regard my Passions, which hath added sorrowe to my tor­ment. Now swéet Lady, seeing with what deuotions I haue attended your pleasure, deferre me no longer, but let me obtain that fauor, which with such care I haue expected, and you so vnkindely withheld: which would both ease my comfortlesse hart, and adde no small content to the remedilesse sorrowes you so impatiently endure.

Violetta hearing his speeches, made this replie. Syr, I haue long since told you my resolution, which might be a sufficient answer to any rea­sonable crdature: besides, my vows passed to my déer Knight pollipus, haue bound mee from yéelding my spotlesse Honour to be stained with the blot of infamy. Then I pray leaue off to prosecute your sute, which you ground vpon loues foundation, being indeed, nothing but the in [...] ­tiable desire of filthy concupiscence: the remembrance whereof, addeth new care to my carefull heart, and euery way affrighteth mee with dis­content: and if you so much regard my content, as you protest, desist to trouble mee with your Loue, and giue mee leaue to depart from hence, that I may spend the rest of my dayes in sorrow, for his losse, that was more dearer vnto me, then all the worlds treasure.

I but Lady (qd, Archas) calme this discontent with remembrance of an impossibilitie in obtaining ought at his hands, and goe not [...] t [...] consume those heauenly perfections with sorrow, & seeme not [...] then reason requireth, to him that loueth you as well as Pollipus [...] did: And now that occasion hath so [...]tly offered the sweete opportuni­tie of time and place, let vs spend this time in loue, and not in these [...]n­tentions: these vnfrequented paths adde meanes to further our ioyes: Here are no eyes to behold vs, nor any to bewray our secrets, but the [...] ­lent tr [...]s & sweet smelling flowers: and that which is vnknown, is in a [Page] manner vncommitted: and in requitall of your kindenesse, I will per­forme whatsoeuer you shal command me, were it to run through thou­sands of deaths; to procure your content: then sweet loue be not so vn­kinde, but yéeld some pitty to my restles cares, and detaine not from me that pleasant delight, which will extinguish my bitter griefs. When he had ended his spéeches, he stricctly caught her tender body in his arms, imprinting a compelled kisse vpon her tender lippes, twining her curled locks about his grosse fingers, and boldly fingring her tender brests, of­fering other forced behauiour: whilst she striued to vntwine her body of his armes, which when shee had obtained, casting a disdainfull counte­nance vpon him (like as Diana cast vpon the wofull Acteon,) with her chéekes as red as scarlet, she vttered these speeches.

Most discourteous villaine, hath my lenity inforced thée to offerime this abuse: or is thy minde so far from pietie, as not to desist from pro­secuting thy detested Lust? Knowe this, that rather then I will yéelde my honour to be blemished by thy appetite, I wil teare these eyes from foorth my head, and ende my wofull life, which thou soughtest to spill. Is this the friendship thou hast protested? Was it thy pollicy to traine me hither to dishonor me? Hadst thou left me in the place where I lost my beloued, then had I bene happie, if some wilde beast had ended my life. I now perceiue thy Protestations are but filthy actors of thy in­tended villanie, and all which thou hast told me of Pollipus death, to be most false and vntrue: for no doubt, he is yet liuing, whom thou seekest to dishonour, by spoyling mee of that which I reserued for him. Accur­sed wretch that I was, to fall into thy odious hands which art voyd of Knightly behauiour.

Archas hearing himselfe thus reuiled, abandoned shame and pit­ty, violently pulling her to him: told her, that she shuld submit her selfe to his will, offering by force to attaine the fruition of her spotlesse body. When Violetta felt her selfe so handled, shee laboured by all meanes to disappoint him of his will: but in the ende, séeling her selfe too weake, long to withhold his force, she yéelded foorth such shrikes, as all the Ca­stle roong with the noyse of her outerye: that Sorana hearing the same, knowing the place where she vsed, came thitherwards. Archas behol­ding her, withdrue himself, and Violetta rose from the place, tyred with resistance, and swolne with inward veration, and disdain to be so vsed, casting her countenance downe to the earth: To whome Sorana said, How now Lady, What causeth your sorrow? Hath Archas offered you [Page] violence? Violetta with teares trickling downe her crimzen chéekes, answered: yea, that villaine. Archas would haue done me violence, had not you so Fortunately come to my rescue: But I thinke the Diuine prouidence, hath sent you hither so happily to preserue me from his de­uouring lust, whose dishonorable minde is fraught with all villanies: accursed be the day that first brought mee to this hatefull place, to fall into his loathsome power, that contrary to Nature, hath done mee this outrage. Swéete Sorana (quoth she) conuey mee secretly into the Ca­stle, that there I may in sorrow end my accursed life, rather then again abide his loathsome sight, which will be as pestilent as deadly Poyson to my heart. Sorana taking her by the arme to support her weake bo­die, led her to her Chamber. Archas likewise seeing himselfe so frustra­ted of his desire, with an impudent and vnshamefaste Countenance, went into the Castle, vowing in his heart neuer to desist vntill he had accomplished his desire.

Violetta, being come to her Chamber, related to Sorana the whole manner of Archas vsage, intreating her counsell, which way to auoyde his sutes, which shee knew hee would still prosecute: who vttered her minde in this sort. Lady I pitty your estate, but I am so farre from ad­ding release thereto, as I know no meanes at all how to comfort you: For Archas disposition I too well know, is farre from any spark of ho­nesty, who hath in iike sort behaued himself to me at my first comming hither, which was in the Prime of my youth: neither giue any credite to his reports: for he hath told me that Pollipus is yet liuing, and long since I suspected hee would vse you in this sorte, and escape from hence you cannot: For this Castle is continually guarded, hauing but one entrance therto, whereby none can escape vndescried; therefore I think it best for you to yeeld to his loue, and then you may liue in quiet: o­therwise I know your life will be miserable enough.

Violetta was striken into a sudden amazement to heare her detested counsell, thinking to haue found some comfort in her spéeches: In so­much, that with extremitie of Passions, shee was readie to giue vp the ghost. Which Sorana beholding, reuiuing her with rubbing her pale chéekes, she said as followeth.

If you will followe my aduise and counsell, I may peraduenture ease you in some respect; Which is this, That the next time when Ar­chas coms againe to sollicite his sute, condiscend to his request, condi­tionally, that hee will come to you in the silent of the Night, so secretly [Page] hat none may knowe thereof, and that onely hee satisfie himselfe with your Loue without asking questions, or entring into any talke, which may renue the remembrance of your former griefe: and when w^t these conditions you haue agreed, my self will supplie your roome, and there­by safegard your Honour, and satisfie him: which may well be perfor­med, considering that his desire being nothing but Lust, he easily will be drawn to condescend to your conditions: which once done, let me alone to execute the rest: for I am so well acqnainted with his fashions, that it shalbe long before he descrie our deceit.

Violetta hearing the circumstance of her Talke, promised to doe all things according to her counsell, if shee herselfe meant faithfullie. Which Sorana assured her of, by many Protestations, and so left her in some comfort, hoping by this meanes to bee ridde from her Impu­dent Louer.

Assoone as Sorana was departed, she presently goeth to Archas, (pric­ked forward with as great a sting of foule Lust, as raigned in him) and told him, that shée had talked with Violetta about his sute, which shee was perswaded she would yeeld vnto, but that shee was bashfull: and by his speeches, rather hardned, then any way mollified: but (qd. shee) Trie her euen now, and whatsoeuer shee bindeth you vnto by conditi­on, that promise you to performe: and when you know her minde, tell mee what shee sayes, and I may peraduenture counsell you what to do for your furtherance: for she is worthy to be beloued, and kindely v­sed, and in my Iudgement, you did amisse, to vse her so rudely as you did in the Orchard; For forced kindenesse is not worth estimation, but consent in Loue breedes the sweetest delight.

Archas presently put her counsell in practise, and came to Violettaes chamber (who was then studying how to rid her selfe from his custody) and very kindly saluted her, crauing pardon for his last offence, excusing himself by many reasons, and alledging as many perswasions, that she could not in reason denie his request: his Loue being grounded vppon the truest foundation of perfect constancie, of Uowes, Oaths, and Pro­testations, to dedicate himselfe, his life, and all that hee had to be at her command. Violetta (casting down her eyes to the earth, and w^t a blu­shing countenance, to think how much it went against her heart, to vse him kindly: asking pardon of Pollipus, in her secret thoughts, for dooing him that vnwilling wrong) at last made answer, that she could in some sort be contented to grant his request, if he would promise to performe [Page] what she should inioine him too, which he vowed and protested to fulfil in euery respect. Then she concluded with him as Sorana had counsel­led her to do, which liked him excéedingly well, & quoth she, for a pledge hereof, giue me that ring which you so much estéem, which he gaue vn­to ber, and at his departure receiusd from her a gentle kisse, which she wisht might proue as deadly poyson to his heart, being greatly discon­tented with her selfe for shewing him that fauour.

Archas presently with a ioyfull heart went to Sorana: and tolde her all that had passed betwixt him and Violetta: which she willed him in any wise to performe: and séeing shée hath bound you from talke, what néede you care for speaking, sith you may enioy what otherwise you desire: and she finding you so willing to condiscend to her requests, will bée the easiler drawne to yéelde you any courtesie. Sorana being parted from him, imediately came to Violetta, and tolde her all that he had made her priuie vnto, and withall saide, that for her sake onely she vndertook that taske, (which was nothing so, but of a most inor­dinate desire to beastly lust, which Violetta well noted:) and thus they spent the day in much idle talke, vntill euening drawing nigh, shée left Violetta in her chamber, and went vnto that swéete bedde, which she had neately drest for Archas, perfuming her selfe with many odori­ferous waters, deuising all meanes she could to kéep her selfe vnknown from him, being affected with great desire for his approach. Assoone as the appointed time was come, Archas secretly conueyed himselfe in the darke, into Violettas chamber, without speaking a word, whom when Sorana heard rus [...]ing vppon the rushes, her heart leapt for ioy: and the prepared her selfe to entertaine him in the kindest sort, who approaching the beds side, softly lifting vp the cloathes, laide himselfe downe by her side, who séemed to shrike there at, and with such cun­ning behaued her selfe, that he no whit supposed he embraced his woon­thed Sorana.

Violetta being sure of Archas, with all hast attired herselfe in Soranas apparell, which so well became her, that had Archas him­selfe séene her, he would not haue discerned her disguise, & taking with her the ring he had giuen her, she came to the Gardiants, telling thē she must goe out about a little businesse for Archas, and gaue them the ring as her warrant to passe by. The Gardiants maruelled whither she went so late, yet taking her for on other then Sorana, accepting her warrant, let her depart. Violetta being past the entrance, beganne to [Page] studie which way to talke, but knowing that the time now yéelded no respite to delaye, tooke any way came into her fancie, fittest as shée thought for her escape, and with all hast, arming her selfe with as much courage as could possible be in a woman, forsaking the mountaines, which she thought daungerous for wilde beastes, she trauelled al that night, sometimes running, and sometimes going, as if Archas had bin hard at hand pursuing her, and by that time Phoebus beganne to illu­minate the earth with his brightnesse, she was gotten a great way from Archas Castle, towards Greece, reioycing at her happyescape, not ca­ring which way she went, so she might get from him: and applauding Soranas counsell, which had sorted to that vnexpected issue for her es­cape.

CHAP. VI.

AFter that Pollipus was departed from Parismus, he came to the place where hee left Violetta, and there vttered these spéeches. This is that blessed place where my Loue lay last foulded in mine armes, whose presence was the sollace of my sweete content, whose perfections exceld the rarest gifts of other Ladies, as farre as good doth bad, or any vertue his contrarie: which way should I take to recouer that inestima­ble iewell of my delight héere lost? or whither should I trauell to finde her, considering I know not whether she be dead or aliue?

Dead I am perswaded shée is not, but by some discourteous knight with held from returning, or conueyed far hence vnto some vnknowne place, frō whence she cannot send me word, or any way giue me know­ledge in that estate she remaineth: then what resteth for me to do, but to search the world throughout to find her, and either to recouer her to my comfort, or spend my life in that pursuite: and since I vndertake a trauell, without knowledge which way to take, or whither to conuey my steppes, sweet Fortune be so fauourable, as to guide me in my tra­uels, [Page] that by thy ayde I may come to the place of her abode, and at­taine the fruition of her heauenly presence, who by thy appointment hath fallen into these mischances: and I will for euer dedicate my in­deuours to thy seruice, and continually adore thy name. Which words being ended, hee mounted himselfe on his steede, and rode the way his fancie first chose, trauelling towards the mountaines that incompasse Bohemia, but not finding her, being vnacquainted in those countries, wandred towards Grecia, and trauailed without any more hope to find her, then at the beginning, continuing his trauels without intermissi­on, passing many places without any misaduenture. At last he came to the great Forrest of Ardea, wherein stoode the Castle of the mighty Gyant Brandamor, the place being inuincible, by reason of the scitua­tion and strength, whose cruelties committed by him and his brother Argaletus, made him much feared, and his walkes eschued of all men.

Which Forrest Pollipus was no sooner enterd, but hée espied the bodie of a goodly Knight, that had lately giuen vp his ghost, lye weltred in his blood, which when he had wel viewed, and perceiued to be quite past recouerie, hee maruailed what sad aduenture had bene cause of his death, perswading himselfe, that those that had done the same were not farre off, that he withdrew himselfe into a thicket of bushes, where he could not be discerned, to stay vntill hee might descrie those that had done that déed.

Hée had not bene long shrowded there, but hée sawe a damzell and a squire comming to the dead knight, with great lamentations, bewai­ling his vntimely death, seeming by their behauiour to be quite ouer­come with extreame miserie.

After their lamentations ended, they hasted to take vp the dead Knight, to whome Pollipus came and demaunded what Knight that was, and what misaduenture had brought him to that vntimely death. The damzel casting her eyes vp to him, which before were sadly fixed, on the earth, said, Sir Knight, to discduer the whole circumstance of our mishap, would aske more respit then the time will now permit: because if we be surprised by our tariance, wée are like to be partners with him in death. This Knight was named Tyrides, sonne to the noble Duke Amasenus of Thrace, being brought vp in the Court of the renowned King of Libia: who being with the Princesse Venola, [Page] the kings onely daughter on hunting, in the middest of their pastime, she was seuered from the rest of her company, and being wet with fol­lowing the game, alighted in a pleasant valley to coole her selfe, and lay downe to the flowrie bankes of a swéete burbling brooke, where she had not long stayed, but she was surprised by a Gyant, who with rud e behauiour brought her a way: wherewith I being amazed, ranne backe to this worthie Knight Tyrides, who with me and this Page, pursued him vntill we came to this place, where this noble Knight charged him to deliuer the Lady to him, who lay panting with extreame feare of her life, vnder his guard: but the Gyant presently set vpon this Knight, and in long continuance of terrible fight, slewe him, by which time ma­ny of her damzels had found vs out, whom he with Venola, notwith­standing their earnest intreaties, conueyed to a Castle not farre hence, whether we secretly followed him, and are now returnec to carry backe this knight, with this heauy newes to to the King.

Do not so quoth Pollipus, but bring me to the Castle, and thou shalt soone sée I will set her at lebertie, or venter my life. Sir. (quoth she dam­zel) if I thought your trauel would sort to any good issue, I would con­duct you thither, but the Gyant is now within the Castle, & the night [...]éere approached, therefore we will depart with this dead knight, and if you please to goe thither, you may easilie finde it.

Pollipus seeing her so vnwilling, left her, and rode towardes the Castle, which he found fast shut, whereto was one passage by a bridge, ouer a mightie huge déepelake, the Castle it selfe being scituated vpon a loftie rocke, so well fenced by nature, and strengthned by the art of man, that it was vnconquerable, and not to be subdued by force: and comming to the bridge, he found the same drawn vp, by meanes wher­of, he thought it vaine to account of any thing that night, but contented himselfe to take the cold earth for his bed, and the large Forrest for his Chamber, where hée could take no rest, beeing troubled with many thoughts, hauing likewise some hope to [...]ude Violetta in that place, which added (though it were verie vnlikely) great courage to his reso­lution That viewing the inuincible strenght of the Castle, and well considering how he might disaduantage the Dyant if he could get him to single fight, in these and such like thoughts hée spent most part of the night, vntill at last he laid him downe, and gaue a little slumber to his eyes.

Early in the morning he buckled on his armour, and mounting his [Page] stéede, throwded himselfe vnder the shadow of an oake, not farre f [...] the Castle, where he might easilie see who went out and in thereat.

The first that came out that morning, was Argalt, mounted vpon a goodly Courser, and armed in very rich Armour, whom Pollipus thought had beene the Gyant that the Damzel had tolde him of, whom he thus greeted. Traitor, art thou the Gyant of this Castle, which hast stolne the Ladie Ven [...]la? Argall hearing his peremptorie demaund, made this answere. I haue the Lady Venola in my custody, whome I esteeme aboue all the world, but no traitor as thou termest mee. Yes, (quoth Pollipus) thou art a traitor, and worse then a villaine, that dis­loyally offerest outrage to resistlesse Ladies, that hast not so much va­lour, as to shew thy selfe before an armed Knight: but since my desti­nies haue allotted me to meete thee thus conueniently, I will abate thy pride, and correct thy tyrann [...]e, and make thee repent the out rages thou hast committed.

Argalt hearing his spéeches, was so enraged, that suddainly h [...] drew foorth his mightie Fawchion, and as suddainely strooke a violent blow therewith at Pollipus, which by the vnexpected approach, being vnresisted, glaunced on his thigh, and pierced the Armour, that the blood appeared.

Pollipus seeing how treacherously hée had smitten him, drew his sword and reuenged that blow, beginning a braue and faire combate, which continued for a good space, vntill they had giuen each other ma­ny veepe wounds. Argalt marueling at his enemies valour, beeing neuer before so roughly handled, laid on his blows with mightie force, but Pollipus sometime nimbly auoiding one, and eunningly warding another, kept himselfe from any great harme, and in the end tyred Ar­galt, who seeing that all his strength little auayled to his enemies dis­aduantage, and with all feeli [...]g himselfe almost wearied, beganne to a­bate his blows, which Pollipus perceiuing, gaue him so many blows, and withall such deepe wounds, that hee was in great daunger of his life: and turning his backe, fled towards the Castle, whome Pollipus persuing gaue so many wounds, that [...]e beganne to rore and crie ex­ceedingly, yell [...]g forth such a hideous noyse, that all the Castle rung therewith.

Brandamor hearing the same, presently hasted to his rescue, and lifting vp his mighty mace, v [...]wares strooke so forcibly therewith vp­on [Page] Pollipus Crest, that it made him to stagger, withall, saying: Why off [...]est thou this outrage to my brother? Pollipus séeing his mightie proportion, being somewhat dazeled with the blowe, retired a little backe, and being recouered, made this answere. I néede not tell thee wherefore, for that thy guiltie conscience repleat with vice, can bear witnesse of thy degenerate crueltie, offered to all that come within thy power, but especially to the faire Lady Venola, whome thou (or thy brother) haste brought to this Castle, whome I am come to redéeme.

Brandamor hearing his spéeches, most cowardly assailed him, being before almost wearied, and greeuously wounded: who notwithstan­ding resisted him so valiantly, that Brandamor in short time had recei­ued many greeuous wounds, yet staying himselfe, said. I pittie thy e­state, and therefore I wish thee to yéeld thy selfe, before I chastise thy boldnesse any further, for I see thou art already wounded, and vnable to withstand my strength: besides, I scorne to cope with one alreadie vanquished: then take my offer of mercie, or else I will soone giue that weake body of thine to be deuoured of wilde beastes. Uaine boasting monster (quoth Pollipus) know that I disdaine thy friendship, and disclame thy proffer, desiring rather to die by thy accursed hand, then yéeld to thy curtesie, therefore do thy worst.

Brandamor hearing this resolute reply, being inraged with coller, strooke at him most violently, but Pollipus auoiding his blowe, thrust at him, and wounded him so déepe, that the blood ranne down vpon his white stéede. Argalt séeing this Knight so valiantly withstand his brother▪ called forth a great sort of seruants in Armour, who rushing all at once vpon him, with their throng beate him from his horse, and carried him into the Castle, where hée was vnarmed, and for that night put into a close prison, hauing an olde woman to dresse his wounds.

Early the next morning, hée was brought into the Hall before Brandamor, who had Maiestically seated himselfe in a chaire, with [...]erie redde eyes swolue with rage, vttering these spéeches. Presump­tuous and ouerdaring Knight, what frenzie hath caused thée to commit this vnaduised folly, whereby thou hast incenst my wrath against thée, and brought thy selfe in daunger? Wherein haue I wronged thee, that thou shouldest offer to molest me?

Pollipus disdaining to be so perempterilie examined, made this re­ply. [Page] I li [...] not tell my name, because thou knowest me not, the cause of my comming hither, is in search of a Lady that I suppose thou vn­iustly detainest, making thy infamous name so ignominious by thy outrages, that both heauen and earth will shortly hate thee. Doest thou seeke a Ladie, (quoth he) come with me, and thou shalt see all the Ladies I haue.

Then he brought him into a goodly Hall, hung with auncient cloathes of Tapistrie, out of which he went into a most pleasant Galle­rie, furnished with al sorts of most beautifull pictures of excellent work­manship: from thence he came into a chamber of great largenesse, so rarely furnished, as Pollipus maruelled at the richnesse thereof: at the ende whereof, sate the most beautifull and faire Lady Venola, with her golden hayre hanging about her shoulders, her rich and costly or­naments all betorne, her crimzen cheekes sprinckled with olde dryed teares, and fresh droppes flowing from her pure eyes: heauily leaning her carefull head vpon a cushion, with her hands hanging downe fol­ded one in another, seemed so sadde and heauie a spectacle of a distressed Ladie, as neuer eye beheld: who feeling Brandamor and Pollipus com­ming toward her, lifted vp her head from the place where she rested it, and carelesly let the same fall on the heauie pillowe againe. Pollipus seeing her excceding beautie, and withall, noting her heauie estate, was strooken into a suddaine dump, that he stood like one in a studie. Bran­damor thinking that was the Ladie he came to redeeme said [...], Knight, if this be the Ladie thou seekest to release, thy labour is in vaine: for her, do I esteeme more then all the world: whose presence I so highly honour, that no force shall redeeme her from hence: whom I both loue and honour as much as thou and all the Knights, in the world besides: whose loue hath caused my languishing tormēts this long time, which now I purpose to inioy, to the extinguishing of my inward vexations: for her sake haue I indured much trauell, then do not thinke, that I will easily or willingly leaue her heauenly companie, but will approue and maintaine, that I am worthier of her loue then any Knight liuing: and since I haue my desire in attaining her custodie, I will likewise enioy her loue before she part hence.

Venola hearing his proude boasting, so much disdained thē, that she could not refraine from answering him, but rising from the ground where she sate, she vttered these speeches.

[Page] Impudent mis [...]reant why presumed thou so much of thy selfe, that art able [...]o performe nothing [...]? [...] thou my loue of so small estimation, as to be [...] [...]y thy [...] spee­ches? or any way [...]o [...] liking to thy [...]: No, I ac­cou [...] the b [...]est [...] in Libia, too good to bee thy [...], much lesse my se [...]se do so much [...]orne thee, tha [...] will [...] execute mine owne death, then [...] thee to [...] [...]e so much as with a touch: and thinkest thou, because thou [...] be [...]d this [...]e knight by treacherie, there are no other that will seeke my [...]? Yes [...] thou assured, that the violence thou hast offered mee, by bringing me hither against my will, one day will turne to be the occasion of thy cruell death. Thou foule detested v [...]aine, leaue off to vtter such bos [...]ng speeches in my presence, for nothing can bring more griefe to my heart, then thy ill pleasing sight.

Brandamor hearing her heavenly voyce sound forth such bitter [...]aunts against him, was exceedingly [...]aged therewith, but dissem­bling a pleasant countenance, hee departed with Pollipus, whom of­ter some speeches past betwixt them, hee commaunded to be conueyed to a hamber, from whence [...]e could as hardly get, as from the strongest prison in the world: who seeing that Violetta was not in the Castle, wisht he h [...] not attempted to haue come there, ut making a vertue of necessity, he indured such imprisonment as patiently as might be, thinking all misery nothing, beeing vnd [...]gone for Violettas sake. Where we w [...] leaue him, to speake of Parismus.

Parismus heart was opprest with such griefe, for the losse of the vertuous Violetta, and the ab [...]ence of his deare friend Pollipus, that day nor night he could neither by sleepe, or other recreation, giue any ease to his troubled head, therefore he determined likewise, to indure some trauell for their sakes, that b [...] suffered much miserie in his be­halfe: and when Laurana and hee were one night sweetly solacing themselues, each in the others pleasant loue, he tolde her his full in­tent, desiring her not te be discontented therewith, but to take his departure patiently

Laurana hearing his spéeches, was so ouercome with griefe, that a flood of teares distilled from her precious eyes, and twi [...]ing her tender armes about his necks, impressing a sweete kisse vpon his lips, shee vttered these speeches. Most noble Lord, are you wearie of my company, that you seeke to estraunge your selfe from mee by [Page] Trauell? do you thinke I shalbe able long to endure your absence? well knowing how many dangers may hazard your person, & detaine your heauenly presence from my sight? Thinke you that I can attaine an [...] quiet, without the fruition of your heauenly companie? or euer suffer steepe to seize vpon my eyes while you are absent? No sweet Lord, with your departure, all ioy and delight shall part from mee, and neuer will I suffer any content to harbour in my brest. Then most deare Loue, (which words shee vttered, intermingled with a number of sweete kis­ses) doe not leaue me in care, doo not withhold my content, doe not take away my sweetest delight, but stay you still with mee, and commaund your Knights to go in Violettas search, who at the least beck, will Post through the Worlde to doe you seruice: and hazard not your person in strange Countreys, nor amongst for [...]aine enemies, which may by som [...] treachery worke your griefe: my selfe wil here shrowd you from harm my armes shall inclose you from danger, and my loue shall be the For [...] you shall conquer. I will expell the sad remembrance of their losse, with delightfull communication: my selfe will rock your sences aseep with Musicke, and my endeuours shall labor to purchase your content: Then doo not séeke to leaue me comfortlesse to be waile your absence, but mak [...] abode with me still, and my loue shal shelter you from all perill. Whic [...] words being ended, the ouerflowing of her Teares, stopt the passage o [...] her speech, and sobbing foorth sighes, she hung about his necke.

Parismus was exceedingly grieued to see her heauinesse, that fol­ding her precious bodie in his armes, with a strict imbracing, he labou­red by delightfull Familiarities, to expell her sadnesse: which beeing somewhat mittigated, he vttered these speeches.

Why deare Ladie, what néede you make these complaintes, consi­dering you know nothing is so precious in my sight, nor of so deere esti­mation with me, as your sweet loue? Or what neede you make spéech, or take such feare of dangers, when you see no cause of disquiet? Why are you vnwilling that I shuld take a little paines for their sakes, that wold haue haue many waies indangered their liues, & endured extream miserie for your sake? How can I excuse my self of ingratitude, to that courteous Knight Pollipus? if whilest he passeth his time in sorrowfull care. I should liue heere in ease, not séeming to regard his miserie, that would haue shunned no danger to procure my comfort? How will all the Knights of the Cour esteeme of me, but as of an ingratefull person, if I shuld so much neglect the dutie of a Friend? Then sweete Loue, be [Page] not you the cause of my stay, but let me obtaine your swéete consent, and expell those confused cares that trouble your quiet: for be you assured, nothing can be more gréeuous vnto me, then your discontent: and no­thing more pleasing, then your accord: the dangers accurrant to trauel, are by wisedome easily auoided: then be you assured that I will shun al hazard of mishap, for your swéete sake: and leaue you off to sorrow thus for that which you cannot with equitie contradict: my stay shall not be long, nor my iourney far: then be you contented to vouchsafe your a­gréement, and you shall thereby satisfie my content: his speeches being ended, with silence she gaue consent, spending some time in sweet dalli­ance, and in the ende [...]ell fast a sleepe.

Early in y^e morning, Parismus with many swéet kisses, took his leaue of Laurana, who bedeawed her bed with a bundance of feares, for his departure, and falling into a déepe passion of feare, she presently started vp, & arraying her selfe, came downe into the court, where Parismus was readie to take his horse, & running to him caught hold of him, who maruelling thereat, tooke her most louingly in his armes, who was so far ouergon with griefe, that shée could not speake a word: but bestow­ing many swéete tear-wet kisses on her, he left her amongst her maids, and departed. With him, were Tellamor and Barzillus, keeping com­pany together some three dayes, without aduenture at all: at last, they came to a goodly plaine, whereinto a common beaten path conducted them, vntill comming in the middest thereof, there stoo [...] a brazen pillar, from which, parted three seuerall waies: there they stayed deuising a­mongst themselues which of those wayes to take: at last, they conclu­ded, that each of them should take a seuerall way, and solemnly taking theirleaues, with kinde farewells, they betooke each other to their good or bad fortunes.

CHAP. VII.

PArismenos (no otherwise known, but by the name of the knight of Fame. vnder which name, he did passe till he came to the know­ledge of his parents) being as is before said in another Chapter, cō ­ueied [Page] by Amasenus to his castle, sore wounded in the battel he had with Argalus and Thenudes, was so carefully tended by the Dukes Phisi­tians, that in a few daies they had brought him to his perfect remem brances: and within short time after that, to his perfect health, which greatly reioyced the good old Duke, who tooke great felicitie in his com­pany, for the many honourable parts he saw to abound in him. And vp­on a time, in the presence of all his Court, demaunded the cause of the combate betwéen him & Argalus, which he requested as well to knowe the truth thereof himselfe, as to satisfie the suspitious mindes of many that inwardly maligned the discontented Knight, vnto whom he decla­red the truth in manner as is before set downe, saying: This my lord is the truth of his misaduenture, whom I neuer iniured, but alwaies estee­med as my friends. Amasenus was glad that no cause of discontent could be conceiued against him, by any other of his Knights, who en­uied him, because his noble gifts darkned their glories: but yet his cur­teous and kind behauiour in short time expelled that roncor, and they that before were his enemies, began to make good estimation of him, & his fame began to spread it selfe in most parts of Thrace, and all that e­uer behelde him, grew into admiration of his strength, accōpanied with such bewtie, as his youth yéelded: that had they not knowne the contra­rie by his prowesse, they would haue taken him for some disguised La-Ly. Whilest the knight of Fame, remained in Amasenus court, the King of Thrace appointed a generall triumph, to be heldfor certaine daies, the occasion whereof is this.

He had one onely daughter, named Phylena, whose beautie was in­feriour to none: and her gifts of nature were such, as made her much spoken of in many countries: insomuch that many knightes came as sutors to obtaine her loue, but she had secretly betrothed her selfe to Re­mulus, one of the knights of her fathers court, without her parents con­sent: by meanes of whose beautie, the Court of Thrace was full of gal­lant knights that sought her lone, that the King was much troubled in minde how to bestow her: and séeing that she did not fancie one more than another, he appointed a general triumph to be held for seuen daies, and whosoeuer bare away the prize the last day, shuld marry his daugh­ter. Intending thereby to ende his doubt and care that way: thinking, that though his daughter had not a rich and Princely husband, yet shee should haue a valiant Champion to defend the price of her beau­tie. [Page] Amongst the rest of the Knights, there was Guido, who had long time sued to obtayne her Loue, who now reioyced at this Decrée, hoping by his valor to beare away the Bride. There was Trudamor of Candie, who thought none equall to him in strength: and therefore none more forward against the time of the appointed triumph. There was Drio of Scicil, who had sayled from his owne Countrey thither: who like­wise by his strength at seuerall times slue thrée Lyons, who came with resolution to winne Phylena for his Wife. And many other Knightes of high account.

The report of this great Triumph came to to the knowledge of the Knight of Fame, whose minde was kindled with an earnest desire to goe thither, that he requested Amasenus consent, who being desirous a­ny way to pleasure him, gaue him sufficient Coyne to furnish him of all things, fit for such an attempt. Who caused a most rich Armour of gréene to be made, shadowed with Trées of golde, presenting a For­rest. In his shielde he bare this deuise; A naked man leading a Lyon, with this Motto vnderneath, Ouergone with Discontent: Wherein the expert Artsman had so cunningly imitated his Fancie, that a man by his Armour and shielde, might easily vnderstand his meaning. The appointed time of Triumphe drawing nigh, Amasenus with a gallant troupe of Knightes, amongst whome the Knight of Fame was chiefe, came to the Thracian Court, whome the King honourably receiued.

Amasenus hauing don homage to che King, pitched his Tent with­out the Court-Gates, vpon a little hill, hard by the appointed place for Triumph: where likewise hard by him were the Tents of Guido, Tru­damor, Drio, and the three valiant knightes of Candie: Tristramus, Tennulus, and Babulus, in whose companie were a number of valiant knights, that came thither: Some to make tryall of theyr valour, and some of purpose to winne the faire Phylena. Likewise there were the Tents of the young King of Arragon: who came accompanied with a number of valiant knights hoping to beare away the Prize, that all the Plains were filled with Tents. There might you see knights breaking staues, practising themselues against the day of Triumph. Here might you see others recreating themselues in Martiall exercises: there might you heare the Neighing of Horses, clattering of Armour, cracking of staues, and such companies of Knights assembled, as if the richest prize had bene appointed for reward.

Whilest these things were acting, Phylena was in great care for [Page] Remulus, whome she loued so dearely, that rather then shee would part with him, she would endure any misery whatsoeuer: who likewise ad­dressed himself to trie his Fortune amongst the test. And the day before the Triumphe, Phylena secretly getting opportunitie to speake with him, gaue him this assurance of her constancie.

My deare Loue (qd. shee) since my Father hath decréed this publicke Triumph, for the bestowing of mee in Marriage, because amongst so many Knightes as haue sought my Loue, I haue Affianced my selfe to none of them, but haue chosen you as the chiefest Load-starre of my life and Loue: be you yet assured, that though Fortune may allot me to be anothers by Conquest, yet none but your selfe shall enioy my Loue: and though another may challenge mee by right of my Fathers decree, yet none but your selfe shall haue true interest in mee. And rather then I will yeelde to like of any Knights loue but yours, I will endure either death, or any other torment shall be inflicted vpon mee: for you are the Knight that shall conquer my Loue; you haue by courtesie woonne my Loue, and you shall weare it. Nor King nor Knight shall robbe me of that which I haue giuen to you: Then be not you discomforted, or a­ny way disquieted, but trye your Fortune amongst the rest, and Fate may happily allot you the Conquest as well as any other.

Remulus hearing his Ladyes constant Resolution, was ouercome with exceeding ioy, resoluing to aduenture as much as any to attayne the desired Conquest: and Solacing himselfe so long as theyr stolne time would permitte, in her companie, beeing by necessitie compelled, they parted.

The next Morning, the King of Thrace accompanyed by a num­ber of Personages of Estate, brought foorth the beautifull and faire La­die Phylena, most richly adorned with costly Ornamentes, wearing vpon her head a Crowne of golde, attended by an hundreth Damzells clad in white, and seated her on a Scaffolde, in the open view of all the Knights there assembled, whose harts were enamoured with the sweet attainte of her shining Beautie, and theyr courages reuiued with the hope of so rich and precious a Prize. Amongst the rest, there was the Lorde Remulus, whose heart was opprest with distrustfull care, to see the Ladie hee most estemed, and his secret protested loue, set as a Prize, to wring him from his possession: yet comforted by her faithfull pro­mise, he tooke great felicitie to see that Beautie made famous, which he made account to enioy.

[Page] The Knight of Thrace beganne the Triumph, and the first that entred the Listes was Andreas, who was at two Courses vnhorsed by Cleanthea, who continued Conquerour by the ouerthrowe of manie Knightes, vntill Bubulus, one of the thrée Brethren of Candie, with violence draue him from his horse, and burst one of his ribbes. Bubu­lus vnhorsed many Knightes afterwardes, both of Thrace and other straunge Countreys, and in the ende, was vnhorsed himselfe by Remu­lus, who behaued himselfe so valiantly in the sight of the Princes, that by the foyle of many knights, he ended that dayes Triumph, to his ex­ceeding honour, resting Conquerour vntill the next Morning. When the Night was ouerpast, the King conducting Phylena in the like man­ner he had done the day before, and seated her againe vpon the scaffold. When Remulus came into the Lists, brauely managing his prauncing stéed, whom Phylena beheld with a crefull eye, breathing foorth many a deuouted prayer for his good successe, who hauing conquerd some twen­tie Knightes, in the ende was foyled by Temulus, and so with a heauie heart left the Fielde. Temulus continued Conquerour by the disgrace of many Knights almost all that day, but in the end, was vnhorsed by the King of Arragon.

The King of Arragon ended that dayes Tryumph, and continu­ed chiefe Conquerour the next day, and on the fourth day hee was vn­horsed by Tristramus, and so hee lost the Conquest which he so much destred.

Afterwardes, Tristramus continued that dayes Triumphe with great brauerie, and the fiste day was vnhorsed by Annulus, a knight of Lybia, who vnhorsed that day fourtie knightes, to his exceeding honour.

The Knight of Fame all this while, kept himselfe out of sight, and was Lodged at a Uillage, some two miles distant from the Thracian Court, and according to Amasenus appointment, came toward the lists gallantly mounted all alone, and by the vnexpected manner of his sud­daine, approach, and by the straunge fashion of his Armour, as Fortune would, was not generally noted: and in that sort hee entred the Lists reuerencing himselfe towardes the Scaffolde whereon the King was seated, and setting spurres to his Horse, incountred Annulus, (and For­tune intending at the first to doe him some disgrace) mist his course, and Annulus brake his Staffe most brauely, wherewith the whole as­semblie [Page] gaue an excéeding shoute, and the Knight of Fame being inra­ged with his ouersight, charged another course at Annulus with greate violence, and ouerthrewe him, with his heeles vpwards: Where at the whole companie gaue an exceeding shoute againe, euery one thinking hee had purposely lost his first course; By which meanes all were desi­rous to sée him Runne againe. Which the discontented knight per­formed so gallantly, that hee vnhorsed another knight of Lybia, that thought to reuenge Annulus ouerthrowe.

Guido disdaining thereat, and séeing how the beholders were af­fected, noted him more specially: thinking by his spoyle to winne some speciall honour, and with the more brauerie to continue the rest of the Triumph, and attaine the Prize, taking a strong Staffe, prepared to méete the knight of Fame, who by that time had dismounted thrée or foure other knightes.

The people séeing the valiant Guido come to the Listes, who was well knowne to all, thought then surely to see the discontented knights Honour at an ende, for on him and Drio, the chiefest suppose of Con­quest depended.

Guido encountred the knight of Fame the first time, without of­fering or sustaining disaduantage, which inwardly vexed him to the heart, that charging him againe the seconde time, notwithstanding all his force, hee could not once moue him in his saddle. The discon­tended knight, likewise féeling the puissance of his Enemie, was excée­dingly inraged, that taking another course, they met with such furie, that the Earth shooke with the force of their encounter, and their Laun­ces shiuered into a thousand pieces, passing by, without any shewe or signe of oddes.

The king of Thrace seeing the day so farre spent, sent a messenger to intreat them to leaue the further triall of their doubtfull Conquest vn­till the next day, which they both consented vnto.

The next Morning these two Champions came againe, with desi­rous mindes to be reuenged eache of other, and met two courses with such brauerie, that the people with great shoutes applauded theyr Chi­nalrie, the knight of Fame chusing the strongest Staffe that hee could finde, meant now or neuer to giue or take the foyle, and rushing forcibly to encounter Guido, he met him so violently, that Guidos Horse yeel­ded to the force of theyr Encounter, and falling downe, burst his legge, [Page] the people séeing Guido downe, were drawne into a wonderfull amaze­ment, what this Knght should be.

Phylena likewise, as much formented in minde, in her Fancie al­lotting him the chiefest Honour: and séeing he was some Knight of a straunge Countrey, fearing least he obtaining her by Conquest, should carry her farre from her Fathers Court, and so quite from the sight and company of her deare friend Remulus, that shee was drawne into such a sadde conceit, that her heart seemed to melt thereat. Trudamor séeing Guido so foyled, with great brauerie entred the Listes, and encoun­tred the Knight of Fame, who likewise charged him with many braue courses, that in the end, the Conquest remained in great doubt betwixt them, still continuing their Encounters with excéeding courage, that Trudamor with all his stregth could not any whit disaduantage the Knight of Fame, nor he by his force get any oddes of Trudamor: that in the ende, Trudamor thyrsting for the honour of the title, and longing to enioy Phylena for his Bride, tracing softly to his Races ende, went towards the Knight of Fame, who wirh the like behauiour met him, to whome Trudamor saide as followeth;

Knight, I sée we haue no aduantage against each other by this ex­ercise; Let vs then finish the doubtfulnes of this strife with our swords, which is the readiest meanes to make one of vs Conquerour. With all my heart (answered hee againe) your proffer so well agreeth with my Fancie, as I neither can, nor will denie the same: wherewith they drue their Swordes, and charged eache other with furious blowes, whose Courage each beholder greatly commended.

The King of Thrace beholding the Noble valour of the Knight of Fame, was exceedingly well affected towards him: insomuch, that hee desired none might enioy his Daughter but hee; betwéene whome and Trudamor continued a most braue Combat: till in the end, the Knight of Fame had so grieuously Wounded him, and in so many places, that all the beholdets accounted Trudamor as halfe vanquished: and what with effusion of blood, and ouermaistered by the Knight of Fames strength, his Armour giuing way to euery blowe, was readie to fall from his Horse: Which the Knight of Fame perceiuing, stayed: vt­tering these words. Most noble Knight (qd. hee) Née the danger you are in, therefore I wish you to yéelde your selfe, for it is not your death that I seeke: and rather then I will be guiltie thereof, I will yeelde vp the Prey I shall wi [...] by your conquest.

[Page] Trudamor hearing his spéeches, excéedingly admired his curs [...]ete and being ready to speake, his sences by weaknesse beganne to fayle, and he was taken from his horse to haue his gaping wounds stenched. The whole multitude of beholders noting the singular valour of the Knight of Fame, and how courteously hée had abstained from killing Trudamor, whose life was in his power, were so well affected towards him, that they shouted and reioyced excéedingly at his victorie.

The king séeing the day growne to an end came from the scaffolde, and with great intreaties got the knight of Fame to go with him to the Court, where hée was most honourably entertained, and had his wounds carefully searcht by the Phisitians, who found none of them daungerous. Amasenus séeing the knight of Fame had won the chie­fest honour of the triumph for that day, came to the King, and reported to him how long he had bene with him, and the manner of his first ar­riuall in that countrie, séeking to increase the kings affection towardes him, by entring into many excéeding commendations of his valor, ver­tue, and courtesie: that the king did him all the honour that might be for that night, intending after the triumph ended, to expresse his loue toward him by all meanes he could deuise.

Earlie the next morning, béeing the last day of the triumph, the king was sommoned to the fielde, by the shrill sound of the knight of Fames trumpet, who was gallantly mounted, attended by an infinit number of people, that came to glut their eyes with be­holding him: there was now no talke but of the Knight of Fame, his fame had fedde the eares of all, in so much, that such a number of peo ple thronged to sée the last daies triumph, that the place could not con taine their multitude. The knight of Thrace maruelled what hée should be, and for that he was vnknowne, the straunge knights some­what reioyced, that the prize should be carried from Thrace. Amongst the rest, Kemulus noting his excéeding courtesie, and prying more nar­rowly thē any of the rest, into his behauiour, reioyced in his mind that so honourable, valiant, and curteous a knight should possesse his deare Phylena, and aboue all the knights of the Court, he was most readie to entertain the knight of Fame, with all courtesie, and wisht that none but he might beare away the chiefest honour of the triumph.

The king hauing againe in most sumptuous and royall sort seated his daughter vpon the scaffold, attended the first encounter that should be giuen to the knight of Fame, which was performed by Purrus, a [Page] knight of Cicill, with great brauerie, but the second course hée mea­sured his length on the earth, as others had done before him. Next him came a knight of Libia, who had like fortune to Purrus. Guido being not satisfied with desire of victorie, but in putting the cause of his last o­uerthrow to his horse, not himselfe, changed his armour and came in­to the [...]istes againe, intēding to reuenge his spoyle: but before he came, Drio of Cicill had broken two staues with the knight of Fame, and before he could take the third course, Guido instigated by rage, ranne against the knight of Fame, and intercepted him. Drio disdaining thereat, strooke Guido such a forcible blowe on the head, with the trun­thion of a staffe, that he made him stagger. Wherewith Guido drewe his sword, and assayled Drio with great furie, betwéene whom began a most braue combat, vntill the knight of Fame stept betwixt them, and parted them, vttering these spéeches. Knight quoth he) what meaneth this outrage? why contend you betwixt your selues, and leaue me, with whom you should principally deale, vnassayed? thinke you I am not of sufficiencie to deale with you both? but that you must thus dishonourably, séeke with priuate quarrèlls to disturbe our triall? But notwitstanding his spéeches, they began to assayle each other againe, who so inraged him, that drawing his sword, he first strooke at Gui­do, and then at Drio, offering to combat with them both, that the issue of this combate seemed to be most intricate. Sometimes the knight of Fame assayled Guido, and he resisting, when Drio lent his blowes to both: and the knight of Fame intending to reuenge him on Drio, was againe assayled by Guido.

The king perceiuing what danger this tripartie fight might bréed, commanded the Champions to be parted, which being done, the Iud­ges gaue order, that the Knight of Fame should continue his course with Drio. This cōclusion being made, the knight of Fame sheathing his sword, went to the races end so fully incest with rage, that his eyes smarted with vexatiō. Drio likewise was so fully puft with fury, that he vowed at that course to ende the triall of the combat: that both of them taking scope inough, to méete with the greater swiftnesse, set spurs to their stéeds sides, and with excéeding violence, and shiuering their Lances into a thousand spelles, which sung in the ayre: before the steeds met, Drio winding his raines, intending to ouerthrow his ene­mie vnawares, the stéed vnacquainted to such custome, bare his head aloft, and the knight of Fames steede kéeping on his continued course, with great strength ouerturned both horse and man, that Drio laie al­most [Page] brused to death with the waight of his horse. Guido attending the next triall, had readily couched his staffe, but the knight of Fame being extreamely inraged, not well knowing, or caring what he did (hauing secret intelligence before giuen him, that it was Guido, the knight that he had already vanished) set spurs to his horse, and ran at hsm with his sword point, that had he not auoyed him, he had pierced the same quite through his body: who turning himselfe with his sword drawne, assailed the knight of Fame, betwéene whome continued a most braue combat a long space, vntill Guido by his vnresistable blowe, was greeuously wounded: who intending to reuenge himselfe, strooke a most violent blow, which lighting crosse his helmet, brake his sword: which the knight of Fame seeing, cast downe his owne, disdaining to haue any oddes of weapon, and ioyning himselfe close to Guido, with long stri­uing and maine force, in the end flung him down from his horse, wher­with the people gaue such a shout, that the earth séemed to shake with the Eccho of their voices: by which time, the nights blacke mantle be­gan to ouerspread the whole earth, and there appeared no more Com­battants against the knight of Fame, but to his vnspeakeable honor he remained victor. Then presently hee was in tryumphant manner (ac­cording to their custome) with the noyse of Trumpets conducted to the kings Pallace: where the king and all the vanquished knights recei­ued him with great honour. Amongst the rest, was the king of Ara­gon, a most gallant and braue knight at armes, who greatly desired to be acquainted with his braue Champion, vsing him, with the rest of the knights, with all courtesie and kindnesse. After many solemne welcomes were past on euery side, and hée vnarmed, the king spea­king to him, vttered these spéeches. Most noble Knight, whose prowesse hath deserued euerlasting commendations, according to my former de­cree, and the promised reward to the conquerour, I yéeld to your hands my daughter, the onely heire of my kingdome. Then taking Phylena by the hand, he deliuered her to him. The knight of Fame with great reuerence kissing her hand, vttered these spéeches. Most saccred Prin­cesse, how can I sufficiently reioyce, that am this day extolled to the highest type of heauenly felicitie, by béeing vnworthily preferred to haue your custody. Yet I beséech you vouchsafe me (thouhg a stranger) that bountie, as to estéem of me, as one that is altogether vowed to your seruice, and though by right of conquest I may iustly callenge you for my owne, yet be you assured, I will request nothing at your hands but what shall be granted with your frée consent: but I rest yours to com­mand and dispose of, in all humble duty.

[Page] Which words being ended, (hée that neuer before kist Ladies lippes) with a great reuerence tooke of her a swéet kisse: and she with a heauy heart and milde behauiour, yéelding her selfe as his to dispose of, which she was constrained to do by her fathers promise, and the knights wor­thie deserts: though inwardly in her heart shée denoted all kinde loue and affection to Remulus: on whom being by, shée cast many a milde and modest looke, inwardly wishing hée were the man might claime her by right of conquest, as well as by the true affection shée bare him.

That night the Knight of Fame was honourably feasted by the King, and afterwards conducted to a most Princely lodging. And be­ing now alone, he began to meditate of his estate, and to ponder how happily hée had escaped shipwracke, and was preferred to such high dignitie, as to marry the daughter and onely heaire of a king: withall he beganne to call to minde euery particular thing hée could remember of his birth and bringing vp in the Iland of Rockes, his fancy perswa­ding him, that hée was sonne vnto some greater personage then he yet knewe of: withall, well viewing a iewell which hée had kept euer since his nurse was slaine, which she gaue him in charge to kéepe charilie, which thoughts, and withall, a secret instinct of nature, which hée felt in himself ayming at higher matters, setled a perswasiō in his thoughts that hée was borne of royall race, and therefore méete to match with a kings daughtee. And calling to minde the excéeding beautie of Phyle­na, imprinting in his fancy a perfect remembrance of her graces, sweet countenance, and milde behauiour, he felt a secret stirring and throb­bing at his heart, which disturbed all his sences, that he was as it were transformed into a kinde of pleasant delight, wherewith hée fell into a dead slumber.

In the middest of his sléepe, the Goddesse Venus, pittying the troubled thoughts of her denoted subiect Phylena, willing to extoll the fame of this knight, appeared vnto him a vision, standing by his beds side, with a cleare burning taper in her one hand, and holding a most beau­tifull Ladie in the other, of such diuine perpfections, that heauen nor earth could not in his fancie frame a more diuine essence of puritie: the Lady Venus vttering these words.

Whilest the Goddesse vttered these words, the Knight of Fame di­ligently beheld the excéeding beautie of the Lady shée held in her hand, and thinking to haue demaunded her name shée presently vanisht: wherewith hée awaked.

The remembrance of this Uision, draue him into a confusion multitude of thoughts: one while perswading himselfe, it was but a dreame and not to bee regarded, and then againe assuring himselfe it was a Uision, like to that which appeared to him in the Iland [Page] of Rocks, but chiefly such a secret impression of the Ladies beautie was fixed in his remembrance, that hee quite forsooke and forgot the least thought of Phylena, whose beautie in his fancie, was nothing comparable to her diuine perfections, that calling to minde euery par­ticular note hée had seene, the perfect Idea of the Ladies countenance, fauour and beautie, was so deeply imprinted in his heart, that no other thought could sinke in his braine, but that she was the Lady he should honour, that he vowed to search the world throughout to finde her, and come to the knowledge of his parents. In these cogitations hée spent the rest of that night.

Earely in the morning, hée was honoured with all diuersities of curiefies, and most royally feasted of the the King, and by his appoint­ment, should be affianced to Phylena, within sixe dayes. The Knight of Fame remembring the Uision, being most commonly in company of Phylena, diligently noted, which might be the knight Phylena loued, and soone perceiued that it was Re mulus, who amongst the knights of Thrace, had sought most meanes to honour him. Who little thought the knight of Fame hadde noted the kindnesse betwixt him and Phy­lena: but he noting all circumstances, perceiued that Phylena was déeply inthralled in the bands of constant love: for though thée were in talke with him, yet her eye was continually on Remulus, glaun­sing so many swéete lookes (intermingled with sighes) towards him, that hée thought it a most discourtesie and inhumaine déede to part them. And once taking occasion when Phylena was in a déepe studie, he said, Déere Lady, may I be so bolde as breake off your sad studie, wherewith you adde heauinesse to your minde: and expell this care­full disposition, and rather spend your time in mirth and pleasure: I haue often noted your heauinesse, which maketh me suppose my vn­worthinesse to be the cause thereof: but seeing my intrest is such, as that I may claime you for my owne, I beseech you doe not so much disgrace my trauailes, as not to vouchsafe me that kindnesse belon­geth to the condition of my conquest, and your fathers decrée: and if you estéeme me, because vnknowne, as yet not to haue deserued your loue, impose mée any taske, and I will vndertake it for your sake: and not onely labour to winne your loue by desert, as by the tryumphe I haue attained the interest of your person. But I per­ceiue yourcares are such, for some other great occasion, that I am an vnwelcome guest to your company, and an other hath alreadie [Page] attained your swéete loue: which if it be so, swéete Ladie hide not the same from mée, but make me priuie thereto, for I am not of that rude disposition, to challenge any thing at your handes, or inforce you to any thing, but what shall stand with your lik [...]ng: and though your vertues force you to yeelde consent to your fathers decrée, yet considering that loue is not wonne with the swoorde, but with a mutuall consent of the heart, I yéeld my selfe to bee censured by you, and giue my right of triall into your handes, and the interest I attained by conquest, I surrender to your [...], to be reuoked or sta­blished.

Ppylena hearing his wordes, with teares standing in her eyes, made this replie: Most curteous Knight, howsoeuer I haue setled my fancie héeretofore, that is nowe countermaunded by my fa­thers promise, and your interest, that I am not mine owne to dispose of, but must in all humblenesse rest at your disposition. And if any other had my promise of loue, yet nowe I must reuoke that promise, and labour to attend your liking: therefore I wholely commit my selfe according to your right of conquest, into your curteous hands.

Déere Lady (quoth he) knowe this, that I account my selfe vn­worthy of that honour, and am vnwilling any way to contradict your will or disturbe you quiet: but knowing that which you vnuertuously conceale, will surrender my estate to the knight you most sancie: for the honour I haue wonne, shall be my suficient reward: therefore I beséech you, conceale no part of your minde from me, for I will not de­ny to performe any thing you shall command, but will hazaed both life and honour to satisfie your fancie, and any way procure your content.

Phylena with a blushing countenance, made this short replie: Most noble knight, Remulus is the knight I haue long esteemed: but must now forsake him, or purchase my parents discontent, and denie you the right of your conquest. The knight of Fame smiling at the inward conceit of his Uision, made this answere. And déere Lady, I will yéelde my interest to Remulus, onely to worke your contēt: for he hath worthly deserued to be beloued of you: besides the honour he hath done me (notwithstanding I might be the onely man to hinder his con­tent) sheweth thé abūdant vertues that rule his heart. He had not scarce ended those words, but Remulus feeling his eares to glow, thinking all time tedious out of his La. sight, came into y^e gallery, wher they were in [Page] Priuate conference: but séeing them (half repenting his intrusion) would haue slept backe: towards whome, the Knight of Fame came, lea­ding the Princesse by the hand, and contrary to Remulus expectation, saide, Curteous Knight, your interest in this Ladly, is greater then mine, for you haue her heart, and I but her hand: which I surrender vnto you with al the state I can claime in her by right of conquest: and so effectually will I deale with the King, to your liking, that hée shall confirme that to you, which I should possesse by his graunt. Remu­lus hearing his speeches, was so reuiued with ioy, that he could not tell what answere to make him, and Phylenas heart lept within her, being most glad, fortune had affected that meanes for her, to enioy her déere knight Remulus.

The Knight of Fame, hauing his thoughts troubled with the re­membrance of his trauels in search of his vnknowne Lady, and wil­ling to leaue them to their secret content, with all courtesie (after many spéeches past) departed from them: who tooke such felicitie in the assu­rance he had giuen them of obtaining the Kings consent, that their ioy was without compare, spending their time in swéete & pleasant com­municatiō. Afterwards the knigh of Fame grew into great familiari­tie with Remulus, and the day for the solemnization of the wedding being come, hée with Phylena, in great pompe, were conducted to the Chappell, to be affianced togither, where the Knight of Fame knéeling downe, desired the King to grant him one request: who sware by his Crowne and kingdome, to grant it him, whatsoeuer it were. Most no ble king (quoth he) my humble desire is, that you wold without further doubt, ratifie that which I shal performe in the behalfe of the Princesse Thou shalt not be denied quoth the King.

Then the Knight of Fame rising vp, tooke Phylena by the hand, and gaue her to Remulus: the King being astonished thereat, yet remem­bring his oath, said. Since by right she is yours, and this being with hir liking, I giue her fréely to thée Remulus, & withall, adopt thée mine heire, with her after my death. Remulus knéeling, thankt his Maie­stie, and presently they were affianced together, and the rightes and solemnitis of the wedding performed with admirable pompe, to their ioy, and the high honour of the knight of Fame.

CHAP. VIII.

ARchas (as before isdeclared in the fifth Chapter,) hauing coucht himselfe by Sorana, whome hée sup­posed to haue bin Violetta, [...]out speaking a word, and hauing somewhile embraced her in his armes, beganne his dalliance; Whom Sorana so cunning­ly handled, that (notwithstanding his former fami­liarity) hée perceiued nothing but that it was Vio­letta indéed. At the first shee made a shew of a strangenesse, but after­wards indured whatsoeuer he proffered, with whō he spent that night, giuing no respite to sleepe, but gréedily satisfying both their desires, vn­the morning approching: Archas according to his Mistrisse command, departed, and left his Paramour in his bedde: his Fancie perswading him that shee was the most swéetest Ladie in the Worlde, which so re­ioyced his heart, that he spent that forenoon in much mirth, but missing Sorana, for that he had not séene her all that day, he went to her cham­ber, where being entred, he saw some of Violettaes Attires and Orna­ments confusedly cast about, & all things in such disorder, that he could not tell what to thinke. At last, hee enquired of euery one for her, but none could tell what was become of her: vntill comming to the Gardi­ants they tolde him that Sorana went out of the Castle the last Night, and that she had left with them his ring. Archas seing the ring, know­ing that he had giuen it to none but Violetta, was so inraged and asto­nished with doubt, that he presently suspected Violetta was escapt: and comming to the Chamber where she should haue bene, softly drawing the Bed-curtaines, found that Sorana had bene his bedfellow in stéede of Violetta, who after her Pastime, was fallen a sléepe. Archas now perfectly knewe that Violetta was escaped in Soranaes Disguise, and thought that it could not be, but that she must be consented therevnto, which caused him to fetch his sword, determined to end her life: but by that time he was returned, shée w [...]s awaked, and seeing him comming [Page] towards her, with his Sword bent to her Death, being terrified there­with, she gaue such shrikes, as manie of the seruants hearing the noyse, came rūning into the chamber, but he being incenst w^t excéeding rage for Violettaes losse, and inwardly fretting at his deceyte, with repen­tance that he had bestowed his Loue on that loathsome creature: Who now séemed most vgly in-respect of the diuine and swéete Lady, hee sup­posed he had embraced, caught hold on her, and by the haire of the head, dragd her out of the Bed, into the midst of the Chamber, vttering these words. Most detested strumpet, couldst thou not be contented to con­sent to Violettas escape, but thou must also betray my loue to thy loth­some lust. Was not the fauour I daily shewed thée, sufficient to de­ferre thy mind from offering me that abuse? deceiuing my expectation, betraring my life by her escape. I could peraduenture haue remitted the one, if thou haddest not bene guilty in both: but neuer shalt thou re­ioyce in my Fall, and little Pleasure shalt thou reape by thy Nightes worke. Wherewith, not suffering her to make him answere, assuredly perswaying himselfe she was guiltie in both, he thrust his sworde quite through her body, and there in that vndecent sort left her, giuing ma­ny a grone, with the date of her life. The seruants séeing this, couered her body, and afterwardes buryed it. Archas presently Arming him­selfe, giuing speciall charge to the Gardiants, to kéepe diligent Watch, posted that way he thought best in her search.

Violetta by this time was wandred a great way, care hastning her stoppes, and feare to be again by him surprized, tooke away the tedious­nes of Trauell. At last forsaking the beaten way, she wandrd aside into a most Desart and vnfrequent place, being so full fraught with Trées and little springs, that there she thought was the safest harbour, where­in to remaine vndescryed: Being tyred with Trauell, and possest with care, she sate downe vpon a banke side to refresh her selfe. Shée had not long stayed in that place, but thee behelde an Aged man, whose yeares made him stoupe to the Earthwards, carrying a few drye sticks vnder his arme. Violetta thinking, she might repose some confidence in his vertues, because of his years, drew towards him: Who séeing so beau­tifull a Lady, in that vnfrequented place vnattended, excéedingly mar­uelled, to whom she saide. Ah good Father, whose yeares beares Reue­rence, will you vouchsafe a distressed Ladie succour, who by extreame miseries compulsion, am wandred to this vnknowne place, sore wea­ried with Trauell, and in requitall of your kindnesse, my prayers shall [Page] inuocate the Heauens to graunt you Felicitie, and my Reward suffici­ent to content you for your paines. The old-man hearing her spéeches, made this answere: Faire Lady, my homely Cell is not worthy to re­ceiue your person, but such as it is, you shall be hartily welcome there­to: For I desire to liue no longer, then to extend my small assistance to such as are in distresse, but especially to such harmles creatures as your selfe: Therefore pleaseth you with kindenesse to accept what succour my abilitie will affoord; What counsell my Experience can giue you, you shall receiue both with a willing heart. And for that I sée your tra­uell (vpon what occasion to mée as yet vnknowne,) hath both wearyed you, and this colde Earth whereon you sat, may endanger your health, giue me your hand, & I will yéeld you what aid my weake strength wil permit, to guide you to my Cell, which is hard by. Doo so good Father (quoth she) and I thanke you most heartily: Where I will disclose to you my vnfortunate mishap; That saide, shae leand her selfe vpon his aged arme, so weary with Trauell, that she scarce could set her féete vp­on the grassie earth, for hurting them. His Cell, it was no other but a hollow Caue, which the poore Did-man by his owne industrie, had cut and vndermined vnder the side of a Rocky-hill. Which was well con­triued, hauing his lodging seuerall from the rest. And so artificially had he framed his Chimney, that through a hollow Uawt, he conueyed the smooke, at the foote whereof, ran a most pleasant spring, where the cleare Water striuing with the smooth pibbles, made a burbling noise, where the comfortable beams of golden Phoebus had full force. On the other side was a swéet spring, where the birds kept continuall pleasant recor­ding Harmonie. Assoone as Violetta, was entered this olde mans Pa­radise, he seated her soft vpon a chayre, giuing her all the courteous en­tertainment he could, and presently brought foorth such cates as he was prouided of: Which was, White bread, chéese and apples: Her drinke being the cleare brooke Water that ran by his Cell doore; Whereto, be­cause hee would amend the taste to her liking, he mingled Aquauitie. Violetta being hungrie, thought his poore prouision in that quiet place, dainty fare, wherewith she stenched her hunger, and in the mean time, the old-man had heat Water and hearbs for to bathe her ouertrauelled féete in, which the kindly accepted, perceiuing that it came as willingly from the old-mans hart, as euer good déed came from any, and therwith bathed her féete. This done, Violetta desired the olde man to seat him­selfe down by her, (who taking a stoole, sat downe right against her, fix­ing his eyes, vpon her Face) whilst she began to speake as followeth.

[Page] Good Father (qd. she) the kindenesse I finde in your entertainment, sheweth the Uertues that rule your heart, which maketh mee no whit doubt to commit the dangerous report of my Tragicall misfortune to your secrecie, neyther neede I require any stricter assurance, then your promise alreadie past, to extende your ayde to my distresse. Therefore thus it is: I was borne in Thessalie, and there Wedded to the Noble and courteous Knight Pollipus, who came but lately to Bohemia, with the most noble and famous Prince Parismus, who hath brought hither the Kings daughter of Thessalie, the vertuous Princesse Laurana: we had not stayd long in the Bohemian Court with great ioy, but thus our felicitie was crost, (my Lorde and I one day) inticed by the heate of the Sanne to seeke some coole shadow, wandred from the Court into a plea­sant Groue, where haunted a Wilde-beare, whome my louing knight espying, pursued: And I fearing least some harme might betide him, compelled by desire of his Welfare, thought to haue followed him, but wandred a quite contrary way; and being gotten [...]ot of the Wood, fea­ring to returne backe, was by Archas (to mee before vnknowne) by cun­ning deceyt conueyed to his Castle: his promise being to haue carryed mee back to the Bohemian Court. Where when he had remained some two dayes, hee certified me fal [...]y (which I afterwards perceyued) that Pollipus was dead, which I beléeuing, took it so heauily, that I was of­ten in daunger of my life thereby: but in small time I plainely found his falsehood, and vnderstood his intent, which was, to detaine me in his kéeping, to satiate his lust, which grew to such furie, that surprising me vnawares in his Garden, he would haue forced me, had not a Gentle­woman, by my shreeks and cries repaired to the place where I was, and thereby preuented him. Whome I made priuie to all my secretes, by whose meanes, late yester night I stole from the Castle: Nowe good Father (qd. she) counsell me how to escape his hands, who I know ma­keth all diligent search for mée; and vnlesse you helpe mée. I am like to fall into his handes againe: Which rather then I will doe, I will en­dure a thousand deaths.

The Old-man had all this while diligently noted euery circumstance of her discourse, making this answere: Lady, I perceiue by your speech what miseries you haue vndergone by Archas Treacherie, whose infa­mous déeds hath made his name famous, beeing the chiefe Gouernour of these Mountaines: indeede extreamly and generally hated, who de­lighteth in no vertuous actions, but cōtinually addicts his mind to vil­lanie [Page] and vnknightly déedes, out of whose hands, you are most happy to haue escaped: neither are you in the countrey of Bohemia (as you suppose) but farre distance from thence: and the best meanes for you to get thither, is to change your habit, whither my selfe so pleaseth you, will be your weake, yet trustie guide.

Violettaes heart leapt within her, for ioy to heare his spéeches, which she presently put in practise, giuing him a Ie well: which he at the next towne exchanged for such homely wéedes as they deuised to bee fittest to shroud her from being descried. Wherewith hauing apparel­led her sel [...], she departed with the olde man, who left his C [...]ll to the kéeping of his sonne, who was seruant to a wealthy Boore dwelling thereby. The [...] daies iourney they ouerpassed with ease, shortning the tediousnesse of the way, with the olde mans discourses: and at night rested themselues as conusniently as they might, vpon the colde earth, and in this sort they iournied some thrée dayes, vntill their prouision beganne to decay: and they were without hope of getting any more to supply their want, for that they were entred into a desolate Wilder­nesse: which they could not ouerpasse in thrée or foure of their short dayes iourney. Violetta of the twaine, was the best traueller: for the old man by reason of his withered age, was soone tyred, hauing no such inward conceit to driue him forwards, as shée had procured by a lon­ging desire to see her déere knight Pollipus, that she wisht a thousand times that her guide had béene young, and of better strength to in­dure their iourney. But thus contrary, it sell out the olde mans time of death then approached, who hauing taken a surffet, with lying on the cold earth, began to be sickly: and in the end so weake, that he could indure no further trauell: but sitting downe vpon a bankes side, féeling an extreame faintnesse to possesse his heart, hée vttered these spéeches: Unfortunate wretch that I am, that am not able to performe my pro­mise made to you most curteous Lady: but must here leaue you in di­stresse, and without comfort: would that my Destiny had not suffered me to liue vntil this instant, or y^t your good Fortune had bene so fauou­rable to haue lighted on a safer guide, that you might haue escaped the desolation, I am mast vnhappily like to leaue you in: this vnfre­quented wildernesse, affordeth no release to your cares: but after my death, your trauels are to be begin a fresh, being without a guide, which may chance to bring your vertuous perfections into some further dan­ger: onely this comfort remaineth to my carefull dying heart, that your [Page] habit may be a meane to bring you safe from all dangers. This vnfre­quented place is so full of vncertaine wayes, that I know not almost which of them to counsell you to [...]ollow: Onely this, keepe the Sunne at his setting right before you, for that way [...]eth the Bohemian Court, and so sweete Ladie, I commit you to all good Fortune: For I see the date of my wretched life is at an ende: Wishing all prosperous successe to your Iourney, all happy escape out of danger, and your owne swéete heartes content: Desiring you to make no [...]ance to prouide my Funerall, but leaue mee in this place, for little account doe I make of my Aged bodie. And so againe, I wish you all happie fel [...]ie, with a blessed and ioyfull ende of your cares: Which words being ended, hee gaue vp the ghost.

Violetta seeing the good Olde-man dead, was ouercome with such infinite multitudes of Cares, that shee had much adoo to keepe her selfe from following him, that she sate there sheadding abundance of teares, and what with the remembrance of the Desolatenesse of the place, and the dead bodie of the Olde-man, which was a fearefull Coarse to looke vpon, her Sences were drawne into such an amazed terror, that shee was halfe besides her selfe therewith: and being agast with the sight of the Olde-man, hasted with all spéede she could, onward on her iourney, but darke Night approching, her minde was then rackt with such con­fused Feares, that sometimes shee thought the Olde-mans Ghoast haunted her, which much apalled her Sences, with a deadly ghastfull terror: Then she thought shee heard some wilde Beast behinde her, readie to seaze vpon her, which made her forsake the chosen place where she meant to haue throwded [...]er selfe, and to seeke out an other in her Fancie more safe: So that in a multitude of such like cares, she ouer­past that tedious Night, vttering many a sigh for the Mornings chéer­full approach: Which being come, she againe betooke herselfe to her so­litary trauell, inwardly sorrowfull for her late misfortune: but most of all terrified with feare to méete Archas, thinking to bende her steppes towards Bohemia.

But Fortune entending to augment her cares, and lengthen her restlesse Trauells, caused her to wander a quite contrarie way, and shee nothing misdoubting, but supposing she was in the readiest way, stept on her steppes some thrée dayes without intermission, and at the last she espyed an ancient Castle, whose craggy UUalles were readie to [Page] fall downe in ruine to the ground, where shee was constrained by rea­son of extreame hanger, to seeke for succour: and comming to the gate, she saw an Aged old man with a sad countenance, keeping the entrance; To whom Violetta spake in this sorte. Good aged Syr, vouchsafe a poore distressed Woman some reliefe, beeing wandred farre out of my way, and for want of foode, am like to perish.

Hee lifting vp his head, made this Answere: This place affoordeth small comfort, because euery part thereof, is repleate with sorrow: but come in, and what entertainment it yeeldeth, you shall be welcome vn­to: That saide, hee shut the Gafe, and brought her into the Castle, where were a few Seruants in mourning attire: séeming by their ha­bit and sad countenances, to be quite ouergrowne with discontent: and in a roome seuerall by it selfe, sate a Beautifull Damzell, with her eyes swollen with griefe: to whom the Porter brought Violetta, and said. Madame Clarina, this distressed Woman craueth some Succour, be­ing wandred farre from her way, whom I will leaue with you, because I must returne to my charge. Clarina rising vp, tooke Violetta by the hand, and desired her to sit downe by her: to whom she said.

This place by reason of our misfortunes, may rather adde care to aungment your sorrowes, then comfort your distresse: For the mise­ry that hath lately befallen vs, is such, as hath expelld all ioy from our hearts. And because you shalbe acquainted with the truth of all, I will relate the circumstance of our Tragedie.

There remaineth a Gyant, not farre from this place, called Branda­mor, in a castle of such inuincible strength, as it is impossible to be van­quished by legions of souldiers, who takeeh delight in nothing but cru­eltie and vnlawfull attempts. Who vpon a time, chanced to arriue at this Castle, and by euill fortune, espied mée walking abroad, in compa­nie of my Parents, my brother Panuamus, and two of my Fathers ser­uants. And (I know not by what desire thereto drawne, his minde bée­ing apt to any mischief) he viewing me, liked my beauty, and such a dis­ordinate desire stirred in his brest to obtain the same, that he shrowded himselfe in secret, vntill he espied his fittest opportunitie: and suddenly set vpon my Father, offering to take me away by violence: my Father denying him, vntill the Gyant being inraged, drue his Sword and as­sailed him, whom in short time he slue: Which my Mother and I per­ceiuing, fled towards this Castle, and in the meane time my Brother [Page] Panuamus continued Fight against him a good space, but being vnable to cope with so mighty an Enemy, was by reason of so many grieuous Wounds, in the ende left by him for dead: Which done, Brandamor séeing our flight, hasted after vs: But before hee could come at vs, we attained the Castle, and rescued our selues from his possession. But when he saw himselfe disappointed, he made as though he had departed from hence, and contrary to our thoughts, hee hidde himselfe secretly a­mongst the Bushes.

My Mother being ouercome with extreame sorrow for my Fathers death, neither regarding doubt nor daunger, went backe, with hope to recouer him, whom Brandamor surprized, and carried away with him, hoping by her Imprisonment, to winne her consent to yéelde mee into his hands. My brother Panuamus, within a while, recouered his féese, not knowing of my Mothers misfortune, with great danger of his life, crawled home: whom I had much adoo to preserue from death, and now hee is departed towards the Forrest of Arde, where the Giants Castle standeth, to inuent means to set my Mother at libertie, and this night is the premised time of his return. And thus haue you heard the whole circumstance of our sorrow: Which when she had saide, abundance of feares issued from her eyes, which made Violetta (whose tender heart w [...]s ready to relent at euery sadde discourse) accompany herlamentafi­cus with watry eyes: Withall, remembring how vnfortunately shes was still crost in her desires, which was to attain to Bohemia, and how contrary to her expectation, shee was wandred quite an other way, and brought both in danger of her life, and to that poore and distressed estate, her heart was prest with such inward sorrowe, that shee could not stay the passage of her teares already begun: but such a violent floud distil­led from her precious eye-balls, that Clariana could not chuse but note them: and W^tall, grew into an earnest desire to know the cause of that extraordinarie Passion: Also, well viewing her Beautie and sw [...]e countenance, collecting into her Fancie euery circumstance, she began to suppose that Violetta was no such as her Apparell shewed, but of better Byrth and bringing vp, then that by her Attyre was shewen, that desiring to be resolued of those doubts which arose in her Fancie, shee vttered these spéeches.

I know not (quoth she) what title to ascribe vnto you, for that I am ignorant of whence and what you are, but if you will commit the re­por [...] thereof to me, I promise you both to conceale the same (if any such [Page] néede be) and also to do my vttermost to pleasure you any way.

Therefore I desire you to impart the recitall thereof to my secrecie, that knowing your estate, I may know how to vse you according to your worthinesse.

Violetta beeing desirous to seeke any meanes for to comfort her self, made this reply: I most hartily thank you for offering me so large a proffer of your asistance, which I stād in steed of now, for that my end­lesse trauel craue some ease: for my lucklesse stars haue allotted me such aduersities, as would soone cut off the wretched liues of many: but nei­ther death, nor ought else will be so fauourable as to ridde me from further calamities, but I am stil plunged into their intricate labyrinth: for know most curteous Ladie, that my selfe of late was promoted to all felicitie, but now am contrarily plunged in all distresse, and that this habit I haue onely put on, to shroud my selfe from many perils, that I was formerly subiect vnto. For I am an vnfortunate Lady as you are, by extreame misfortune drawne from my dignitie, friendes and ac­quaintance, and forced both by want and wearinesse to séeke refuge in this place, whereby your kindnesse I am well refresht: neither will I conceale any of my misfortunes from your knowledge. Then Violet­ta repeated the whole trueth, as she had done before to the olde man in his Cell, which when Clarina heard, with teares shee did partake her sorrow: and taking her by the hand, desired her to hold her excused, for not vsing that behauiour towards her, which her estate deserued, promising with willingnesse, to further her safe cōduct into Bohemia, which she knew her brother Panuamus at her intreatie would vnder­take. In this and such like communication they spent their sad time, vntill Panuamus return, who shortly came without hope of redéeming the Ladie Madera his mother.

Clarina as soone as he was come, delared to him all that shée could of Violettas estate, and what she was: among the rest, she tolde him that she was esposed to a Knight named Pollipus. Panuamus hea­ring her name Pollipus, called to remembrance the spéeches hée had with a knight that he met that day, and assuredly thought this was the Ladie he went in search of. Now the knight he had met was Tella­mor, who entring into communication with him, enquired if he could tell [...] of a Lady that was vnfortunately lost in Bohemia, (re­lating the very same circumstāce that Clariana told him, Violetta had before declared vnto her) withall, Tellamor demanded if he had not [Page] met a knight, bearing this deuise in his shield: A Knight pursuing a Beare. Now it fell so out, that Panuamus beheld the notable combat that Pollipus fought with Brandamor, and remembring his deuise, knew him to be the same knight Tellamor inquired after, to whom he declared all that hée knewe, concerning the battell with Brandamor, and how treacherously he was surprised and imprisoned.

Tellamor hearing that Pollipus was imprisoned in the Forrest of Arde, departed thither-wardes, and Panuamus came to his Castle, where at his comming, he found Violetta, in simple array, and hearing his sisters spéeches, waying each circumstance, found that she was the very Ladie that the Knight inquired after, and that the knight that fought so valiantly with Brandamor, and was by him imprisoned, was her husband.

Panuamus hauing gathered this intelligence of Violettaes misfor­tunes, and remembring the noble valour of Pollipus, was touched with an affectionate pittie of her distresse, and what furthered by h [...]s owne inclination and Clarinas intreatie, resolued to vse his vttermost indeuours to worke her comfort: and comming to Violetta, declared the whole circumstance of all that hée had heard of Tellamor, and of Pollipus, in the Castle of Brandamor.

Violetta hearing of a certaintie that Pollipus was yet liuing, and not dead, as she before that suspected, (for though she perceiued the con­trary before in Archas Castle, yet a scruple remaining in her minde thereof) was somewhat comforted, and in some better hope to come to him againe: but calling to minde the daunger hée was now in, was excéedingly againe ouerwhelmed with care of his welfare: and hearing of his imprisonment, determined to endanger her owne libertie to en­ioy his company, if other meanes could not be wrought for his release. Panuamus séeing her ouerwhelmed with such a chaos of confused cares, said as followeth. Most vertuous Ladie, since Fortune hath brought you into this place, & that you haue thus happily heard of your knight Pollipus, release your selfe from the bonds of those cares, which di­sturbe your quiet: for here you shall want nothing that accordeth to your will: and my selfe will do the best I can to set Pollipus at libertie, which whilst I goe about, so pleaseth you, my sister Clariana shall kéepe you company, whose griefes are as great as may be.

Sir (quoth Violetta) might I obtaine this fauour at your handes, that you would geue the knight you met, knowledge of my béeing [Page] here, then I am sure hée will soone come to mée, with whom I would gladly speake, for I knowe he is one of the knights of Bohemia.

That will I do (quoth Panuamus) or any thing else you shall com­maund me: and because I will not be disappointed of meeting him, I will early in the morning follow him, for that he is gone to the Forrest of Arde, where I shall be sure to finde him. E [...]rly the next Morning, according to his word, hee mounted himselfe, and departed after Tella­mor, leauing Clarina and Violetta together, vsing the best perswasi­ons they could to comfort one another.

CHAP. IX.

PAnuamus hauing left Violetta and Clarina toge­ther, with all speede hasted to finde Tellamor, and Ryding an vnwoonted pace, hee ouertooke him en­tring into the Forrest, vnto whome he saide, Syr Knight, let me be so bold as to aske you one questi­on? Tellamor hearing his wordes, and knowing him to be the same Knight he had met withall be­fore, courteously bad him aske what he pleased Are you not a Knight of Bomemia (qd. he?) Tellamor maruelling why he ask [...] him that que­stion, told him that he was indéed belonging to Parismus, Prince of Bo­hemia. Then said Panuamus, a Ladie that remaineth not farre hence, named Violetta, hath sent mee backe vnto you, and desireth to speake with you. Tellamor hearing his wordes, was affected with exceeding ioy thereat, making this replie. Syr Knight, in a happy houre did I méete with you; by your meanes to come to knowledge of theyr abode I most desire to finde: indeede Violetta is the Lady I goe in search of, and also wife to the Knight you told me of yesterday, who by your re­port remaineth Prisoner in the Forrest therefore I will returne with you to visite that Ladie, vnto whose seruice my life is who [...]y Dedica­ted. This saide, they returned backe together, but the Night beeing approached, and they without any place to lodge in, thought it as good to trauell all Night, as take vp their lodging vpon the cold ground: there­fore Panuamus vndertooke to guide them, [...]sting to his owne know­ledge, and contrary to his expectation, wandred a quite contrarie way: [Page] and when Phoebus beganne to illuminate the Earth with his golden brighnesse, they were come into a pleasant valley, where they behelde two Knights continuing a most sterce combat, and drawing neare vn­to them, Tellamor presently know the one of them to be Barzillus, the occasion of which combat was thus.

After Barzillus had parted from Parismus and Telamor, ta­king the middle way, he wandred many dayes without any aduenture, and at last arriued at a moste goodly Pallace, most excéedingly beautifi­ed with inumerable Turreis of exceeding height, that their toppes seemed to equall the cloudes, of such curious Workmanshippe as the like hath not ben seen, whose glistring reflection procured by the sunnes bright beames, dazeled the eyes of the beholders: with an admirable glittering. In the midst of this stately Pallace, stood a gallant Building in forme of a Temple, seeming to the view of such as beheld the same, to be made of the most purest and burnished gold, on the toppe wher­of stood the forme of a most goodly Lady, with a crowne of gold vpon her head, whose liuely proportion & forme of exceeding beautie, would haue detained a most constant minde, in a wandring delight to behold the same. Barzillus beholding the exceeding beautie of the Pallace, and the stately forme of the pictured Lady, was desirous to know who in­habited there, and to that intent drawing nigh thereto, at the entrance thereof he beheld a Tent, with those verses written thereon.

Barzillus reading the Superscription, smo [...]e the Tent with his lunce, when presently issued out a Knight, in euery poynt readie ar­med, to whome Barzillus said, as followeth. Knight, I reading the superscription ouer the entrance into the Tent, according to the direction thereof, haue called thee forth, demaunded thy meaning there­by, and what goodly Pallace this is, the like whereof I neuer behelde for beautie? Knight (aunswered hee againe) this Pallace is called the [Page] Golden Tower, belonging to Maximus, the most mighty and famous King of Natolia, wherein is his onely daughter Angelica, for beautie without compare: for wit, forme, and vertuous Ornament, excelling all the Ladyes in the world, whose equall was neuer heard of, nor can be found within the spatious continent of the earth. The King hath places her in his most rich and gorgeous Pallace, whose walles are of Brasse, and framed of such inuincible strength, that no power of man is able so subdue the same: she hath to attend her a hundreth Ladies of great dignitie, and a thousand of the most valiant Knights in all the world. The occasion why he guardeth her person is this: At her byrth an olde Inchauntresse prophecied, that her beautie should set Kings a discord, and be the cause of her fathers death.

And because he will match her according to her dignitie, hee hath like­wise made a vow, that none but the greatest Potentate in the world should be her husband. Which said, the Knight went into his Tent and brought out a most gallāt Picture; this (quoth he) is the Ladies forme, wherin the Artsman hath shewed some pretty skill: but so fac [...]e is this picture vnconformable to the perfect description of her celestiall perfe­ctions, and as farre different in delicaie, as is blacke from white, or beautie from deformitie, whose view would change the a [...]ons of [Page] the truest Knight liuing, from his former constant resolue, to adore her beautie, and forsake his former vowes, onely to attend her person, for so diuine are her liniaments, and so rare her perfections, that her fame is euen spred through all the regions of the world. Barzillus hearing him enter into a new discourse of her beautie, and that in such affectio­nate sort, hauing before in his fancy said enough, beganne to laugh at him saying:

Knight, me thinks thou dotest, or else art madde, to enter into such commendation of this Ladies beautie, hauing peraduenture neuer séene other fayre Lady, or else for that thy selfe art affectionately deuo­ted to loue none but her: for I haue séene a Lady that as farre excéedeth this picture, as thou reportest shee doth all other: (which words Bar­zillus spake, onely to see whether his valour and boastings were agrée­able) wherewith the Knight that kept the Tent was so vexed, that he vttered these speeches:

What ill nurtured creature art thou (quoth hee) that de [...]idest the beautie that is rather to be admired? hast thou no more manners then to make so little estimation of that which all the world adores? thou shalt dearely abide this discourtesie: with that hee mounted himselfe, and charged a Speare at Barzillus, who answered him with such a cou­rage, that at two courses he ouerthrew him from his horse. By which time a number of Knights were vpon the Battlements viewing their combat, and seeing the Knight that kept the Tent foyled, burst into an exceeding laughter, and so departed.

Barzillus hauing foyled the Knight, for that the night drew nigh, withdrew himself from the Golden Tower into a pleasant valley, and there stayed that night. The Knight that kept the Tent was belong­ing to the King of Candie, who came with perswasion to winne Ange­licas loue with his prowesse, and with much ado had obtayned leaue of the Gardiants to keepe the passage, but hee not contented with his foyle, intending to reuenge his disgrace, followed him into the valley, where Tellamor found them combatting, as is aforesaid: who know­ing Barzillus, stepping betwixt them, parted the fray. Barzlilus like­wise knowing Tellamor, with great kindnesse embraced him, and vpon his request declared the cause of their combat. Tellamor then speaking to the knight of the Tent, gaue him this farewell. Knight, re­turne to your charge, for your combat here is at an end, for businesse [Page] of more importance withdraweth this knight, which may turne to thy good, for likely thou wouldest haue perished by his prowesse. You shall haue occasion enough to exercise your Armes, against such as would steale your Lady, which this Knight intendeth not; therefore returne to your Tent, & defend her beautie there, which none here gainsaieth. Tellamor hauing ended his spéech, intreated Barzillus to depart with him, which the Knight of Candie séeing, he returned towards the Gol­den Tower.

By the way as they were returning towards Panuamus Castle, Tellamor delared to Barzillus how fortunately he came to knowledge of Violetta, which exceedingly reioyced Barzillus heart: but when hee vnderstood Pollipus misfortune, hee was contrarily affected with as great desire to set him at libertie: which communication shortned their iourney, and in the end arriued at the Castle.

The newes of their approach soone came to Violettas hearing, who knowing both Tellamor and Barzillus, welcommed their presence with such effusion of teares, that for a space she could not vtter a word; but her floud being somewhat stinted, saluting them most kindly, shee vt­tered these spéeches:

Your presence worthy friends bringeth great comfort to my heart, after my tedious toyle of misery, what thanks my vndeseruing heart can yéeld, I render you for the paines you haue taken for my sake: for I know you vndertooke this trauell to finde me out, that am not wor­thy to bee so well estéemed of you, much lesse vnable to make you the least part of amends. You may sée to what poore estate I am brought by the treachery of a disloyal Knight, who hath caused my misery, your trauell, and Pollipus imprisonment, intill I was succoured by this courteous Lady, whose friendshippe hath succoured mee from famish­ment.

This homely attyre I vndertooke for my quiet passage: but misfor­tunes still awayie my miserable steps, which no disguise can preuent: with that her teares burst into a floud againe.

Barzillus being mooued with her teares, was ready to partici­pate her griefe in the manner she did; but at last he sayd. I beséech you comfort your selfe in these extremities, and let not such passions of sor­row oppresse your heart, since the worst of your dangers are past: [Page] we haue all the reward we expect for our trauels, now we haue found you, for so much are wee bound to that worthy Knight Pollipus, and the most noble and gracious Prince Parismus, (who is likewise tra­uelled in your search) that we account our liues well imployed to plea­sure them and you.

Violetta hearing that Parismus was trauelled in her search, was almost ouercome with passionate affection of his kindnes, and remem­bring what sorrow Laurana would endure for his absence, with sighs she said: I of all most vnfortunate, to be the cause of that noble knights trauell, which many wayes hazard his safetie, and bréede much dis­quiet in the Bohemian Court, but especially to that most vertuous, courteous, and honourable Princesse Laurana: whose sorrow I know will be most excéeding, and all procured by my vnlucky destinie, that am altogether vnworthy to be esteemed of them, nor in any degrée to be so highly regarded.

Tellamor likewise grieuing to sée her sorrow, comforted her with these words; Dears Lady, cast off these sad cares, and let no disquiet thought trouble you, for what is past cannot be recalled, but all is now amended by your recouery, whose death we all greatly feared. By this time Panuamus had prepared their dinner, which was serued in after the best sort: to which, hee and Clarina welcomed them with great kindnesse. Clarinas heart being somewhat comforted by their company, hoping by their meanes to sée the downefall of Brandamor, and her Mothers release.

When they had well refresht themselues, and heard Violletta re­late the whole circumstance of her misfortunes, they beganne to deuise what course to take to set Pollipus at libertie, which they found im­possible to doe by force, because the strength of the place was inuincible: at last, they determined the next morning to trauell, to try if Fortune would any way fauour their attempts. After they had spent some time in these spéeches, and euery one fully resolued what to doe, Bazillus saw a payre of Chesse standing on a side Table, which hee went vnto, and began to place the men in order, which Panuamus espying, came to him, and saide; That if hee pleased, he would play a game with him, wherewith Barzillus was contented.

Clarina séeing them busie at Chesse, tooke Violetta by the hand, and requested her to walke into the Garden: Lady (quoth Violetta) so pleaseth you, this knight may beare vs company. Then taking Tella­mor [Page] with them, they thrée walked into the Garden together, and a while recreated themselues with seuerall discourses of the vertue of the Herbs and faire Flowers they encountred. And at last, being weary with Walking, and procured thereto by the heate of the Sunne, they seated themselues together vnder the shadow of a Myrtle- [...]ee, vpon a rising banke, bedeckt with many sweete smelling flowers. Tellamor see­ing their sadnesse, entred into many pleasaunt Discourses to expell the same (if he could) out of theyr mindes; but no speeches he did vse, could once reuiue their cast downe countenances. But Violetta, leaning her selfe vpon her elbow, fell fast a sléepe, and left Tellamor onely to comfort Clarina, for shee heard not what he said: Which hee perceiuing, left off his Talke a while, and in short space after, fell into a deepe studie, from which hée suddainely reuiued himselfe (thinking Clarina has noted the same) and casting his eye vpon her, he saw how busie she was cropping the swéete Flowers, and collecting diuers of them together, beganne to frame a Nosegay.

Tellamor séeing her so busie, was vnwilling to interrupt her quiet content: Withall, viewing her sweete beautie and prettie gestute, his minde was Affected with great pleasure to be holde her, and her care­full nipping the Flowers, with her white hand, exceedingly graced her perfections, that his heart inwardly panted with a sudden motion of delight: and his Fancie beganne so much to commende her sweete be­hauiour, that euen then his affections entertained a secrete motion of loue. Whilest he viewed her thus precisely, she suddainely cast her eye vpon him, thinking he had bene still in his dumps, but perceiuing how stedfastly he beheld her, a suddaine blush attainted her, that therewith the sweete Rostate colour glowed in her cheekes: Which hee likewise perceiuing, came towardes her, and with great Reuerence, folding her precious hand in his, saide.

Fayre Ladie, I am sorry my presence hath interrupted your quiet Meditation, and hindred your delightfull exercise. Syr (qd. shee) your presence hath done no harme, my study being but idlenesse, neither was my labour well bestowed, therefore you might the better hinder it.

If (q [...]. hee) you make so little account thereof, bestow those Flow­ers on [...]ée, and I will become your debtor for them: and your studie I thinke was not as you please to tearme the same, Idlenesse: For now I see you are fallen into it again: Which maketh me maruell why you should spend your pleasant dayes in such cares and sadde cogitations. [Page] Syr (qd. Clarina,) Howe can I doe otherwise, when my sorrowes are past compare?

Sweete Lady (qd. hee:) Would you followe my aduise, you should mittigate your Passions, and bannish that Care which oppresseth your heart: For things past remedie, are not to be lamented, and impossible to be recouered: but I beseech you pardon my boldnesse, that presume to enter into spéech of your thoghts, which may (contrary to my know­ledge) be procured by many other occasions: more he would haue said, but Violetta awaking, broke off his talk, that letting go Clarinas swéet hand, which he had held in strict imprisoument, he rose vp from the ro­siate banke whereon he sate, féeling a sudden Passion ouerwhelme his hart, & turning to a Rose-bush, crept off a Rose, which he smelt too, and maruelling at that sudden dumpe, pondering what might be the cause thereof, hee felte Loues Inclinations to take possession of his Heart, but suddenly reuiuing himselfe from that dumpe, he turned to them a­gaine: Who were risen from their seate, and attended them into the Castle, where Panuamus and Barzillus were, who euen then had ended theyr pastime, whome afterwardes they accompanied till the Nightes approach broke vp their societie.

Early the next Morning, these knights (resoluing to follow theyr former purpose) Armed themselues, and came downe into the Hall, to take their leaue of Clarina and Violetta. Clarinas heart so melted with griefe, by remembrance of her Fathers death, her Mothers imprison­ment, and the danger these Knightes and her Brother might incurre, that with drawing herselfe to a Windowe, shee bedeawed her Cristall cheekes with Cristall teares: Which Tellamor perceiuing, hauing his deuotions vowed to her Seruice, and hauing but lately entertayned Loue, pittying her laments, and desirous to shewe his affection to her­wardes; (Whilest Barzillus and Panuamus were in conference with Violetta) he came to her, and saide.

Most vertuous Lady, your sad laments, affect my heart with griefe, neither can I chuse but partake your Woe, therefore I beseeth you, tell mee what in the thing you most desire, and which may adde any com­fort to your heart, and I will venture both my life and libertie, to pur­chase the fame to your content?

Courteous Knight (qd. Clarina) no other cause of Care troubleth mae, but my Fathers death, my Mothers imprisonment, and the daun­ger my Brother and you are like to incurre, by the Treacherie of that [Page] Gyant Brandamor: for your proffered Friendship I yéeld you thanks, being all the reward I am able to make you: Wishing you not to ha­zard your selfe for my sake, that am vnworthie of such kindenesse, and vnable to make requtfall for the same.

Yes Lady (qd. Tellamor) vourhsafe but to enshrine my Willingnes in your [...]embrance, and giue me any commaund, and but accept mee for your Preseruatiue, and that is the onely reward I craue: and you shall see that I will in all dutie indeuour to become more gracious in your sight. For my heart desireth nothing more, then to imploy it selfe in your seruice. Clarina hearing his speeches, could not chuse but take them kindely, and marking with what affectionate deuotion they came from him, made this answere.

Good Syr, to withholde that small Fauour you demaund, were dis­caurtesie: Therefore because you proffer your friendship so kindely, I giue you leaue to assume that Name vppon you; Which is farre vn­fitte for your dignitie: and if hereafter you performe your words, you shall finde me nothing vnmindefull to reward you: Which words be­ing ended Tellamor with Reuerence, parted with a sweete kisse from her Corrall coloured lippes.

CHAP. X.

AFter many cerimonious Fare-wels past, they par­ted, the Ladies to their Chamber, and the Knights to their iourney, towards Brandamors castle, wher at Sunne-set they arriued, and for that night tooke vp their Inne vnder the couert of a spreading Oke, deuising amongst themselues, by what means they might archieue theyr desire. Early the next mor­ning, Argalt issued foorth of the Castle intending as his custome was, to search if any Knights were in the Forrest: (for euer since Venolaes imprisonment, diuers Knights of Lybia tame to trye their Fortune a­gainst Brandamor,) whom these three Knights supposed to haue beene the Gyant himselfe. And Tellamor being the forwardest, went to [...]d him, whom Argalt thus greeted. [Page] Knight, of whence art thou? or, Wherefore commest thou on this for­bidden ground?

Gyant, (qd. Tellamor) I come to def [...]e thée that vsurpest such priui­ledge to examine Passengers, and my intent is, in despight of thée, to keepe my standing on this Ground, which is free for all men. What is thy Quarrell (quoth Argalt,) I come (qd. hee) to re [...]eeme a Knight, whome contrary to equitie thou detaynest: and a Ladie, whose Lorde thou lately fluest, that dwelt in a Castle heereby. Argalt, hearing his spéeches, burst out into a laughter, saying.

Thinkest thou poore knight, to doo more then many thy betters could accomplish: No, Knowe thou art so farrre from attaining the least of thy desires, that thy selfe art like to beare them companie: Wherewith Tellamor ranne at him, and in the incounter burst his speare: Whom the Gyant valiant y resisted. Panuamus and Barzillus, regarding to performe no actes of Knightly Chiualrie, to him that was without re­gard of Humanitie, presently both at once with Tellamor assailed him, and within little space hadde brought him conformable to the mercie of their swords. When Argalt saw himselfe so shrewdly handled, and his life in that danger, he vttered these spéeches.

Ualiant Knightes, spare my life, that neuer yet offended you: and let me vnderstand wherein I haue done you wrong, and I will doe my best to make you restitution. Tyrant (qd. Panuamus) haddest thou a thousand liues, all of them could not make vs restitution for any of the least iniuries thou hast done vnto vs, but now thou seest thy self in dan­ger, thou treatest for pittie; When otherwise thou entendest nothing but violence: Thinkest thou our minds are so easily drawne to vse mer­cie towards thée, that hast fild the World with thy tyrannies, and yéel­dest no fauour to any that come within thy power? No, know wicked Homicide, that this is the last houre thou shalt breathe: Wherewith he aduanced his Sword to haue thrust it through him.

Argalt fearing his resolution, cried vnto him, to heare him speake, and said as followeth. Woorthy Knights (qd. he) before you finish my daies, know whom you put to death: I am not Brandamor whom you [...] me to bee, but his Brother: my name is Argalt, that neuer in my life offended you: therfore I beséech you spare my life, and whatsoe­uer you impose vpon mee, I will perform to my vttermost power. Bar­zillus hearing his spéeches, told Panuamus that hee might be a meanes to saue their further Trauell, if he would set the the Lady Madera, and [Page] Pollipus at libertie: therefore he thus said. Argalt, We know not how to trust a man of thy nature and disposition, which thinkest euery dis­loyall action lawfull to further thy diuellish driftes, and regardest ney­ther vertue nor Knighthood, but onely thy will: therefore if we should enioyne thée to any thing, thou wouldst disloyally break thy Oath, and soone forget what thou vowedst to vs to performe: and contrary to ho­nestie, rather betray vs to thy Treacherie: but if thou wilt saue thy life, assure vs to set at liberty the Lady Madera, and the worthy Knight Pollipus, and on that condition we will let thée goe frée. Argalt being glad of his spéeches, vowed and protested with infinite Protestations, to fulfill theyr request within thrée dayes, vpon which condition, they let him depart.

Algalt being gone, beganne to consider what promise hee had made them, and by what meanes he had escaped death, and how courteously vpon his Oathes they had saued his life, and gaue credence to his spée­ches: Which with intended resolution he purposed to accomplish, and being entred the Castle, comming to Brandamor (Wounded and faint with bléeding, he declared to him all that had happened) requesting his conset to accomplish theyr demaund, which hee had bound himselfe by Oath to performe. Brandamor hearing his Wordes, fell into a bitter rage against him, and vttered these spéeches. Why Brother (qd. hee) consider you not what daungers might ensue, if I should accomplish your request? and withall, doo you not remember the Ualour that is in this Knight Pollipus, which might by his Libertie bring vs all in dan­ger: As for the Ladie Madera, I regarde not, if I send her hence: For now I esteeme her Daughters beautie, which was the cause I haue so long time detained her: Then if you please, send her vnto them, and let them seeke the performance of the rest how they can: For what néede you regarde your Promise, being out of theyr danger? Argalt hearing his spéeches, perceyuing hee could perswade him no way, was content with that. And withall, being easily drawne sleightly to forget his so­lemne Oaths to them made, thought that Maderas releasement would satisfie them, and be more then he néeded to performe: Therefore he re­solued to send her to them presently, with a Message, and that Pollipus by no meanes could be set at libertie.

And coming to Madera, (who still continued in her her heauy dumps) he told her that her time of Libertie was come, and that shee should [...] no longer detained in that place. Madera at the first gaue little credence [Page] to his speeches, perceiuing hee meant as he spoke, thought that newes very Welcome, and so let her goe out at the Gate, only attended by her two Damzels, desiring her to tell the Knightes that sought her Liber­tie, that Pollipus could by no meanes bee released, but that they might speake with him if they would, whome they should sée at a Windowe, right ouer the Castle-bridge. Madera was soone espyed of Panuamus, who knowing her, with dutifull reuerence saluted her with his knée on the ground, whilest shée with Motherly teares reioyced to sée him. And being mette with Tellamor and Barzillus, shee declared to them what Argalt had said concerning Pollipus; Which when they hearde, they were exceedingly tormented with vexation of the Gyants disloyaltie: yet notwithstanding, setting all doubts apart, they determined to trye if the Giant ment true, that they might come to his spéech, which was some comfort to them: and though they knewe he would omit no op­portunitie to betray them, yet they went to the Bridge, (hauing a care­full respect to theyr danger:) Where according to Argalts message they found Pollipus, who knowing them, with great ioy Welcommed them with these spéeches.

Déere Friendes (qd. hee) you sée how I am inclosed by treacherous meanes, comming to rescue the faire Ladie Venola, Daughter to the King of Lybia: Here am I well vsed, therefore I pray tell mée the oc­casion of your arriuall in this place?

Most Noble Knight (qd. Tellamor) we reioyce at your health: We haue also found the vertuous Ladie Violetta, who remaineth in good health, at yonder Ladies Castle, hauing indured many miseries before she came thither. He had not scarce ended these words, but Barzillus espyed Brandamor, with six Knights in his companie, crossing the cha­nell that encompassed the Castle with a Boate, whome they were sure meant them no good: Thererfore they withdrue themselues from of the Bridge, the better to withstand him: Which Pollipus perceyuing, a thousand times wisht himselfe amongst them: being ready to teare the haire from his head with extreame vexation. Brandamor being Lan­ded, presently with his mightie Mace, set vpon them with great vio­lence, who to their vttermost endeuours resisted him most valiantly: but by reason of the great odds (for all the knights that were with him Assailing them) they were in short space sore Wounded, and brought to great distresse: Which Panuamus perceiuing, lefte his Mother, and [Page] came to theyr rescue, who likewise in short time by their cruell Fight, was grieuously Wounded, so that hee beganne with the rest to fainte, and dispaire of victory: notwithstanding they had [...]ine three of Bran­damors knights.

Whilest they continued in this Combat, Parismus by good Fortune (hearing by a Knight of Venolas imprisonment,) arriued there at the very instant, and espying theyr cruell Combate, perceyuing the Gyant by his huge proportion to bee one of them, and knowing Tellamor by his Armour, he suddenly rusht in amongst them, reaching so violent a blowe at Brandamor, that his Armour on his lefte Arme burst, and the bloud issued out at the entrance his Sword had made: and redoubting another blowe before Brandamor could lifte vp his mightie Mace, hee hit him so right vpon the Crest, that with the blowe, he made the Fire to flash out of his eyes.

Tellamor and Barzillus presently knewe the Prince by the fashion of his Armour, which againe so reuiued theyr dismayed Sences, that with great valour and resolution they renued the Fight against Bran­damors other thrée Knightes, whilest Parismus dealt most valiantly with the Gyant himselfe: Who felte his Prowesse to be such, as that it was euery way able to counteruayle and Cope with his great and mighty strength.

Pollipus still standing at the Window, saw and beheld when Pa­rismus came, who (by all likelyhood) he thought he knew to the worthy Prince of Bohemia, which stirred such a resolued courage in his heart, that with maine force he slue the Iaylors man his kéeper, and so raun­ged from Chamber to Chamber, vntill he came to the place where Ve­nola was, being continually attended and Guarded by ten Knightes: Whome Pollipus (nothing regarding his Nakednesse, desperately As­sayled with his Barre of yron, continuing so long Fight, and with such Courage, that hee had soone slaine the one halfe of them: and the other beeing terrified with his feare, fledde from him, and fast boulted and barred the Doore, with such strong deuises, that it was impossible for him to get out that way.

In which time, the cowardly Gardyants made such an horrible outcrye, that both Argalt, and all that remained in the Castle, present­ly Armed themselues: And some of them issued out to Brandamor, [Page] and immediately set vppon Parismus, and the rest, thinking by force to make them Prisoners: but contrary to theyr thoughts, they withstood them with greater courage, especially Parismus layde about him with such violence, that manie of them lost their liues by his strokes: But Brandamor still continued such egar pursuite against him, that he was most grieuously Wounded: Which so inraged him, that hee draue his Enemy to his vttermost shifts. Argalt being likewise issued out, with other in his companie, with theyr multitude, had slaine Barzillus, and brought Parismus to most extreame danger of his life; Who notwith­standing seeing Tellamor fallen downe, and vnder his enemies mercie, gathering courage a fresh, bestyrred him, and with his vndaunted and [...]raue Ualour, saued his life from a greaf number that assailed him.

In the meane time, Brandamor had respite to take new breath, but séeing now one of his Knights, and then another drop downe dead, by Parismus blowes, comming behinde the Prince, most like a cowardly Traytor, hée aduanced his Mace to haue strooken him: but ere the Gy­ants blow was descended, there came a Knight rushing his Speare a­gainst him, and most violently ouerthrewe him backwardes: Which done, drawing his Sword, and dismounting himselfe with great nim­blenesse and [...], set his foote in Brandamors necke, and had not Ar­galt preuented him, hee had parted his head from his shoulders: and likewise turning to Argalt, fallowed him with such violent pursuite, [...]nd draue at him, with such swifte and egar blowes, that he made him stagger and reele backwards.

Nowe beganne the Fight afresh, continuing with such furie, that my vnskilfull penne wanteth abilitie to describe. Parismus beholding so valiant a Champion come in his rescue, reuiued his courage, and al­though he were most grieuously Wounded, and neuer before in his life time brought to that extreame danger, yet his noble courage gathered such a new spirit, that brandishing his sword, and stepping from Tella­mor (who by his succour was well refresht) presently sent the Ghost of one of Brandamors Seruants to Hell, and after him another. In the meane time, most cruell fight continued betweene Brandamor and Ar­galt, against the new-come Knight, who both at once assayled him, till in the ende Argalt vnable to endure any longer, by reason of the grie­uous wounds he had receiued, with hideous grones gaue vp the ghost: the straunge Knight likewise, perceiuing the danger Parismus and the other two Knights were in, and how grieuously they were Wounded, [Page] with all his force, and adding courage to his strength, ranne with such violence at Brandamor with the poynt of his kéene sword, that ligh­ting on a broken place in his Armour, it pierced him into the shoulder­bone, where it stucke so hard, that he was compelled with a snatch to draw out the same, wherewith Brandamor let fall his mace, and this valiant Knight, with a carefull eye looking backe on Parismus, saw him fallen downe in a traunce, procured by the exceeding abundance of blood that issued from his wounds, and Brandamors seruants ready to make a finall end of his precious life: amongst whom hee rushed with such violence, that hee soone made them flye from their intent to saue themselues, insomuch that none of them durst come within compasse of his sword, but betooke themselues to flight, some one way, some an other: in which time Brandamor was gotten vnto the bridge, thinking to haue attained the Castle, which this Knight perceiuing, hasted af­ter him, and ouertooke him on the middest thereof, and with his sword gaue him foure or fiue mortall wounds. The Gyant perceiuing him­selfe so hard bested, and now fearing his euerlasting downfall, ran vp­pon this Knight, and with great force grapled him in his huge and boystrous armes, who being of an vndoubted courage, and fearing no force, got vnder the Gyant, and with long striuing and strugling, at last ouerthrew him against the rayles of the bridge, which being ro [...]ten, and not able to vpholde his weightie carkasse, falling with such force, burst, and he fell downe into the chanell. That done, this noble knight nimbly catching vp his sword, pursued other of Brandamors seruants, who fledde into the Castle, intending to shutte them out, but hee being warie to preuent such a mischiefe, slew the hindermost euen as he was entring the gate, that his dead body fell so right therein, that the other were thereby disapointed, and hee by that meanes got in, which they perceiuing, were so terrified with feare of him, that euery one of them fledde, and hid themselues from his sight. In which time Madera and her two maydes, seeing Brandamors ouerthrow, and all his seruants fledde, came to her Sonne, who of all the three was neerest death, to whom she gaue breath by pulling off his helmet. Her damzels likewise came to Parismus, whose beuer they lift vp, and withall gaue him fresh ayre, afterwards pulling off his helmet, hee came to himselfe againe, being fallen into that traunce by extreame heat, want of breath, and ef­fusion of blood, but by the Damzells indeauours was pretily recouered: and remembring himselfe, lookt earnestly about for the Knight that [Page] came in such prosperous time to his [...]scue, and neither séeing him nor the Gyant, he matnelled what was become of him, that raysing himselfe vp, he went with Tellamor towards the Castle gate, where he found that most valiant Knight breathing himself, whom Parismus embraced in his armes, saying: Most noble and couragious Knight, whose prowesse hath redeemed our liues, and destroyed our enemies, what prayses may I giue to your victory? with what thanks may I gratulate your courtesie towards vs, that onely by your happy arriuall and high Chiualrie, haue béene shielded from the tyranny of that cruell homicide, and cut him off from executing any more of his treacherie? If euer it may lye in my power, you shall both command me to requi [...] your kindnesse, and binde me to you in all the vndissoluable bonds o [...] true friendship.

This Knight thus replyed: I count my vndeseruing valour vn­worthy the least estimation, much lesse to deserue such thanks at your hands, who before my comming had so weakned my enemies, that it was an easie taske for me to accomplish his ouerthrow: but if it were in my power to performe any such déede as you ascribe to me, I would most willingly doe my best to pleasure you, who attribute that com­mendation to me, that by all right belongeth to your selfe. I thanke you most heartily (quoth Parismus) hereafter trusting to be both better acquainted with you, and of better abilitie to requite your kindnesse: by this time Madera had brought Panuamus to his sences, who was entred the Castle, being supported by his mothers two Damzels; for of himselfe he was not able to stand.

Parismus demaunded of Tellamor if hee knew him? My Lord (re­plyed Tellamor) this Knight is sonne to this auncient Lady, whome came hither with mee and the valiant Barzillus, to redeeme her that this day was Prisoner in this Castle, and by vs released, as I will de­clare to your Honour hereafter. In whose Castle (scituate not farre hence) remaines Violetta in good estate, and kindly vsed. And may it be (quoth Parismus) that Violetta is yet liuing, and in safetie? what ioy will that bee to Pollipus if hee might come to knowledge thereof, who no doubt is trauelled farre hence in her search? Not so my Lord (replyed Tellamor) Pollipus hath knowledge of her being there, who is Prisoner within this Castle, and to day was in good health. Then (quoth Parismus) what further cause haue we of sadnesse, but onely for the death of Barzillus,, whom I was euery way beholding vnto: [Page] which we must ouerpasse with forced patience, and let vs séeke out Pollipus,, who I know will reioyce to meete vs here: then turning to Panuamus, he most louingly embraced him, the like he did to Madera: and taking the Knight (whom vnknowne) by the hand, he desired his company to search for Pollipus, and the Lady Venola (whose imprison­ment was the cause of both their arriuals there) who willingly went with him: before their departure making fast the gate, that none could enter or goe out.

As they entred into the Hall, there were diuers of the Gyants Ser­uants, who willingly submitted themselues to their mercies. Paris­mus told them, if they meant faithfully he would no way offend them; which they assured him by many protestations. Then (quoth he) one of you direct vs to the place where the Lady Venola remayneth: but they made answere, We dare not come thither, for there is with her a Knight that hath slayne fiue of our fellowes, who likewise will vse vs no better, if we come within his reach. Well (quoth Perismus) come, I will be your warrant.

CHAP. XI.

THen Brandamors seruants conducted them to the Chamber doore, which was fastned with so many barres, that it was long before they could vndoo the same. Pollipus (as aforesaid) hauing slaine Veno­las Gardiants, & seeing that he could by no meanes get out, came to Venola, desiring her not to be dis­mayed to see his rudenesse: for (quoth he) there are diuers Knights in fight with the Gyant, amongst whom is the most valiant Prince of Bohemia, vnto whom I would willingly haue got­ten downe; for I greatly feare his death, being beset with the Gyant and a number of his seruants. Sir (quoth Venola) doe not thinke me one whit dismayed with your presence, but wish you all happy successe, and the ouerthrow of your enemies: and fortunate had that worthy Prince béene if hee had not arriued here, for Brandamor by his trea­chery no doubt will betray his life and libertie. [Page] Then both together stepping to the window, saw the combattants, and beheld the danger Parismus was in, and the comming of the strange Knight to his rescue, and withall, how valiantly hee ouerthrew the Gyant, which when he had seene, he thought in his fancy that hee had neuer before beheld so valiant and comely a Knight. And also noting the carefull regard he had of Parismus, hee exceedingly wondred what he might be, that his heart was drawne to so great affection towards him, entring into these spéeches:

Most fayre Princes, did you euer behold a goodlyer, or more valian­ter Knight then yonder is, who by his onely prowesse hath ouercome such enemies? doe you not behold how carefully and valiantly he hath rescued the Prince? which maketh me so much the more maruell what he should be; for neuer in my life did I before this see him: such valor, such courtesie and comelinesse, did I neuer behold in any; with the one, hee hath left his foes slaughtered; with the other, preserued the Prince.

Pollipus had no sooner ended his words, and Venola readie to make answere, but they heard some vnboulting the doore, which made him againe betake himselfe to his barre; but when he beheld Parismus and the rest entring, he ranne to him, embracing him with such kind­nesse as true and loyall friends might proffer: hee did the like to the strange Knight and the rest. Parismus séeing so beautifull a Lady in his company, so gorgeously attired, and attended by so many Damzels, thought that was the Princesse Venola, whom he most kindly saluted, whose heart melted into teares of ioy for her deliuery and their victory: after that, such courteous gréetings past on euery side, as would be te­dious to describe, but suppose them to bee such as proceeded from the depth of ioy. Presently Parismus, Tellamor, and Panuamus, were vnarmed to haue their wounds dreft, which taske the Lady Madera vndertooke, which when shee had performed, dinner was brought vp by Brandamors seruants, who had all submitted themselues to the Conquerours.

The strange Knight all this while was prouiding things neces­sarie, with as much diligence as might be, that allin generall wondred at his courtesie, who would not vnarme himselfe vntill hee had well ordered matters for their securitie, not trusting to the truth of Bran­damors seruants. And when they were ready to take their repast, Pa­rismus desired him to vnarme himselfe, and not longer to conceale [Page] what he was from their knowledge. (For Parismus thought him to be some Knight that knew him. Venola likewise thought him to be some Knight that sought her loue, but both were deceiued.) Now this Knight was the Knight of Fame, the occasion of whose comming thi­ther, shall be declared in the next Chapter, who beeing drawne by na­turall instinct, so much reuerenced Parismus, that he thought hee could not sufficiently expresse his loue towards him, and though hee neuer saw him before, yet such a secret impression of reuerence towards him, was stirred in his heart, that he desired nothing more, then to be gra­cious in his sight: and although he had not the least thought that Pa­rismus was his father, nor he one perswasion that the other might be his sonne, yet both of their hearts were stirred with an earnest and de­uoted expectation of friendship and neerenesse of acquaintance. And the Knight of Fame noting the others behauiour that Parismus was some great personage, hearing him to desire him to discouer himselfe, made this answere.

Right noble Knight, at your command I will vnarme my selfe, be­ing a farre borne stranger to this countrey, neither haue I any acquain­tance in this place, but by misaduentures forced to wander through the world, to seeke that which I haue not yet found, nor scarce know if I meet withall, being onely fortunate to arriue in this place, to make some, triall of my strength in your defence: which said, he presently vn­armed himselfe.

Parismus beholding his youth, beganne (withall the rest) to admire his valour, accompanied with such young yeeres, that embraced him in his armes, he could not by that courtesie expresse his good will to­wards him. The Knight of Fame likewise reuerently kissing Venolas hand, said. Most noble Lady, my comming to this place, was to set you at liberty, and also to reuenge the death of the courteous Knight Tyrides, sonne to the good Duke Amasenus of Thrace, vnto whom I am infinitly bound: that had I thousand liues. I would venture them all in his behalfe that now is dead. And seeing by the danger and valour of these Knights, you are set at liberty, and released from bon­dage, be of good comfort, for the King your Father will soone be heere, with thousands of knights to conduct you safely into Lybia, who at my last being in this Court, was made great preparation for this expecta­tion.

Venola made this reply: Courteous knight, I yeeld to you and this [Page] Noble Prince, all humble thankes for your kindenesse, beeing all the reward my Mayden estate can affoord: and for the newes you bring of my Fathers approache, that can yéelde no such quiet to my heart, as your happy victorie hath done: Which hath expeld those infinite trou­bles, wherewith I was on euery side compassed: and in stead of care, replenisht my heart with comfort. When these cerimonious saluti­ons were past, they went to Dinner. Pollipus diligently noted the Knight of Fame, his countenance, proportion, and gesture, thinking it his Fancie, he neuer saw a Knight more like Parismus: that his minde was inwardly styried with a great destre to knowe his Name and his byrth. After Dinner was ended, Parismus with Pollipus and Tella­mor, grewe into conference about Violetta: Determining the next Morning eyther to goe to the place where shee was, or else to fetch her thither, Venola shee continued in conference with the Lady Madera, entering into manie extéeding commendations of the valour of these thrée Knights, Parismus Pollipus, and the Knight of Fame: but the Knight of Fame withdrawing himselfe into a priuate place, reuolued his cares in these cogitations.

How vnfortunate am I of all Knightes liuing, to be tormented in such restlesse cares as daily torment me, and am subiect to so manie and innumerable Troubles, as none but my selfe could indure: First, my byrth and Parents vnknowne: next, my troubles in Thrace: and the taske imposed me by Venus, to finde out the Ladie shee shewed me in the Uiston: Whom I was in hope had bene the faire La [...] Venola, but contrary to my expectation, I am still allotted to endure more mi­series in her search.

Tush (qd. he) may not Venola be the Lady she meant, is she not faire Noble, & vertuous? May not I be deceiued by that vision, and so driuen to consume my time in purchasing my owne torment? Do not dreams often fall out false and vaine? Tut, Why doo I make these doubts? Ve­nola is faire, yet nothing comparable to the same I serue: Whose swéet Idea perfectly fixt in my remembrance. Venola is both noble and beau­tifull, yet the countenance of my beloued countermaundeth that noble­nes: And that vision cānot prooue fallible, neither can I account it my labour, if I endure a thousand miseries in her search, so that in the end I may obtain her heauenly sight. How shuld I come to any knowledge of her abode? Which way should I dyrect my steppes in her Search? Shall I first seeke my Parents, or shall I giue ouer my care for them, and imploy all my endeuours to finde her? Such a chaos of confused [Page] carres doe oppresse my senses, that I knowe not what to determine, whose counsell to follow, or what aide to implore. If I knew in what continent of the world she were harboured, then would I with some comfort direct my steps thitherwards: and shunne no danger though neuer so doubtfull, to purchase her good liking. Well, I will pacifie my selfe with constrained countenance, and patiently endure the hardest extremity. In these and such like complaints he spent some time, and afterwards came and accompanied Parismus and the rest, who spent that night in quiet, resoluing vpon other matters the next morning.

CHAP. XII.

AFter that the knight of Fame had wonne the chiefe honour of the triumph, in the Court of the king of Thrace, and had giuen away the Kings daughter to Remulus, with her Fathers consent therto, and the solemnization of the wedding past and performed with great royalty, the king calling to minde the valour of the knight of Fame, and how prodigally he gaue Phylena to another, whose beauty might haue satisfied a mighty Potentates liking: and withall, how little he regar­ded his heire, by which meanes afterwards, hee might haue come to the highest type of dignity, and to the high honour to bee King and Quéen of so mighty a nation: wondred what might moue him to refuse those offers: sometimes thinking it proceeded from want of wisdome: then againe he supposed, a Knight endued with such bountiful and rare gifts of prowesse, could not chuse but likewise enioy sufficient wisdome to consider the valew of such gifts. And entring into a further conside­ration thereof, he began to coniecture that he was sprung of some great personage which might be the cause thereof, and for that hee was vn­knowne, he thought that to be the very truth. Then againe he called to remembrance what Amasenus had told him, about his comming into that country, that he was by these thoughts grown into such a de­sire to be satisfied therin, that he sent for the Knight of Fame, and in the presence of the Queen, Amasenus, Remulus, Phylena, and al the assem­bly, of gallant knights that came to the triumph, he said as followeth. Worthy knight, whom I so much affect, that if it in my power lye, to doe you any more honour then I haue heretofore proffered, I would willingly do it, for you valour deserueth euerlasting commendations. [Page] I haue offered you my Daughter in marriage, and withall intended to haue adopted you my Sonne and heire, both which you haue refused, yeelding your interest in my daughter to Remulus, and therewith left the inheritage I adioyned to her marriage, which were both worthy of regard, for that such gifts are seldome giuen: which maketh me send for you, desiring to be satisfied for your comming in the one, and also to knowe of whence, and what you are, if I can without offence to you, obtaine the same.

The Knight of Fame made this reply. Most high and mighty King, I will vnfold the truth of all to satisfie your demand: I confesse your Maiestie did so much honour me, as my life shall bee alwaies ready at your command in quitall of the same: and your Princely gifts are of such estimation, as I confesse my selfe farre vnworthy to possesse them: but that they might haue beene bestowed of the greatest Potentate in the world, which I neither refused, nor lightly esteemed, but alwaies regarded, as of precious and inestimable valew: not drawne thereto by any want of consideration of their worthinesse, but for the honoura­ble respect I beare to loyalty. For should I haue presumed to haue wed your Princely daughter, I should haue done her great iniurie, and thereby parted the vnited hearts of true and loial friends. For pleaseth your Maiesty, at the first I intended with a ioyfull heart to haue clay­med my interest in that sweet Princesse loue: but I was commanded the contrary by an vndoubted meane, (which if it so please you, I will in priuate vnfold) as also perceiuing the true friendship betwixt her and that noble knight Remulus, past with consent of both their harts: I should haue esteemed it either in my selfe or in any other, an acte of great dishonour and impietie, to part those firmed bands of friendship, which if I had dissolued might haue turned their sweet intent into dis­contented miserie, neither could I so rudelie presume to challenge in­terest in so sweet a Ladies loue without desert, which is not attained by armes, but by loyaltie: which was the cause that I yeelded my interest vnto him, that had taken possession in her gentle heart, before my comming: and for my birth, I know not my Parents, but the truth of all that is manifest to me, the noble Duke Amasenus hath made you priuie vnto.

The King hearing his answer, greatlie commended his honourable minde, saying: Thou worthy knight, if there bee any meanes left wherein I may pleasure you, doe but aske, and you shall assuredly ob­taine [Page] whatsoeuer it bée, for which kinde and kingly proffer, the knight of Fame with all humanitie gaue him thankes.

Whilest they were in this Communication, there suddenly entred into the Hall, foure Knightes in mourning Attyre, carrying on theyr shoulders a Coffin couered with blacke, by theyr countenances preten­ding the discouerie of some tragicall euent. The King of Thrace see­ing this sadde Spectacle, greatly maruelled of whence they should bee, and what heauie Newes they hadde brought? And they being come to the place where the King was, setting downe their Hearse, spake as followeth.

Most High and Mightie King of Thrace; Wee are Knightes be­longing to the King of Lybia: Who kindely gréeteth your Maiestie by vs, requesting you to take no offence at our rude Message, the occa­sion whereof is this. It is not vnknowne, that the King our Lorde hath but one onely Daughter, named Venola: Who on a day riding foorth on Hunting, being by a Tempest seuered from her Traine, (bee­ing accompanied by many Knights, amongst whome was Tyrides, a Knight of Thrace, vnto whose custodie the King committed her,) and was vnawares surprized by the Gyant Brandamor, (that dwelleth in a Castle in the Forrest of Arde,) and by him by violence carryed away: Whome the Noble knight Tyrides pursued, but the Gyant (too migh­tie a Foe for him to cope withall) slue him, and so conueyed the Prin­cesse into his Castle: Whose corps wee haue (according to our Kings commaund) brought hether.

Amasenus hearing this sadde report, ranne vnto the dead bodie of his Sonne, breathing foorth such Lamentations, that it would haue made the very Rockes to haue rent at his sorrowes: Whom the king comforted by all possible meanes hee could, but griefe for his Sonnes vntimely death, ouer-whelmed and opprest his heart with such Passi­ons of desperate care, that hee fell into an extreame Sicknesse, which his olde-Age not being able to out-weare) within fewe dayes after en­ded his life.

Amasenus death (who was generally beloued) turned their myrth into sorrowe, and theyr Ioy into sadde preparation for mournfull Fu­neralls, for the two dead Knightes: Which was afterwardes perfor­med in most stately manner. The Knight of Fame séeing his déerest Friende Amasenus dead, hearing of Venolaes Imprisonment, resol­ued in requitall of some parte of Amasenus his Friendship, to reuenge [Page] Tyrides death on the Gyant: besides his minde was affected with such a desire to sée the Ladie Venola, that giuing no respite to delay, hee pre­sently after the right of Amasenus Funeralls was performed, made his intent knowne to the King, and with all Reuerence tooke his leaue of him. Likewise, diuers that came to the triumph, and still remained in the kings Court, being growne into great familiarity with the Knight of Fame: and desirous to make tryall of their valour against the Gy­ant, departed likewise toward Lybia, With the Knights that brought the dead bodie of Tyrides, amongst whome was the King of Arragon, named Archilacus, Guydo of Thrace, Trudamor of Candie, Drio of Scicile, and Tristamus, one of the thrée brethren, and within thrée dayes arriued in Lybia; Where the King hearing of their intent, and cause of comming, entertained them most Roially.

The Knight of Fame remained in the Court of the King of Lybia, some two dayes: Where his entertainment was most courteous and honourable; Which might haue drawne a resolute determination to haue taken delight therein: But hée thought all time, though entertai­ned with all varieties of pleasure, tedious: All delicate fare and costly banquetting, superfluons: and all company wearisom: hauing his co­gitations opprest with care, his minde filled, meditating on his Ladies swéete Beautie: and his heart thyr [...]ing for reuenge of Tyrides death, respect no pleasure, nor affecting no delight, but to find some knowledge of his vnkinde Mistrisse, making preparation to besiege Brandamor, and thirsting for honor, secretly departed towards the Forrest of Arde, Where he arriued most fortunately, to preserue his Princely Fathers life, (though to him vnknowne) as is declared in the former Chapter.

CHAP. XIII.

PArismus, the Knight of Fame, and all the rest, being in Brandamors Castle, began with good aduisement to determine what to doe, and at last concluded, because Parismus and Panuamus were grieuously Wounded, and thereby not able to endure Trauell, they should staye [Page] and with them the Knight of Fame, to Guarde Venola: Pollipus and Tellamor, should depart towards Panuamus Castle, who taking kinde Fare-wells of Parismus and the Knight of Fame, betooke themselues to theyr Iourney, towardes the place that harboured theyr chiefest de­lights. Pollipus being drawne with an excéeding desire to sée his con­stant Ladie Violetta, from whence hee had bene long time seuered, and to recreate his Sences, ouer-rulde with care, in the swéete solace of her pleasant companie: The remembrance of which delight, filled his hart with excéeding affectionate content. Tellamor likewise had taken such a surfet with beholding Clarinas swéete Beautie, that no Physicke but her beauty could cure the same, neither could a thousand perills detaine him from thence: Which hopefull conceyte, fedde his heart with in­ward delight, that in these Meditations, entermingled with pleasaunt communications, they spent theyr time vntill they were come neare to the Castle: Where within short time they arriued; And dismoun­ting themselues, they came to the Porter: Who knowing Tellamor, admitted their entrance; Being conducted in by some of the Seruants into the Hall, and asking for the Ladie Clarina, the Wayting-mayde tolde them that shée was in the Garden, accompanied by Violetta, offe­ring to conduct them to the place.

Nay (quoth Tellamor,) fare Damzells, I pray let vs goe alone: With that Pollipus and hée entred the Garden, and espying where they were seated vpon a gréene Bancke in communication; And pa­cing softly towards the place, they sheltred themselues from their sight, by a Rose-bush that was close by them, and hearde theyr conferences, which was this: Violetta leaning sadly vpon her Elbowe, her counte­nance bearing shew that a multitude of cares possest her hart, and Cla­rina was seated a little distance off, tearing and dismembring the swéet Flowers that she had carelesly cropt from theyr stalkes. Violetta an­swering to some spéech that Clarina had before vttered, saide. Yea my misfortunes haue bene too extreame, and such as I thinke no creature e­uer bid the like, but my most vnhappy self: Which now being ouerpast, would soon be banisht frō my remébrance, might I once enioy the sight of my déere knight Pollipus, which hope hath bene the onely preseruer of my life. Oh (qd. Clarina) happy and ten times more then happie, in my infancie are Ladies that are Wedded to such constant knights: but I feare mee, there are too many of the contrarie part: But I wish my Brother, and these two other courteous Knightes, such good successe, [Page] as to set him at libertie, so that I might behold him, whom you so high­lie commend.

Yea, (qd. Violetta) that would be a happie day to mée, but I great­lie misdoubt, that will not suddainly come to passe, and I haue bene so often crost in my desire, that my doubtfull heart will not suffer mee to entertaine the least conceit of such felicitie: Which saide, the Teares in aboundance fell from her eyes: Which caused Clarina to doo the like, and wept for co [...]anie. Pollipus hearing Violettaes spéeches, and seeing her Teares, could no longer withholde himselfe, but in­treated Tellamor to discouer himselfe, and comming towardes them, both of them espying them, at the first maruelled what they shuld be, but Violetta knowing Tellamor, thought the other had beene Barzil­lus. Tellamor comming to Clarina, gréeted her ruddie Lippes with a swéete kisse, saying. Most vertuous Ladie; Wee bring you happie Newes, of the safetie and releasement of your good Friendes, and the death of Brandamor.

Violetta well noting the other Knightes Shielde, had a mightie perswasion, that by his Deuise [...]ee should be Pollipus; Withall, mar­king his Proportion, her Heart sometimes fainted, and sometimes a pale colour appeared: Which straight was ouerspredde with a Rostate blush, and such perplexities; One while of Ioy, and other while of sor­rowe, ouer-whelmed her heart, that the [...]rinish salte teares ouer-flow­ed her Eyes, and shée turned backe to Wipe them off, thinking to haue concealed the same. In which time Pollipus had vnbuckled his Helme, and discouered himselfe.

Violetta hauing Wiped off the deaw of her Salte tearés, lifting vp her head espied him; Which sudden ioy f [...]lled vp her sences, that she fell into his arms, not being able to vtter a word: whilest he louingly em­braced her, re [...]ining her sences, with many swéete kisses. Which done, he said; Welcome my sw [...]ete delight: After so many cares, let vs now bid [...]ue to griefe, and forget sad mischances.

[...]y deare Knight (quoth Violetta,) my Trauells are now conuer­ted to carefull quiet Re [...]t, and the conclusion of my miseries so swéete, as all the Worldes ioyes cannot be compared therewith. Since that I haue my déere Loue folded within the circuite of my Embrace, since I enioy your Companie, which I haue long time wanted: since after my griefes, I am possest with such delightfull felicitie; Whose Pleasure [Page] may be compared to mine? What delight may equall my conten [...]? My care is banisht to comfort: Woe with Weale is controld: Paine con­quered by pleasure; Ioy vnited with ioy: and Pleasure with delight possesse my heart.

Which Words being ended, she entertained him with such a swéete Labyrinth of kinde Welcomes, that it would haue rauisht a disconten­ted heart, with surfetting content to beholde the same: Which ended, Pollipus with great kindenesse saluted Clarina, and hauing not yet sa­tisfied his Fancie with ioy of Violettaes Welcome, Sight, and sweete presence, he led her aside, delighting in each others company, with inex­plicable content.

Which sorted to Tellamors desire: Whose heart was inflamed with Louesburning fire, that comming to Clarina, with a submisse ge­sture, tooke her by the precious bande, saying: Most vertuous Ladye, How happie are those that enioy such content, as these two louers em­brace; Which maketh mée estée me my selfe vnfortunate, that haue not yet tasted those delights, but haue bene tormented with Louers restles desire; neither could I euer settle my Fancie to entertaine that diuine Deitie, vntill I behelde your Beauty, which hath tyed my heart in the strickt bands of Loues obseruance, which hath seized my hart with vn­woonted Passions, procured by the entire affections of my earnest deuo­tion to your perfections, that I humblie sue to your courtesie for pittie to my cares, beseeching you to conceiue aright of my meaning, and to moderate my grifes with the sweet salue of your clemency. I presume thus boldly to commit my passions to your remembrance, procured by my restlesse desire, to be acceptable in your sight. I cannot beast of loy­alty, because hitherto you haue had no triall of my truth, nor any cause to commend my desert, because the want of meanes to be imploied hath kept me from performing any such duties: but I protest and promise as much as any true heart dare affirme, or the constantest friend may performe: therefore I beseech you sweet Mistresse, grant your seruant some fauour, wherewith to comfort his poore heart, which hath deuo­ted it selfe euerlastingly to your obedience.

Clarina hearing his speeches, hauing before growne into some good liking of them, and hauing some sparkes of infant loue kindled in her breast, and beeing somewhat willing to yeeld to loues assault, [Page] yet doubting his constancy, made this answer. Good seruant, what further fauour doe you require, then that which I haue already gran­ted? For such passions as you speake of, I know not what they are: and withall, I thinke such sudden loue cannot proceed from any firme foundation: neither could I wish you to make any such protestations or promises to mee, that am neither worthy thereof, nor expect any such, beeing the ordinary speeches of light Louers: with which I pray trouble not my quiet sences, for it cannot pleasure you, to di­sturbe my cogitation with loues vanities, when you your selfe are farthest off from the least respect of loyalty: therefore as I haue vouch­safed you the fauour which with modesty I can afford, I pray r [...]st con­tented therewith.

I but deare Mistresse (quoth hee) loue which you terme vanity, is of such power, that it bringeth the free mindes subiects to her obe­dience, who hath taken such full possession of my heart, that no misery or torment can remoue the same: then I beseech you, impute not me to be one of them that entertaine loue of custome, but let your clemen­cie conceiue a better opinion of my sute, which is grounded vpon the firmest foundation of perfect loialty: and though I confesse the fauour which you haue alrearie granted me, is more then I haue deserued, or euer shall be able to requite, yet extend your courtesie so farre, as to consider of my Affection, that it may mooue your gentle heart to yéelde me Loue: Foor otherwise I assure you my life without that will be but grieuous, and my sorrowes so excéeding, that in the ende, you will re­pent the crueltie you vsed: but I trust your Uertues will not containe such rigour, but according to the courteous Pietie that aboundeth in your gentle heart, you will yéelde my humble Request; Which shall both shewe your pittie, and binde mee to you in all bondes of perfect Constancie.

Clarina thus Answered him againe. Well Seruant, your requests pierce so déepe into my breast, that I promise you this further fauour, that according as I [...]de your deserts, I will giue credite to your spee­ches: and in the meane time, take this comfort, that none shall remgue my good liking from you, vntill my selfe finde you false.

Tellamor hearing the sweete content of those Nectar-breathing Wordes, ended the rest of his spéech vppen her Lippes: Which Pol­lipus nor Violetta had no time to take notice of, being themselues euery [Page] way delighted with as swéete content: And afterwardes comming all together, they went into the Castle, (delighting eache in others swéete companie, especially Clarina, began to conceiue such good liking of her seruant Tellamor, that she tooke no other felicitie, but onely in his sight; Where Pollipus declared to Clarina, their happy victory, and how that it was Maderaes will she should depart with them to Brandamors Ca­stle: Which shee willingly yéelded vnto, the rather thereby to enioy Tellamors companie: and so the Night approching, Pollipus, and his sweet Violetta betooke themselues to their rest: and Tellamor and Cla­rina to theyr seuerall lodgings: Whose heartes wisht themselues the like happy content, they knewe the other two should enioy, i [...] their Ho­nour would haue permitted them.

Early the next Morning, the departed towards the Forrest of Arde, being accompanyed by twenty trustie Seruants belonging to Clarina, passing away the time in many delightfull speeches. Two of Clarinas Seruants by occasion stayd behinde the rest of their companie, and as they were newly entred the Forrest, they espyed the Gyant Brandamor crossing the way; Which draue them into such feare, that like men be­ [...]traught of their Wits, they fledde from him. Brandamor séeing that, pursued them, vntill hee ouertooke one of them, and slue him, the other making the more haste, ouertooke his Companie, being so affrighted, that for a good space he could not vtter his minde: Which draue them all into an admiration; Afterwards breathing, he said that the Gyant Brandamor was aliue, and had slaine one of his fellowes. Pollipus, hea­ring his spéeches; Wondred whence they should procéede: for that hée and all the rest thought the Gyant had beene drowned, wherein they were deceyued, for hee hauing receiued the Fall by the Kinght of Fame, with much adoo scrambled out of the water, which was not déepe enough to drench his huge bodie, but giuing some credite to the Fellowes spée­ches, Pollipus and fiue or sixe of the seruants went backe with him, and presently espied Brandamor, bearing in his hand a strong young plant which he had pluckt vp by the root, for his Weapon; Who séeing Pol­lipus and his company, knowing him, would haue fledde: but Pollipus ouertaking him, beset him with such strickt besiege, that notwithstan­ding he layd about him with his mighty staffe, hée soone brought him to his subiection, causing his Armes to be fast bound with cordes. And in that sort they draue him before them, vntil they arriued at his Castle; Whither they were kindely welcommed by Parismus, who reioiced to see Pollipus and Violetta, so happily met againe.

[Page] And séeing Brandamor, they all both maruelled how hée had escaped death, and were glad they had him againe, to be reuenged in more se­uere maner, for the outrages he had done them.

The Knight of Fame noting the excéeding ioy of Parismus and Pol­lipus for Violettaes safetie, and of Panuamus with his Mother and Si­ster Clarina. And noting Tellamors merrie conntenance (procured by a great hope to attaine Clarinaes loue) was drawne to a sadde remem­brance of his owne misfortune, that was enioyned to a Taske, to finde his Parents, and the Ladie to whose seruice he was Dedicated: vnto whose beauty he was become so enthralled, that his hart could harbour no conceyt of ioy, but onely in meditating of her perfections; Which by absence, bred thousands of cares in his troubled head. And withall, hee noted the Princesse Venolaes pensiuenesse: Whose affections hee thought should best agrée with his sadnesse, that he accompanied her in many communications.

Word was brought them the Castle was round begyrt with Soul­diers: Which the Knight of Fame hearing, desired that he might goe out to Parley with them, to know whether they were Friends or foes? Which they all gaue consent vnto: Who arming himselfe, went foorth gallantly mounted, and found that it was the King of Lybia, who be­fore hauing some knowledge of the Knight of Fame, knew him againe by his Armour, maruelling to sée him (contrarie to his expectation) to issue out of his Castle.

The Knight of Fame comming towards him, saide; Most mightie King, I as one of the Gardiants of this Castle, (hauing by the ouer­throw of the Gyant Brandamor) Conquered the same, yéelde the same into your handes.

The King hearing his spéeches, most louingly embraced him: say­ing, Noble Knight, the report I haue heard of your Knightly Prow­esse, are verified in this noble Attempte, that haue subdued that hate­full contemner of honour; Which none but your selfe could haue so va­liantly performed.

Noble King (qd. hee) heere is within this Castle the most famous Prince of Bohemia; Whose hardinesse and vaiour before my approch, had so much weaknened the Tyrants power, that my Taske was easie to subdue him. The King hearing that, Wondred what occasion had drawne Parismus into those parts: Of whom hee had had knowledge in Thessalie.

[Page] The King of Lybia, accompanied by Archillachus, with diuers of his knights was conducting by the Knight of Fame into the Castle, to the exceeding ioy of Venola, who with humble reuerence fell prostrate at his feet: he comming to Parismus, saluted him with great courtesie, who likewise returned him the salutation, and to the yong Archilachus, and after that euery one in most kind and courteous manner saluted each o­ther, spending the rest of the day in such content as the place yeelded.

CHAP. XIIII.

THE next morning Brandamor was brought into the Hall, before the whole assembly of States, to whom Parismus said; Disturber of peace, the the time of punishment draweth nigh, therefore de­clare to whom thou art prisoner, for but one was thy Conquerour, at whose hands thou maist re­ceiue reward according to thy desert. Brandamor made this reply. I yéelde my selfe thrall to that strange Knight, by whose valour I was conquered: otherwise, not all the force the King of Lybia hath brought, would haue preuailed a­gainst me. The Knight of Fame hearing his words, said. Since thou hast yeelded thy selfe to me, I surrender my interest vnto this Prin­cesse Venola, who may at her pleasure dispose of thee as she shal thinke good. Venola hearing the Knight of Fames words, yéelded him thanks: desiring the King her Father to appoint his punishment, who caused him that day in the presence of them all, to bee drawne in peeces by horses: which done, the King of Lybia came to Parismus, reque­sting him before his returne into Bohemia, to soiourne some fewe daies with him, which hee kindly accepted, with whom Pollipus, the Knight of Fame, and Violetta likewise departed: Panuamus [Page] staied still with his Mother in Brandamors Castle, which by consent of all was giuen to him, in recompence of the iniuries hee had sustai­ned.

Tellamor seeing all things fall out contrary to his liking, could not deuise what m [...]nes to vse to stay behinde, to enioy Clarinas company, without the which, it was impossible for to enioy a­nie quiet: and casting in his minde all deuises he thought fittest, at last he fained himselfe extreamely sicke, which he performed so cun­ningly, that although they had suspected his drifte, yet they could hardly haue espied his pollicie: by which meanes Parismus left him behinde, vpon his faithfull promise to come to him at such time as he was to depart from Lybia. The King of Lybia with great ioye, (hauing such noble and valiant knights in his company) where hee was most ioyfully entertained by his Nobles, who hearing that Venola was released by the valour of onely two Knights, (which was Parismus and the Knight of Fame) applauded their victorie with great praises, and deuised all the meanes they could to increase their honourable entertainement. Likewise the Queene vsed many courtesies towards them, in requitall of their kindenesse: where were Feastings, Banquetings, Maskes, and Triumphes, performed by the Knights there assembled, with exceeding pompe and pleasure: the chiefest honour whereof, redowned to the Knight of Fame, where­by his Fame is spread into most places of the world. Venola noting his exceeding valour and beautie, and withall, how much his splen­dant Fame was extold in euery mans meuth, in recompence of the trauelles hee hadde endured to set her at liberty, vsed such ex­traordinary kindenesse towards him, as hee might well haue per­ceiued to proceede from an vniuersall liking: and beholding the gifts of nature that abounded in him, shee beganne to bee intangled in Loues bands, offering exceeding kindenesse to demonstrate the af­fections to him, to the intent hee should perceiue the same: which when shee saw tooke no such effect as she desired, it rather increased he [...] desire, then any way mittigated the same: that shee that hadde before refused many Kings sutes, was now enthralled by her owne choice: and to such a one as made no sh [...]we or signe of such de­uoted kindnesse as shee expected in him. For not many daies after, shee vsed that extraordinary behauiour, which many beganne to note, thinking the same had beene procured by his sute, but hs con­trarilie [Page] was nothing so affected, but his senses were so benumm [...] with contemplating the perfections of his vnknowne Mistresse, that Venolas kindenesse (which many would haue taken as high [...] ­nours) were bedewed in vaine, which in time thee well percei­ued, maruelling that he could not vnderstand her meaning: which agrrauated her desires, that they grew as a burning flame which so melted her yeelding heart, that nothing could [...]cke in her fancie, but how to giue him knowledge of her good will: that by the occurrence of these passions, she beganne altogether to delight in solitarinesse, vn­lesse it were in his company. The time of Parismus departure beeing come, (which was appointed the next morning) Venola was drawne into an exceeding feare, least that the knight of Fame would goe with him, that shee began to deuise what meanes to vse to stay him, which she could by no meanes of her selfe inuent, which draue her to her wits ende, and in great heauinesse complaining in her Chamber, casting her selfe vpon her bedde, she vttered these complaints. What misery may be compared to the torments I endure, procured by loue which hath entangled me in her snares, and setled my liking on a stranger, that as carelesly regardeth my good will, as I earnestly affect his perfections? What extremity is this, that my vnlucky destinies haue allotted me, to refuse the offer of many Kings, that haue humbly sued for my loue, and to make choise of one that maketh least account of my kind­nesse? For it cannot be, but he perceiueth my loue, which being so, how discourteous is he that in all this time will not yeelde mee any recom­pence for the same? Peraduenture he seeth nothing in me worth the li­king, or else my beauty is not such, as many flatteringly haue perswa­ded me it is. Am not I a Kings daughter, and he peraduenture borne of meane parentage? and what dignity might he come to by my loue? but all this he regardeth nat, but being rudely brought vp, according to that rudenesse, cannot conceiue of my liking. But what meane I [...]o disgrase the Knight, whose courte [...] maketh him beloued of all, whose comelinesse maketh him liked of all, and whose vaiour maketh him honoured of all: who hath no doubt, already placed his affections on some beautifull Lady, and that is the cause of his strangenesse, yea that is the thing that hindreth my ioyes: for without his loue I can attaine no quiet, which now I am likewise like to lose by his de­parture, which I feare me will be too soone: which words being ended, [Page] such passions ouerwhelmed her heart, that her eies burst into [...]eares, and there she lay vpon her bedde, tumbling with torment of those rest­lesse passions.

Whilest shee continued her sorrowes, in comes Flauia her nurse, who by espying her cheekes bes [...]eered with teares, and her sad coun­teuance, maruelling what should procure the same, said, My sweete Mistresse, how hapneth it that you weepe thus? Who hath done you wrong? Or why doe you torment your sweet selfe with this sadnesse? Deare Lady tell me? O Nurse (quoth Venola) my owne folly hath procured me this disquiet: and my selfe being the cause, whom should I blame but my selfe? Why Lady (quoth shee) what haue you done? What is the matter? Haue you done your selfe any harme? Why should you conceale any thing from me, that haue all your life long lo­ued you as dearely as my owne heart? My sweete daughter hide nothing from me: but tell me why you marre those your prettie eies with such sorrow? Why (quoth Venola) what should it auaile my to tell you, when I know you cannot helpe me: if I should declare it to you, and by that meanes come to my fathers knowledge, it would be more grieuous to me then death: then good Flauia, doe not seeke to know my cause of care, but let me consume my selfe in silence, when I haue no other meanes of remedy. Flauia hearing her words, was the more desirous to know what the matter was, sometimes weeping, sometimes intreating her to tell to her, and sometimes protesting that shee would rather endure any torment, then reueale the same: that Ve­nola wonne with her perswasions, teares, and protestations, and with­all desirous of comfort, imparted her whole minde vnto her: desiring her to be both secret and trusty: and withall, asked her counsell how she might stay him from departing wich the Prince of Bohemia. Lady (quoth Flauia) since you haue imparted your minde to me, I will both secretly keepe your counsell, and diligently labour to stay his iourney at this time. I but (quoth Venola) I pray thee doe it so, that he may no way perceiue that it was by my procurement. Let mee alone for that (said shee) and in the meane time cast you off those cloudy cares, and get you downe amongst the rest of those Ladies, with a merrie countenance, and commit the care to me, which I will effect to your liking.

Venola beeing somewhat reuiued with Flauias promise, with a merrie heart forsooke her Chamber. Flauia went about her busi­nesse [Page] going into the Citie with all haste, where dwelt an ancient A­pothecary, a very friend of hers to whom she durst commit any secret, whom shee desired to compound certaine of his drugges together, and to make a somniferous Potion, which would cause him sleepe for foure and twenty houres, in such sort, that the party might by no meanes be awakened, promising if he could make a confection, to reward him rich­lie. The Apothecary hearing her words, tolde her that if shee would stay, he would compound such a drinke as should euery way worke the same effect shee desired. Flauia hauing attained her desire that way, came to a Goldsmith and bought a most curious wrought bottell of golde, whereon shee caused him to ingraue these Letters.

And hauing gotten euery thing according to her desire, returneth to the Court, and the time of rest drawing nigh, she wrought such meanes that she had the appointment of the knight of Fames lodging, where she laide the bottle (in which time she had put the somniferous potion) so right in his way, that he could not chuse but finde the same, intending that if she failed of her purpose, yet she would worke such meanes, that she would giue it him in the morning.

The Knight of Fame all that day kept company with Parismus, vn­to whom his heart bare an inward loue, determining to bring him to­wards Bohemia, and after to trauell in search of his Parents. Parismus likewise was growne into such loue of his qualities, and [...]ch a hidden desire to pleasure him, was stirred in his heart towards him, that hee vsed him with such an extraordinary kindenesse, as the friendship that past betwixt them, seemed vnseparable.

Thus the day being spent, euery one betook them to their lodgings: the Knight of Fame comming to his lodging, walking by and downe lighted on the bottle, and noting the same, tooke it vp and espying the [Page] verses, read the contents, which draue him into many cogitations how the same should come there: at last, among many other thoughts, he déemed by the contents of the verses, he was the man that should taste thereof. Then he beganne to feare lest it might be some poison laid on purpose to betray his life, but that suspition was soone extinguished, the de [...]e he had to finde ease to his doubts, which the contents of the superscription promised: that tasting a little of the liquor, and fin­ding the same pleasant, being perswaded that it was conueied by some diuine operation to procure content, he dranke it quite off, and present­ly went to his bedde: which when Flauia saw, with a ioyfull heart she went to Venola, and declared vnto her what she had done, and after­wards leauing Venola to her selfe, she came to an old acquaintance of hers, who at her request wrote a letter to Parismus in the name of the Knight of Fame: which the next morning shee deliuered to him, the contents whereof were these.

Parismus reading the Letter, maruelled what occasion had with­drawne him, but being therewith contented, and trusting accordingly to see him in Bohemia, he made no other speech of him, but taking his leaue of the King and Queene, hauing in his campany Pollipus, and Violetta, with some 40. Knights of Lybia, he departed towards Bo­hemia; Tellamor all this while remained in the Forrest of Arde, in company of his deare M. Clarina, so cunningly handling his businesse, that none could perceiue but that he was very sicke indeed: in which time Clarina was his Physitian, carefully tending him, and vsing a most extraordinary diligence, whose company was more pleasant to him then any thing else: that therewith and other sweet fauours he re­ceiued from her kindenes, he forgot his sicknes, and prosecuted his loue which in time of his sicknesse had that good issue, that Clarina was [Page] no lesse tyed in the bandes o [...] Loue, then hee was. And vpon a time, when Clarina was in her chamber vnaccompanied by any, he amongst other kindnesses, vttered these speeches. My swéete M. (quoth hee) how much is your poore seruant beholding vnto you, that haue so ten­derly regarded me, and taken such infinite paines about me, which ma­keth me so much bound vnto you, that my life is, and shall beforeuer dedicated to deserue this kindnesse: besides the affection which I beare to your diuine excellencies, maketh mee presume to prosecute my sute vnto you, thereby to bring my selfe further into your debt: desiring you to yeelde pitty to my distresse, and ease to my restlesse passions, procu­red by your beautie, which if you withhold, soone will care consume my wearie life: neither can my heart attaine to any quiet or content, with­out your loue, which I more esteeme then either life or other thing that Ienioy: therefore sweet M. deferre my sute no longer, but now extend your fauour to my distresse, and grant me loue for my loue, whereon my chiefest felicity dependeth. Good seruant, (quoth Clariana) were I assured of thy constancie, soone shouldst thou know my mind, but some crosse or misfortue will soone alter they affection, and so thou wilt leaue me in distresse: then what miserie may I incurre by granting to thy sute? Sweet M. (quoth Tellamor) if euer Knight were true, then will your poore seruant prooue trustie: if euer heart harboured constan­cie, then be you assured, that constant loue possesseth my heart: for so intire are my deuotions to remaine immooueable, that no misfortune, calamitie, &c. shall cause me falsifie my faith, but rather let all plagues and vnfortunate miseries light vpon my head. Clarina hearing his spéeches, made this reply. Well deare seruant, since I see thy faithfull­nesse and how diligent thou hast beene to winne my fauour, I yeelde both my loue and my selfe into thy possession, which heereafter account as thine own to dispose of: and bee thou assured notwithstanding my strangenesse, my loue hath euery way equalled thy affections, and with so free a heart I giue my life and loue into thy hands, as willingly as thou desirest to haue the same. Tellamor hauing receiued this assurance of her loialty, to reuiue his sences withall, entertained that comfort, and her sweet presence with great delight, leauing off his sute, and spending the time in impracings. Many daies continued these true louers in great pleasure, being growne to that familiaritie, that often times such kind fauours past betwixt them, that Clarina ouercome vp his intreaties, yéelded vp her fortres of virginity vnto him: oftentimes [Page] frequenting each others companie, in that kinde sort [...] their [...] pleasure with great delight, vntill the newes of Parismus re­turne came to their knowledge, (and Tellamor bound thereto by oath, [...] needes depart) which strooke an extreame saddenesse to both their hearts. But especially Clarina tooke the same so heauily, that no perswasion could adde com [...]ort to her heart. The remembrance of whose departure, ouerc [...]e her with such passions of griefe, that be­ing in her Chamber alone, shee vttered many mournefull plaints, and withall such aboundance of teares, that a heart of the har­dest Adamant, would haue resolued at her lamentations: to ease which griefe, she deui [...]ed how to enioy his company if it were possible, to the last houre of his departure, and by the counsell of one of her Da [...]zels named Ancilla, shee wrought such meanes that she enioyed his company that night.

Tellamor beeing a Knight of honourable conditions, laboured all that hee could to leaue her contented, and performe his faithfull promise to Parismus: then before his departure taking his leaue o [...] Madera and Panuamus, who so well liked his company, that they were vnwilling to leaue the same. After which he went to bedde, thinking to take his [...]rewell of Clarina, be [...]imes in the mor­ning, when none but themselues should bee priuie thereto: but shee poore Lady, being [...] fettered in the snares of loue, hauing contri­ued euery thing for her security: when hee was in his dead sleepe, approached to his bed side, with a cleare burning Taper in her hand where shee stood a great while, beeing vnwilling to interrupt his quiet sleepe, reuoluing many thoughts in her troubled head. At last shee could not choose but touch his manly hand, which hung o­uer the beddes side, wherewith shee awaked him, who being scarce­lie out of his dro [...]e sleepe, espying his beloued standing by his beddes side, could not of a sudden conceit her beeing there, but at length hauing reuiued his senses by rubbing his eies, hee tooke her by the hand, and wanne her consent to come into the bedde, where hee entertained her with many sweete embracings and pleasant conference: who tooke no small delight in his company, after much time (which they thought too short) spent in kindsse. Clarina de­manded when he would returne, for (quoth shee) my selfe is no­thing without your presence: neither shall I attaine the least quiet in your absence: therefore I beseech you haue regard of my ho­nour [Page] Which I haue yéelded into your handes, and when you are amongst your Friends in Bohemia, be not vnmindefull of poore Clarinaes loue: Who hath committed her Life, Honour, and Chastitie, into your gen­tla custodie.

Most deare Clarina (quoth Tellamor,) my returne shall be as spéedy as may bée: For like as you, my selfe shall neuer enioy one minu [...]es respite of Content, without your heauenly companie: Whereon my chiefest Felicitie dependeth: And as you haue yéelded all that I can desire, or you graunt, into my vnworthy kéeping, I will as carefully la­bour to preserue the same from all spot of dishonour, hoping at my re­turne, to enioy the possession of your Loue, as well by generall consent of your Friends, as by your courtesie I haue attained their diuine frui­tion in priuate. Then I beséeche you, Let no disquiet disturbe your peace, let no doubt trouble your Fancie, nor any suspence of Loyaltie, take roote to your heart: For sooner shall the Sea become drie Land, the Sunne and Moone loose their cleare light, and all things turne to theyr contrary, before Tellamor will any way falsifie his faith. In these and such like spéeches (entermingled with many delights) they spent that Night, taking theyr leaue eache of other: With many a ceremonious Farewell, and parting with many a heauy sigh and sad feare, thinking that with each others sight, each others life had parted. Tellamor, ac­cording to his promise, arriued in Lybia, euen at the time of Parismus departure; Whome we will leaue onwardes of his iourney, towards Bohemia.

The Knight of Fame hauing slept his fill, and longer a great deale then hee determined, awaked within two dayes after Parismus departure: little thinking the Prince had bene gone, but beginning to Arme himselfe, Flauia comming to him, said as followeth. Woorthie Knight (qu [...]th shee) I am glad to see that you are well; Which vntill now I doubted. The Knight of Fame woondring at her spéeches, said: Gentlewoman, as yet I haue not bene sicke: then, Why doo you make any question of my health? Indéede Syr (qd. she) I sée now, you haue not bene sicke, but you haue slept very long: for I haue bene your kee­per heere this two dayes, euer since the Prince of Bohemia departed; Who thought to haue had your company some part of the way, but see­ing you a sleepe, (from which you could not be awakened) hée imparted his minde to the Ladie Venola, Who hath giuen mée speciall charge to attend you diligently.

[Page] Her hearing her spéeches: Was amazed in his thoughts to thinke of them, entring into many cogitations what should bee the cause of his sleepinesse; Which he perceiued, was the po [...]tion which he had tasted, that hee was exceedingly inraged with himselfe, that hée thereby was disappointed of Parismus company: Whome he estéemed aboue all the Knights that euer he had met withall, and making a vertue of necessi­tie, blaming himselfe, for his sleepinesse, he went downe into the compa­nie of other Knightes, making the best excuse he could thereof. Flauia in the meane time went to Venola, and told her all that had happened: and what she had tolde him of Parismus departure: Wishing her to de­ [...] what she thought best to satisfie his minde. The Knight of Fame being desirous to know what message Parismus had left with Venola, méeting with Flauia, desiring her to certifie her Mistresse, that he atten­ded her pleasure, to knowe what the Prince of Bohemia had tolde her as concerning him.

Flauia hearing his spéeches, brought him into a Gallerie, where she desired him to stay, and she would goe bring him answere presently: So com [...]ng to Venola, she tolde her thereof. Venola then hauing rid her chamber of all company, willed her to bring him in; Whome shee Welcommed with vnwoonted kindnesse: and taking him by the hand, desired him to sit downe by her vppon the Beddes side, to whome shee saide, as followeth.

Most courteous Knight, the Prince of Bohemia willed mee to cer­tifie you, that hee would within foure dayes returne to this place, to de­sire your company in executing a secret of importance: Desiring mee, that I would intreate you to stay here some fewe dayes, and at his re­turne he w [...]ll require that kindenesse: Therefore I pray (quoth she) be my Guest for so long time; For I haue receiued such benefites by your courtesie, as I would willingly (if it lay in my power) requ [...]te the same. I thanke your excellencie (quoth hee) for proffering me such kindnesse, acknowledging my selfe both vnworthie thereof, and vnable to requite the same: Being so much the more willing to stay Parismus returne, thereby to shewe my dutie to your request: and séeing you vouch safe me to be your Guest, hauing yet deserued no such kindnesse, pleaseth you to commaund or imploy mee any way, and I will most willing­ly vndertake any trauell or industrie whatsoeuer to procure your con­tent: Which words he spake, alth [...]ugh little knowing what Passi­ons [Page] had possest her tender her heart: Whome she vsed so kindely, and entertained with such louing glaunces, that hee began greatly to com­mend her courtesie.

And againe he maruelled much why she vsed him with such kinde­nesse, as that it would haue pierced the heart of any other Knight but onely himselfe: Whose affections were settled on his inward deuoted Ladie: that Venolaes Loue was but bestowed in vaine, and she spent her sighes and her good Will in [...]a barren-soyle, where she wept in hope of recompence: Which draue her to such extremity of griefe, that shee was often in minde, (hauing by good chaunce, gotten him so fitly into her companie, and fearing to loose so swéete an opportunitie,) to reueale her Loue to him of herselfe.

But yet that purpose was suddenly altered againe by quite con [...]arie thoughts, that she sate rackte with so manie and so extreame cogitati­ons, that the griefe on the one side, that hee could not conceyue of her good liking, by so many euident tokens as she hadde shewen thereof, and her owne Passions ouer-whelmed her heart with such care, that shee suddenly burst out into abundance of teares, and so rose from the Bed, and went to a Window.

The Knight of Fame maruelling what should be the cause of her sadnesse, thinking that his companie could but disquiet her, departed her chamber: Which she perceiuing, was ouercome with such Passi­on, that shee fell downe in a traunce, as shee were dead. Wherewith Flauia gaue such shréekes, that the Knight of Fame, hearing her outcry, suddenly returned, and finding Venola in that estate, did the best hee could with the [...]urse to recouer her sences: Which at last beganne to turne to their woontes vses.

Venola lifting vp her Eyes, and espying the Knight of Fame hol­ding her in his armes; Wisht that for euer shee might haue continued in that trance: Who carrying her to the Bed, there laid her downe, and Flauia and other Damzells by that time tooke her into their custodie; Which caused him to depart againe: After whome Venola cast such a gréedie looke, accompanied with such scalding sighes, that Flauia feared she would haue fallen into the like trance againe. [...] that shee was well recouered, and all her Attendants departed, Flauia saide as follo­weth. Why deere Mistresse (quoth shee) how immodera [...]ely doe you gouerne your selfe, to fall into [...] extreames? I [...] my heart, if I doe not repe [...] that euer I [...]ke in hand to be an A [...]tor herein. What [Page] haue you no more wisdome, but so fondly to dote on a stragling Knight, that cannot, or at the least will not vnderstand your meaning, taking a delight to see your torment, for it is impossible but that hee should perceiue your loue towards him: then be not so affectionate to­wards such a one, as neither regardeth loue, nor knoweth what belong­eth to Courtly ciuility. Peace, peace, (quoth Venola) either fill my eares with the sound of better words, orelse hold thy tongue: or I tell thee, it is more odions vnto me then death, to heare thee so much dis­grace the Prince of courtesie: for in him remaine all honourable parts, whose presence is more deare vnto me, then all the proffered seruices of the knights in the world: and if thou canst comfort me no better then by these speeches, keeps secret what thou knowest, and hereafter thou shalt know no more of my minde.

For I imparted the same to thee, thinking to haue comfort by thy counsell, but thou contrarily, addest care to my griefe. Sweet Mi­stresse (quoth shee) I beseech you doe not conceiue so hardly of my mea­ning, for I speake nothing but with intent to procure your good: and rather will I teare my accursed tongue from foorth of my head, then it shall vtter a word to displease you.

Then (qd. Venola) [...] againe counsell me what do too, for thou séest how farre I am tyed in th [...]nds of Loue to that worthy Knight, that without some hope of comfort, my [...] w [...]the excéeding, and more then my poore heart will be able to i [...]e. This I thinke (qd. Flauia,) is the best to be done, eyther doo it your selfe, or let mee giue him knowledge of your loue, and then you shall soone sée whether he will accept thereof or no. Doo so then (qd. Venola) I commit all to thy discretion.

The Knight of Fame being departed to Venolaes chamber, was as farre from conceiuing the cause of her Passion, as hee was from the knowledge of all things, and being walkt into a Garden alone by him selfe. Flauia came to him, [...] hee kindely gréeted, asking her how her Mistresse did.

Syr Knight (quoth shée) in the same case you left her, and yet rather Worse, the cause of whose disquiet is procured by no disease, but by an extraordinarie [...], which none but one can remedie, Which I would willingly giue the partie knowledge of, but that I knowe not whether hee will take the same kindely or no: Else [...]ere hée much too blame (q. he) [...]or h [...] [...] his [...], that would not pittie the distresse of [Page] so diuine a creature. Gentle sir (quoth she) thus it is. My Lady hath euer since the first sight of your person, beene greatly tormented with loues passions, which is the cause of her sicknesse, which resteth onely in your power to salue.

The Knight of Fame hearing her speeches, was so suddenly a [...] ­nisht, and therewith drawne into such cogitations, that he stood a good while like one in a trance, at last he said, the harder is her happe, and the worse my misfortue, for I am vnworthy of such kindnesse, and vnable to yeeld her recompence: which words being spoken, he turned himselfe from her, being drawne into such a deepe meditation, that hee regarded not, nor scarce heard some words Flauia spake to him after­wards, who thinking that he had of purpose contemned her, departed in a monstrous rage: and being alone by himselfe, cogitating vpon these euents, perceiued that her former kindnesse had proceeded from the same roote of affection, greatly condemning himselfe of dulnes, that could not before that conceiue the same: wishing that he had departed with the Prince of Bohemia, for that his fancy could by no meanes be drawne to the least good conceit of her loue: for his heart was wholly imployed another way.

Then he beganne to call to remembrance the somniferous potion he had tasted, by which meanes he was disappointed of Parismus compa­nie, reuoluing euery consideration and circumstance of the same and these Euents, was in the ende fully perswaded, that it was purposely done by Venola, or some by her appointment, to stay him there: which thought was so fully grounded in his fancie, that he assuredly perswa­ded himselfe that was the very truth, and none else: Which draue him into many studies how to rid himselfe from thence. At last he determi­ned to depart in secret, and vnknowne to anie; And with this resoluti­on, all that day he accompanied the rest of the Knights, thereby to shun all occasions of hearing any further spéech of Venola. Who hearing how scornefully he receiued Flauiaes Message, (Which Flauia had told her) entred into such extream complaints against her hard fortune: and shed such abundance of teares, that the Bed whereon she lay, was Wa­tered therewith: In which estate shee continued, tormenting her selfe with extreame cares.

Early the next morning, the knight without the knowledge of any departed, clogged with such a chaos of confused cares, as that he wisht [Page] the date of his wearie life (subiect to so many crosses) were expyred, in­tending neuer to returne thith [...]r, whom Flauia soone mist: The newes whereof, shee conueyed to the hearing of Venola, Who tooke the same se heauily, so that many dayes shee continued as one likelyer to enter­taine death, then to suruiue: Which draue her Parents into an ex­treame sadnesse, From whome she still concealed the cause of her griefe. In which estate for a while we will leaue her, and the Knight of Fame, onwards on his Iourney, and Clarina in great car [...], for the absence of Tellamor, in the Forrest of Arde.

CHAP. XV.

AFter the Knight of Fame was departed the King of Lybiaes Court, to andyde the Loue of Venola, hee trauelled many daies without any aduenture, tyred with extreame care and desire to come to the knowledge of his Parents, and to finde his deuo­ted [...]adie, that when the Sunne was at the high­ [...]t, and by that meanes the season very hote, hee a­lighted from his horse in a pleasant valley: Where sitting vnder the shadow of a Chestnut-Tree, he entred into this com­munication to himselfe.

What varieties of crosses do still prosecute my stéppes, that I can in no place bee at quiet, but am still troubled with that which I would not, but cannot finds the thing I desire? My Byrth-day was the be­ginning of my sorrowes: Since which time, nothing but Care and [...]ration hath befallen to my share; Whereas I sée other Knights en­ioy theyr hearts content, &c.

As [...]cerning my Parents, they are so hidden from my know­ledge, as tha [...] my selfe Trauelling to finde them, Peraduanture goe ra­ther a great wa [...]from them, then to them: For the Iland of Rockes, from w [...]nce I came, and where I was brought vppe, is very farre di­stant from this place [...] I thinke if I woulde come to their know­ledge, [Page] it is my best course to returne thither againe. Was I not ouer­foolish to refuse the marriage of Phylena, the kings daughter of Thrace, vpon the vaine confidence of a Dreame? Uppon whose certaintie I can no way builde: Which might bee procured by some Sorcerie of Remulus, to make me refuse that high Honour, onely to the intent hée might install himselfe therein: and cause mee to doate on the Beautie of a Ladie that is no where to be found; For the whole Worlde con­taines not such an Essence of perfect beautie, as that which I behelde▪ then, What shall I doo? or, Which way shall I shape my best course? shall I giue ouer her search, since Dreames are so vncertaine? I but this was more then a Dreame, it was a Uisien: For I beheld the god­desse Venus, Who enioyned me this Taske, holding that swéete Ladie in her hand: Whose forme so perfectly is printed in my remembrance, that I cannot forget the same: Which assuredly is liuing and to be found: And therefore I will neuer desist vntill I haue found her, al­though I should spend the whole race of my life in that Quest: Which if it were ordained for my endlesse torment, then how should I auoyde the same? Neither care I what paine to endure, if I may after all my Trauells finde her.

In this sort he spent much time, vntill he fell in a deepe study, lea­ning his backe to a Tree, hee fell fast a sleepe. Whilest he was in this sweete sleepe, (by happy fortune) Angelica the faire, that day hadd forsaken the Golden Tower, (which was not farre from the place where the knight of Fame lay) to meete the king her Father, who with the Queene was comming from the City of Ephesus, where he kept his Court, to soiourne certaine daies for his disport in the Gol­den Tower, that yeelded all kind of delights. Angelica passing along this pleasant valley, gallantly attended by an vnwonted traine of La­dies, and guard of knights, espied the knight of Fame, supposing that he had beene dead: to ease which doubt, shee willed one of her knights to see what hee was. The knight comming to him, awaked him, who suddenly starting vp, beganne to lay hand on his sword, but casting his eye aside, hee behelde Angelicaes gallant Traine, and amongst the rest, her selfe, whose countenance hee present­ly knewe to bee the very same Lady hee had scene in the Uisi [...]n: whose beauty and sudden presence strooke such an amazement to his [Page] sences, that he stoode like one in a traunce. Angelica séeing that he was aliue, and not dead as shee supposed, past on her intended Iourney, not regarding him. He séeing her departed, thus said to the Knight. Cour­teous Syr, I pray let me craue that gallant Ladies name. Syr, (re­plyed hée) her name is Angelica, Daughter to the most mighty King of Natolia: Who passing this way to méete the King and Quéene, (Who are comming towards the Golden Tower,) and séeing you lying vnder this Trée, sent me to sée whether you were aliue or dead: Which saide, he departed.

The Knight of Fame reioycing that he had séene his long expected Mistresse, was presently rapte into a heauenly conceit of Ioy, that hee thought himselfe as it were transformed into pleasure, such comfort re­uiued his drouping heart from sadde dumpes, with her delectable sight, euen then beginning to studie how to come to her spéech, to purchase oc­casion to giue her knowledge of his best dutie, finding out so many lettes and impossibilites betwéene him and his intent, that hée beganne to dispaire thereof: at last resolued vppon nothing, but determining to doo something, he mounted his Steed, and followed that way Angelica went: purposing to take a more precious view of her perfections, being hopelesse of any other comfort.

He had soone ouertaken her Traine, not yet resolued by reason of his strangenesse, what to doo, or what meanes to vse to speake to her, being incompassed by such a number of Knightes: At last hee thus thought with himselfe: I that haue refused the good will of Kings Daughters, onely to finde this beautifull Ladie, and in her Search haue indured so many mischances: Shall I now when I sée her, be afraid to speake to her [...] Or may I not hereafter be disappoynted of such F [...]rtunate occa­sion, as is now offered mée? What though shee be Guarded by these Knights, being alone, it can no way breed offence to them, that I speake to her. With this resolution hee passed by the hindermost of her com­pany, without speaking to them: who greatly maruelled what he shuld be [...] and comming right against Angelica, who he easily knew from the r [...]st, by his former little view of her forme in the Uision, he kindly drue [...]eere her. And with a submissiue signe of Reuerence first giuen, hée said [...]s followeth.

Most sacred Ladie, pardon my boldnesse, Which I beséech you do not account [...]denesse: I haue trauelled many a mile, to attaine the height [Page] of his felicitie, to beholde your diuine perfections, which maketh mee conrrary to that dutifull reuerence my heart hath vowed, to intrude my selfe thus rudely into your presence, being voide of other meanes to demonstrate my depth of deuotion: therefore I humbly once againe desire your pardon, that hath offended against my will: desiring you withall, to enter into this opinion of my meaning, that (notwithstan­ding what perswasion my rudenesse may bréed in your heauenly heart) it is both loyall, honourable and vertuous, and no way intending to presume aboue my desert, yet my life shall be alwaies imploied to de­serue as well as the best.

Angelica hearing his spéeches, sadly noting his countenance, and being of a most singular w [...]t, admired his courage, that notwithstan­ding all her guard, he durst so boldly presume into her presence, which caused her the better to regard both his speeches and propor [...]ion, made this reply. Sir Knight, it may be you are deceiued, for you haue not found that which you haue so long sought, which maketh mee account your speech flatteries, and your boldenesse folly: entring into no other conceit of your meaning, for be it either good or bad, I care not, for the one cannot arme me, nor the other pleasure me: but for your good will, I take that kindely, though in my fancie you professe more then you will performe.

Diuine Lady (quoth he) vouchafe but to imploy me, and then shall you make triall of my forwardnesse, which shall be no lesse then I haue promised: for my speech, nor bold approach into your presence, hath not proceeded from want of respect of your worthynesse, but from a strickt command, long since enioyned me to become your dutifull ser­uant: therefore I humbly beseech you, iudge fauourably of my meaning, for I will rather heereafter consume my heart with silent care, then by my speech purchase your displeasure, if you command the contrarie. Hee had not scarce ended those words, but shee let fall her gloue, which he seeing, presently alighted and tooke it vp, with reuerence kissing the same, [...]ffered it her againe.

Knight (quoth she) take it for your labour, wherewith she turned a­way from him, for that she esp [...]ed her Father comming: which caused him, being glad of that fauour, to withdrawe himselfe. One of Angeli­cas knights named Camillus, to whose principall custodie the King had committed his daughter, aboue all the rest noted the Knight of Fames behauiour, and disdaining that a stranger should carrie away the [Page] gloue, which he esteemed a fauor sar [...]ond his [...]esert, himselfe hauing been her seruant a long time, yet could neuer attaine any such kindnes: withall, supposing hee was some Knight Anglica knew, presently ha­sted after him, trusting too much to his owne valour, and bluntly bade him render backe the Princesse gloue. Sir (quoth he) againe, the Prin­cesse gaue it me, and for her sake I will keepe the same. Wherewith Collimus without any more words, retired backe to encounter him: and he did the like, and remembring it was the best deede of Chiualrie he could performe in his Ladies presence, thought with himselfe, that if he sate not fast, he would quaile his courage: presentlie, they met each other, the one with brauery, the other with force, for Collimus measu­red his length on the ground.

By this time the King and Quéene had met Angelica, and all grée­tings ouerpast, their Traines met, which almost filled that pleasant valley: in company of Maximus, was Camillus, Sonne to the king of Slauonia, attended by a number of gallant Knights, who hearing of the exceeding beautie of Angelica, was lately come into the countrie as a suter, to whom Maximus said, (beholding the braue course betwéen the two Knights,) What Knight is yonder, that hath [...]uerthrowne his aduersarie with such agility? A comely Knight he is (quoth Ca­millus) but it séemes he is a stranger. With that, another Knight of Angelicas attendants, vpon the former quarrel, incountred the knight of Fame, who tasted of his valour, as his predecessour Collimus had done, after him another, which when Maximus beheld, hee called a Gentleman to him, willing him to request the strange Knight to come and speake with him, which fell out well for the Knight of Fames quiet, for had not the King béene present, the Knights of Angelicaes guard had taken such a secret indignation against him, that they by violence would haue sought his death. The messenger Maximus sent, told the Knight of Fame that the King did request to speake with him. Sir (quoth he) I am readie at his command: to whom Maximus said, as followeth.

Sir Knight, you are it seemeth to me, a stranger in this place, but notwithstanding somewhat bolde with my knights, both whose quar­rell against you, and your cause of arriuall, I desire to know. Most renowned king (quoth he) I am a stranger in this place, or in any else: in my trauels méeting with this gallant troupe, to any of whom I I haue as yet giuen no cause of offence, which should make them trou­ble [Page] me. Sir (quoth Maximus) they haue reapt shame for their discon­tent: but I pray let vs without offence know your name, and of whence you are: neither feare to disarme your selfe: for vpon my promise, you shall haue no wrong offred you: which said, the Knight of Fame pulled off his helmet, making this answer. By name, most noble King, I am called the knight of Fame, my birth to my selfe vnknowne, by no ill in­tent drawne into this Countrie, but onely to finde out my Parents, which are likewise vnknowne: my selfe subiect to miserie, by the want of knowledge of my selfe. Marcellus sonne to Maximus, a knight of exceeding courteous and honourable parts, hearing his speeches, hum­bling himselfe vpon his knee before his father, said, I humbly craue your Maiesties fauour, to entertaine this knight honourably, for that I haue some knowledg [...] of him, which I will declare to your Highnesse heereafter.

Maximus hearing his Sonnes spéeches, said: Rise vp Marcellus, for thy sake, and for his owne too, he shall be welcome: whom doe thou vse according as shall seeme good, and be agreeable to his honourable deserts. The knight of Fame hearing his speeches, most humbly than­ked him: and Marcellus presently embraced him, shewing many to­kens of hearty good will.

Angelica all this while noted euery circumstance of this knights a­riuall, as first, how shee found him a sleepe: and next, of his speeches to her: then, how valiently he had ouerthrowne three knights: then her brothers speeches: and lastly, his gallant youth, and comly [...]person: which altogether wrought such a kind of admiration in her, that shee beganne with a curious eie to marke all his actions: and to affect his company more then she had done any mans: oftentimes casting a looke vpon him, she perceiued his eie was still vpon her: which made a rud­die blush beautifie her cheekes. In which time, the King intreated him to stay somtime with him, if his important businesse did not withdraw him: which offer he willingly and kindly accepted: which fell out ac­cording to his owne hearts content.

CHAP. XVI.

AFter these speeches past, the King, Camillus, the Queene, Angelica, and all the [...]est, departed to­wards the Golden Tower: and by the way Mar­cellus beganne to declare in hearing of them all, what he had heard of the Knight of Fame: of his valiant exploits in Thrace, and afterwards how in the Forrest of Arde he slew the Gyant Branda­mor, which he vttered in such ample manner, and with such commen­dation, that it made them all admire his noble gifts: especially Ange­lica aboue all the rest, noted euery circumstance thereof, with such re­gard, that she séemed to take great delight therein. The Knight of Fame hearing thereof, entertainning his mistresse perfections with such plea­sure, and admiring her beauty with such surfeting delight that he rode like one in a trance, hauing all his sences bent vpon her.

By this time they were commen to the Golden Tower, where was exceeding preparation made for the King, who speaking to Ca­millus and the Knight of Fame, tolde they were most heartily welcome thither: likewise the Queene welcommed them with great kindenesse, especially Marcellus care for the Knight of Fames entertainement was very great, who caused him to bee lodged in a most stately lodging, where euery thing was readily prepared for him in the best manner. Euery one being departed to their seuerall lodg­ings, the Knight of Fame meditating on his good fortune, and the kinde entertainement he found in that strange place, waying on the one side, how late he was pluuged in care, and how suddenly he was possest with pleasure, how from miserie, hee was aduanced to the highest degree of his felicity: how hee was lately in dispaire of fin­ding his deuoted, and how prosperously he had now mette with her, and had in some part manifested his affection: how the occasion of his quarell for his Ladies Gloue, was the cause of his kinde entertaine­ment: how fortunately in that strange plate his deedes were ex­tolde: [Page] and how kindly Marcellus vsed him, whose acquaintance and friendship might be a meanes, both of his stay in that place, and also of obtaining Angelicaes loue. Then againe considering how strange it was that hee would stay in the very place where his Lady should see him: and how luckily he had left the Court of the king of Lybia, and thereby he was ridde from Venolas rash loue, which might haue both endangered his honour and person: that with the remembrance of all these happy concurrences, his minde was exceedingly contented, and he seemed to haue attained more happy successe then hee would haue wisht: that in that Sunne-path of sweete delight, accompanied with quiet sleepe, he spent that night. Angelica was likewise no whitte in­feriour to him in contrariety of passions, but hauing likewise spent the day in company of her mother, when the time of rest drew nigh, shee soone gat from out of all company which she thought troublesome, be­ing much disquieted in her thoughts, feeling a kinde alteration to her former liberty of of minde, being desirous to be alone, shee gatte to her Chamber, where was none but her Damzell Anna, that was her bed­fellow, to whom she said: I pray thee good Anna leaue me alone for a while, for my thoughts are possest with such disquiet, that I desire by solitarinesse to ease my passonate heart.

Anna hearing her speeches, maruelling what might bee the cause thereof, and being in all respect dutifull, departed. She was no sooner gone, but Angelica sitting downe vpon the rushes, leauing her head vpon the beddes side, beganne to study whence the occasion of that sud­daine alteration she felt in her selfe should proceede: sometimes dee­ming this, and then that, but still shee could not certainely what to iudge thereof: that her minde was drawne to an extreame torment, which so opprest her sences, that presently she called Anna againe: who maruelling at her strang [...] [...], and [...] at her sadnesse, knée­ling downe by her, vttered these speeches. My deare Mistresse, I be­seech you conceale not from me the occasion of your disquiet, to whose secrecy you neede not [...] to commit the [...]ame: for I hope you are suf­ficiently perswaded of my truth, that doe esteeme my duty to you more deare then my life, which I would most wi [...]ingly spend for your sake: [...] if you will vouchsafe to [...] me any way, or in what sort so [...], so it please you to command, I will hee most willing to vse my vttermost endeauours, as [...] as euer did seruant, to purchase your content. A [...] mee wretched creature (quoth Angelica) it is not [Page] mistrust of thy secresie, nor doubt of thy aide, nor ought else that I mis­doubt in thee, that maketh me withhold any part of my counsell from thee: for if I would shew it thee, I cannot, for this passion is so newly begunne, that I cannot rightly coniecture what the cause thereof should be, or why my thoughts should be thus suddenly disquieted: and such assured confidence doe I retaine in thy fidelity, that I would conceale no part of my thoughts from thee.

Anna hearing her Mistresse speeches, began presently to suspect that she had en [...]rtained some good conceit of some of the knights that were arrined that day, whom she thought to be the yong Prince Camillus: which caused her make this answer. Deare Mistresse (quoth she) I be­leeue the approach of some of the gallant Knights that came with the King, is the cause of your alteration. Why (quoth Angelica) doest thou thinke their approach should disquiet me? Marry (quoth Anna) because many Ladies haue been suddenly ouertaken with loue: wher [...] with Angelica blusht, saying. Doest thou thinke my affection so light, to looke of euery one I see?

Pardon me deare Madame (quoth shee) I doe not thinke so. Well (quoth Angelica) suppose thou hast iumpt vpon the right, which of those knights doest thou suppose it is? Will you pardon me (said An­na) if I giue my opinion? I will (said shee) I thinke (quoth Anna) it is the braue Prince Camillus Camillus (quoth she) it is rather the stran­ger. Indeed (quoth Anna) that strange Knight farre surmounteth all the knights that euer I beheld, for comlinesse, courtesie and prowesse. I am assured said Angelica (breathing forth a sadde sigh) thou spak­kest this rather to flatter me, then according to that thou thinkest: for otherwise why didst thou speake of Camillus? Faith Mistresse (quoth shee) I named Camillus, not for any thing I see in him comparable with the strange Kinght, but for that I would therby know your mind: which now that I vnderstand, if you would follow my cousell, you should not onely like him, but also loue him: for ther [...] is no doubt but the cause of his comming hither, was onely for your sake, who in my rash opinion, will proue both constant and loyall: for his very coun­tenance bewraieth the vnited essence of true Nobilitie and vertue to be placed in him.

O Anna (quoth shee) thou woundest we to the heart: before I had [...] a suspition of loue, but by thy speeches I beginne to be inthralled [Page] therein. Do not I pray thée seeke to augment that, which is impossible to come to perfection: which if I should entertaine (as I shall I feare me against my will) thou knowest how many impossibities doe threa­ten my euerlasting torment thereby: therefore I pray thee doe not once name him to me againe, for if thou doest, I shall bee more intralled to that very name, then to all the humble sutes of the most noblest knight in the world.

Diddest thou not heare my brother Marcellus report, how prodi­gally hee gaue away the Kings daughter of Thrace? and what paines he tooke to redeeme Venola, that beautifull Lany, from Andramarts Castle.

I know thou didst: but likewise I know thou didst not heare what he said to me to refell these doubts, that he was long since enioyned to my seruice, and was the thing hee had long time sought to at­taine.

Didst thou not sée how I found him a sleepe, and yet notwithstan­ding all the Knights that guarded me, how resolutely (yet with humi­litie) he approched my presence? where he told me, that no want of regard had bredde that rudenesse, but feare of missing that fit occasion, considering how straightly I am kept and pried into by my Fathers decree?

Didst thou not see how brauely and valiantly he ouerthrewe three stout Knights together, that would haue taken my gloue from him? Doest thou not see how dearely my brother Marcellus loued him, and all in generall are well affected towards him? These I thinke are occasions sufficient to refell all suspect of his good intent and mea­ning.

Quoth Anna, Truely most gracious Madame, I thinke verily (all things considered) hee hath not his equall, neither for valour nor for Uertue, you may doe as you please, whome I will not so much as once speake of heereafter, since I shall offende you there­by.

Yes, I pray thee speake of him (quoth Angelica) for nothing can please me better, though I feare mee nothing will doe mee more harme. And well maiest thou thinke me ouer [...]ond, so soone to be intan­gled in the bondes of loue, with a stranger, that I neither knew [...] of whence, nor what he is: of whom we haue said inough at this [Page] time, therfore I pray let vs deferre any further commendation of him, vntill we haue made better proofe of his worthinesse: which saide, they betooke themselues to their rest.

Earely the next morning the knight of Fame was vp, to whom Mer­cellus was soone gotten, who tooke no other delight but onely in his company, vsing him so kindely, and so honourably, that the knight of Fame maruelled thereat, wondring whence such kindenesse should grow: that he likwise beganne greatly to affect his company, and be­ing both come into the kings presence, who was accompanied by Ca­millus, they spent the forenoone in seuerall discourses: likewise Ange­lica spent her time against the Ladies of great account, in such sort as agreed in their fancy.

Dinner time beeing come, a most costly and sumptuous feast was prepared: whereunto Maximus inuited all his Nobles, and Camillus and the Knight of Fame amongst the rest as his chiefest, where they were most honourably entertained, sumptuously feasted, and kindely welcommed.

Camillus seeing that the Quéene and Angelica were wanting, was suddenly fallen into a sadde dumpe, because the Lady of his delight was absent: which the King noted more specially then all the rest, who supposing that Camillus came as a Suter to his daughter, had of pur­pose giuen order to the Quéene, that shee should banquet the Ladies by themselues: which was so done, that neither Camillus nor any else perceiued his drift therein, which made Camillus extreame angry with himselfe, that he had not the day before (when he enioyed both her sight and full liberty of speech) in some measure giuen her knowledge of his loue.

The Knight of Fame on the contrary side, gouerned himselfe with more moderation, for he hauing attained such good successe as his heart did wish, was therewith for the present contented: hoping that fortune that had beene so fauourable to him, would not suddenly alter her countenance, but still continue her aide to his furtherance: whome Maximus likewise diligently noted, hauing suspition that hee likewise came for Angelicas loue, though he dissembled the contrary, of which he could perceiue no likelihood by his merry countenance, which cau­sed him onely to suspect Camillus and not him.

The Feast beeing ended with great Royaltie, euery one after some Courtly pastime past, betooke themselues to what exercise liked them [Page] best Camillus still accompanyed the King, shewing (for griefe of Ange­licaes absence, such a kinde of behauiour, as though his sences were be­witched with carelesse passions) which he noted diligently, thereby brée­ding in his minde, an assurance of his suspition. The Knight of Fame hadde withdrawne himselfe into a Garden, and seeking the solitaryest place hee could finde, beganne to recall the sweete remembrance of An­gelicaes Beautie into his minde, whereunto he was more firmely in­thralled then he was before he had seene her, though euen then his Loue was firme, hauing but seene her in a Uision: That hee was now not onely contented with that fauour shee had already shewen him, but al­so deuised and studyed how to become more gratious in her sight, and attaine some better hope of her Loue: Which as yet hee had no likely­hood to attayne. Whilest hee was in the depth of these cogitations, Marcellus missing him, and séeing him before enter into the Garden, neuer left vntill he had found him out, to whom he said; Syr Knight, I am somewhat bold to interrupt your quiet Meditations by my ap­proach, being desirous of your companie: Therefore if I may without intrusion accompany you, I will stay, Otherwise, I would be loath to bréede your disquiet.

Most Noble Marcellus, (qo. the Knight of Fame,) I am not trou­bled with your presence, but euen thinke my selfe most happie to enioy the same, as farre vnwoorthie such kindnesse: being a straunger heere, thinke my selfe so highly honoured by your fauour, that I shall account my selfe for euer bound vnto you for the same: thinking my selfe more happie thereby then I could haue wisht, being before subiect to all euill Fortune, account my selfe excéedingly fortunate by your kindnesse and friendship.

I could wish it were in my power (quoth Marcellus,) to deserue so well of you: Being more willinger then able to pleasure you, for the report of your honourable guifts, hath made mee long since desirous of your Acquaintance, that if you please to stay with me in my Fathers Court, I will endeuour to shew my good. Will towardes you: And if you will accept of my plaine meaning, without further tryall, I will hereafter prooue your faithfull Friend. Most courteous Knight (quoth hée) I can yéelde no other recompence but most hearty thankes for your great kindnesse, which hath extended it selfe farre beyond my desert, with so willing a heart accepting your kinde proffers, that before I prooue disloyall, I will teare my heart from out my brest. Then (quoth [Page] Marcellus) let vs conclude this sudden consent of good-Will, which for my part, shall neuer while life doth last be dissolued.

Desiring you from hence forwards to make such account of mée, that wherein soeuer I may in any degrée pleasure you, I will as assuredly doo my best, as in my power consisteth. With that they embraced each other: Betwixt whome, such good-Will began to grow, as was both constant and indissoluable.

CHAP. XVII.

MArcellus hauing a while Walked with him in the Garden, desired him to accompanie him into the Court, to visite the Ladies, who (quoth hee) are this day Feasting by themselues. The Knight of Fame glad thereof, willingly gaue his consent, being the onely thing that contented his minde: and being come into the Presence, where the Quéene was, and hauing done his Reuerence, shee most kindely Welcommed the Knight of Fame, telling Marcellus, that his com­ming was to sée the young Ladyes; Whereat Marcellus smiling, de­parted into a Gallerie, where were a multitude of swéete Beauties, ex­ercising thēselues at seuerall pastimes: Some at Chesse, some at cards, and some in pleasant communication: Whom Marcellus kindely em­braced: but the Knight of Fame by reason he was a stranger, was not so bolde; but hauing his minde dedicated to serue no other Saint but Angelica, looked for her, whome hee espyed at the further ende of the Gallery, in a heauy dumpe, leaning on her elbow: Who hearing Mar­cellus voyce, looked back, and cast her Eye first on the Knight of Fame, on whome shée fastned a stedfast eye a good space: But remem­bring her selfe, with an excéeding blush, she withdrew the same, because she saw his eye setled on her.

Marcellus by this time came towards Angelica, and perceyuing her Blushing countenaunce, caused him to note how Melancholly shée was alone, saying to her: How now Sister? What sollitarie studie is that, which hath so withdrawne you from yonder pleasaunt Com­panie? [Page] My minde (quoth shée) is better exercised, by being sometimes alone, then in theyr companie: But since your Presence hath broken my meditation, I wilbe content to forsake the same to enioy your good companie; Which me thinkes is very rare.

I thanke you good Sister (quoth hee) assuring you, that I take it wondrous kindely, that you will thinke so well of mee; Which here­after you shall at your commaund enioy: Withall, I desire you for my sake to bid this Knight Welcome, whome I estéeme as dearely as my selfe. With that Angelica turned towards him, and hée with humble reuererence, kissed her hand, to whom Augelica said: Syr, by my bro­thers command I bid you Welcom: The Knight of Fame most hum­bly thanked her, being so excéedingly rauisht in his minde with ioy, that no ioy might be compared to that hée endured.

Angelica on the other side, was euery way affected with as swéete content, by that opportunitie to take a more precise view of his comeli­nesse, entertaining the same with such surfetting delight, that shee not onely augmented the heate of her former Affections, but also was now fettered in the indissoluable bonds of Loue.

Marcellus and shee continued sometime in conference together, in which time Angelica cast many swéete lookes towards the Knight of Fame, which hée well perceiued, by reason his Eye was neuer [...] her, which she likewise noted, striuing not to shew the like kindnes againe, but notwithstanding contrarie to her purpose, her harts inward affecti­on constrained her to behold him, which made her colour goe and come excéedingly: oftenti [...]es breaking off her speeches with such passionate studies, & somtimes breathing a silent sigh, which Marcellus noted, but yet séemed not to marke. In the meane time, in comes the Queene, who calling Marcellus vnto her, entred into cōmunication with him, which when Angelica beheld, her heart began to throh & pant with a kinde of delight: the Knight of Fame likewise was tormented with diuersitie of passion, being desirous to speake to Angelica, yet not daring to attempt such boldnesse in presence of the Queene, hauing before heard of Maxi­mus decrée. Whilest she was in this cogitation, Anna seeing her Mi­stresse alone, & the knight she so dearely loued hard by her, came and vsed some speehes vnto her on him, which he well noted, at last the Queene departed againe, & Marcellus went to sport amongst the rest of the La­dies, hauing before noted his Sisters passions, which he was in some suspition, was by reason of the knight of Fames being there.

[Page] The Knight of Fame séeing the Quéene departed, and Marcellus amongst the Ladyes, not rashly attempting such boldnesse, but with a most submisse and comely behauiour, drue towardes Angelica (being surprized with such a feare to offend) and care what to say, that his hart shooke therewith, and humbly kissing her hand, with a trembling feare, still helde the same in his palme, and said: My diuine Lady, pardon my presumption, that ouer-boldly and contrary to my desart, presume to trouble your sacred eares with my spéeches: Which if I did suppose would be offensiue, I would bur [...] still in the closet of my troubled heart, from whence they procéeded: but if I may be so gratious in your sight, as to gaine the swéet opportunity by your fauorable licence, as to declare the depth of my deuotion, and how and in what sort, and how long since I was enioyned to become your deuoted seruant, I shall rest so much more inthralled to your vertues, as my poore hart shall for euer be vna­ble to yéeld sufficient thanks for, which I dare not presume to do w^tout your fauorable consent, which I desire you to graunt. Angelica all this while stoode as one tranformed into bashfulnnes, being possest with de­light, yet vnwilling to make any shew thereof, which caused an excée­ding blush beautifie her chéekes, which added some splendour to perfect beauty it self, which at all times appeared most liuely in her swéet coū ­tenance: At last withdrawing her hand, which now began to sweate, with his strickt em [...]race, which he was vnwilling to let go, yet fearfull to hold without her consent, to whō she made this answer. Syr, where no harme is meant, there néedes no such entreatance for pardon, for the actual offence I sée none, but if any be intended, it is more then I know, and therefore without my power to forgiue: neyther doth your spéech much please nor offend me, but if spoken with good meaning, I cannot blame, nor will deny to heare another time, withall, wishing you not to thinke me tractable to euery perswasion, but haue yéelded you that fa­uour, neuer yet had any at my hands: which peraduenture imboldneth you to vse your accustomed maner of flatteries, wherunto most mē are addicted, wherein you shall do greatly amisse: for though I condiscend to heare you, yet do not thinke my minde easily drawne to beleeue eue­ry protestation. Most vertuous Lady (quoth he) neither doe my words proceed fr [...] custome, but my speaches proceed frō the debth of my true and humble heart, that hath vowed neuer to start from the constant ve­rity, which hath long nurced many bitter torments, proceeded by desire to find your vertuous selfe: which hath bin the cause of my long trauel. [Page] Then I most humbly beséech you, estéeme of mée as one that can breath no longer then hée is in your fauour. For sooner shall all things be dis­solued, then I faile in dutie to your seruice, and constancie, to continue deuoted to your command; Which if I may be in any hope to attaine, though it bee with the extreamest hazard that euer Knight indured, I shall account my selfe the most happiest man liuing. Therefore I be­séech you, let no suspected conceyt of my truth, withdraw your vertues from pittying mee: For without the fruition of your sweete fauour, it is impossible for me to liue. Beséeching your Excellencie likewise, not to suppose my words to procéede from fained affection, but from a heart that hath vowed to be perpetually Constant, and will neuer start from truth, whatsoeuer miseries or crosses may happen to trie my constancy.

Angelica hearing his spéeches, Withall, noting with what motions and alterations his heart was oppressed, by the ofte change of his coun­tenance: and withall, béeing herselfe euery way as much enthralled to Loue as himselfe, hoping that his heart, if it harboured true Loyaltie, would not déeme amisse of her courtesie, (for the Noblest mindes are soo­nest drawne to pittie) gaue him this kinde replie.

Syr Knight, your earnest spéeches hath so much preuailed with me, that gladly I would shewe you what kindnesse resteth in mée, but that I still feare to be deceiued: Therefore if hereafter I sée you constant, make no doubt but I will be as kinde as you can wish, and yeelde you what recompence I can, in requitall of your good Will; Withall wi­shing you to thinke that my heart hath yéelded you that fauour, which yet neuer any had from me.

Angelica had not ended those words, but in comes Maximus puf­fing with vexation, to whom Collimus had declared, that the Knight of Fame was some disguised counterfeit, that came to seeke Angelicas loue (whereon his life depended) and comming to him, seeing him in talke with his daughter, said. Knight (quoth he) what maketh thee thus bold, so farre to presume aboue thy desert, to intrude thy selfe into my daughters company, which thou knowest is contrarie to my decree. Then taking Angelica by the arme, hee thrust her from him, commanding Collimus (who was ready at hand) to commit her to safe custody: and vpon paine of death, not to suffer any, not so much as his Sonne Marcellus, to come to her speech: by whose meanes Col­limus had tolde him the knight of Fame was brought into her com­panie. [Page] Collimus hauing this charge, which was his owne séeking, immedi­ately conueyed Angelica from their presence: Who notwithstanding her Fathers presence and displeasure, turned back and gaue the knight of Fame a kinde l [...]ke at her departure: Which he wel noted, and there­with conceiued more ioy, then he tooke griefe at Maximus vnkindnesse.

By this time Marcellus was come to his Father, who cast such a dis­pleasant countenance vppon him, as that hee well perceyued hee was someway incenst against him: Wherwith the King in a great rage de­parted, not speaking a Word to him. After he was gone, Marcellus comming to the Knight of Fame (whose hart was nipt with griefe) and noting his sad countenance, departed with him downe into the garden: Where being come, Marcellus saide as followeth: Deare Friend ((qd. hee) for by other name I will neuer call you) be not disquieted with my Fathers displeasure, who giueth too much credite to vntrue reportes: and that causeth him both to be offended with any that speaketh to my Sister, and also suspicious of all that come into his owne company, whereby he dishonoureth his owne name, liueth a troublesom life, and also kéepeth her as it were in Prison, which I am sure can bréed no little t [...]e care in brest; Whose hard happe I hap much pittie, and would any way ease, if it lay in my power.

Most honourable Knight (quoth he) I am most heartely sorrie, that my ouer-boldnes hath caused your fathers despleasure, and that diuine Ladies disquiet, which is more grieuous vnto me then death: Which it was my accursed misfortune to procure, beeing drawne to that pre­sumption by attractiue beautie: Wishing that I had some way ended this my accursed life, before my approach in this place, that thereby I might not haue beene so vnfortunate, as to be a meanes of her care, and your disquiet: For that I see the King is displeased with you. As for that take no care (qd. Marcellus) nor be so much grieued for my Sister, for these troubles will be soone calmed: Which to effect, let mee alone. In the meane time, (whatsoeuer inward thoughtes you conceyue, yet smoother your discontent) and shew your self chéerfull as heretofore you haue bene: for I perceiue that some of enuie hath incensed my Father, the truth whereof I will finde out. Marcellus hauing endured these spéeches, left the Knight of Fame walking in the garden, and presently without any shew or signe of discontent, went into the presence, where [...]ee found the King in companie of Camillus, according to his woonted manner dooing his reuerence, and taking his vsuall place. The King [Page] maruelling how he durst so boldely presume into his presence, without reconcilement, thought that eyther want of duetie hadde procured the same, or else hee did not perceiue hee was displeased with him: to ease himselfe of which doubt, he saide as followeth.

Marcellus, I had thought your care would haue beene greater to re­garde my good, then any mans else, considering you knowe the depth of my secrets: as concerning Angelica, on whose Beautie my life doeth depende; and not so negligently and disobediently, not onely to suffer that straunge Knight to proffer Loue to her, but also bee a meanes to bring him into her sight, and helpe him to her spéeche, wherein you haue shewen your selfe vndutifull: Which maketh me rather to suspect you, as one ready to séeke my life, then carefull to preserue the same.

My Lorde and Father (replyed Marcellus) I trust your Maiestie doe conceyue no such thought of mée, Which haue in no degree deser­ued the same: Much lesse euer in thought disagréed in the least poynt of dutie to your decrée; Besides my Lord, I doo assuredly belieue you are misinformed of the strange Knights meaning: Whose intent is hono­rable, and from the least thought of Loue to my Sister: But there are some in credite with your Highnesse, who disquiet you too much with their flatteries, & will rather reioyce to sée all things fall out according to their reports, then be any way sorry to sée the same: whose spéeches and false informations, I trust shall not alter your good opinion of my loyaltie: Whose constant loue, duety, & obedience, shall continue firme, when their treacheries shalbe reuealed, and they found traytors: there­fore I beséeche your Highnes, both alter your conceiued displeasure a­gainst me, and the Knight of Fame, of whom so honorable report hath bene spred in most places: For it will be accounted an Acte of great dis­courtesie to vse him vnkindly.

Maximus hearing his Sonnes spéeches, in accusation of them hee most fauoured, and in defence of the Knight of Fame, against whom he was heynouslie incenst, was turned into such choller, that he gaue him this rebuke. Darest thou both enuiously accuse my Friends, and dis­loyallie pleade for my enemie? Hencefoorth presume no more into my sight, without my licence: for I will rather estéeme thée as a priuie eni­mie, then as my naturall sonne. Which when he had sayde, turning aside, Marcellus departed, maruelling who it should be that had incen­sed the King against him, being so inwardly grieued in his minde, that hee thought to leaue no meanes vnassayed to learne the trueth thereof.

[Page] Angelica before saide, being conueyed by Collimus to fa [...]e custo­die, began to conceiue such sorrow for her Fathers displeasure taken aganst the Knight of Fame: vnto whome she beganne to beare an ex­céeding Loue: Such effect had his perswasiue spéeches wrought in her gentle heart, that she entred into excéeding sorrowes, coniectururing di­uersly what disquiet that discontent might bréede, by reason of her Fa­thers iealous suspect alreadie begunne: And how the Knight of Fame might be abused in that straunge place, hauing no Friend to take his part: Which thought strooke a sudden pensiuenesse to her heart. Con­trarily, she thought that would be a meanes to trye his loyaltie, which somewhat would haue eased her heart, so that no other daunger would haue ensued thereon. At last hauing no other meanes of comfort, (nor Friend to impart her minde vnto) she called Anna vnto her, and willed her to learne how the Knight of Fame had ouerpast her Fathers dis­pleasure: but so discréetly, that none might perceiue the same: Who presently went about the businesse Angelica had enioyned her. Thus will wée leaue them all in diuers cogitations.

CHAP. XVIII.

AFter that the Knight of Fame was departed front Lybia, and Venola had knowledge thereof by Fla­uia, she continued many dayes in great sorrow, but afterwards by tract of time calming her griefe, but no whit her affection, by Flauiaes perswasions, who was priuie to all her Actions: Turned her former good Will that was grounded vpon Uertue, to lust, and mad desire: That séeing she could not by fayre meanes winne him to loue her, shee thought to leaue no meanes vnaf­sayed, eyther by force to compell him thereto, or else in some measure to be reuenged on him for his discourtesie. The minde being alwayes readie by euery perswasion, to yéelde to worke any meanes for to pro­cure desired content: euen so casting about many deuises with Flauia, one day (finding fit opportunitie when the King was in his dumpes) [Page] for Venolas sickenesse) came vnto him, and told him that the cause of his Daughters sickenesse, was procured by an exceeding flight she had taken by the discourteous vsage of the Knight of Fame, who for that cause was lately fled from the Court, which vntill that day she had con­cealed from her, neither should she euer recouer her selfe vntill she were in some hope to be reuenged of him.

The King willed her to declare the same vnto him. Flauia then be­gan as followeth. My Lord, this Knight presuming often into my Mistresse presence, by reason of the kindenesse she shewed him, for wor­king her relase in Brandemors Castle, (which hee well deserued) be­gan oftentimes to make loue to her, whom sheé answered in good sort, being vnwilling to make choise of any, but by your appointment: but in the end, his sute grew to that importancy, that he would haue no de­niall, but comming into her Chamber, chusing his fittest opportunity, when my Mistres was in her bed, and surprising her vnawares, offred her excéeding shame and villany, but being by her striuing and out-crie disappointed of his full intent, he presently fled away.

The King hearing Flauias speeches, was exceedingly enraged with furie, commanding his Knights to poste euery way, to learne where he made his abode. This newes being spread, at last came to a Knight of Natolia, who by occasion was then in the Lybian Court, who present­ly came to the King, and told him that he needed not to make inquirie for the Knight of Fame, for that he was at the Golden Tower. The King hearing that newes, was exceedinglie glad thereof, commanding his Knights to stay their iourney, writing a Letter to Maximus to this effect.

[Page] Hauing written this letter, and sealed it with his signet, he present­ly sent the same by certaine of knights to the Golden Tower, who as effectually dispatched their iourney, as he had giuen them straight charge, and arriuing at the Golden Tower, deliuered the Letter to Maximus, who hauing read the same, and well considered the circum­stance, which augmented his hatred and suspition already begunne a­gainst the Knight of Fame, presently comming to the place where hee was in talke with Marcellus, he caused him to bee apprehended, and without any other iudgement, caused him presentely to be cast into a denne of Lions, to be deuoured.

The Knight of Fame was no sooner put into the denne, but the Ly­ons made an exceeding roaring, that those without assuredly iudged him deuoured, and himselfe expected nothing but that terrible and feare­full death: but the Lyons, who by nature will not harme those of Roi­all bloud, spared his life, and not so much as offered to touch him, but were rather terrified with his presence. He being glad of this happy e­scape, began to assure himselfe that he was sprung of kingly race, which greatly comforted his heart, and added a perswasiue hope to comfort himselfe withall, that by that occasion hee should attaine to Anglicaes loue, if he could worke meanes for his releasement out of that place: most of all he wondred why Maximus had offered him that outrage. In these and such like cogitations he spent the rest of the day.

Marcellus séeing the knight whom he most dearely loued destroied, without iudgement, equity, or cause, was so inwardly inraged, that he was in minde oftentimes to work himselfe iniurie, and seek meanes of reuenge, if he knew who had been the causer therof: and not know­ing what to doe, nor in whose company to spend his time, he presently thought to goe to Angelica, whom he thought bare some good will to the knight of Fame, with her to bemoane his vntimely death: but comming to the place where she was, he would haue entred therin, but Collimus according to Maximus command, den [...] him, and that the more obstinately, for that he knew none fauoures the knight of Fame so much as he, wh [...] he mortally hated.

Marcellus beeing before sufficiently inraged, was now so much more vexed, that hee drewe his dagger, and with a violent blow stab­bed the same to Collimus heart: and withall going to Angelica, hee found her very sad, little thinking of these mischances, who seeing him [Page] in that rage, which shee soone perceiued by his behauiour, she came vn­to him, (hauing seated himselfe downe in a chaire) and desired to know the cause of his wrath.

O Sister (quoth he) this place is the harbour of cruelty, tyrannie, and dishonour, which in times past hath beene famous, and a receipt of honour, but shortly will be hated and shunned, as odious and ominous, and all procured by the foolish Diuining of a wicked Harlot, that hath filled my Fathers head with such fancies, that hee forgetteth himselfe, his Honour, and Kingly behauiour, and giueth credit to none but flat­terers and parasites, imprisoning his children, murthering his friends and séeking the subuersion of honour, and honourable knights. Oh Angelica, what should I say, or to whom should I complaine? he hath slaine Uertue, he hath destroied Honour, he hath murthered my deere Friend, that kinde and courteous knight: he hath cast the vnknowne (most honourable though vnknowne) Knight of Fame, into the Lions denne: without iudgement, iustice, right, or triall. Angelica hea­ring his words, was readie to swound with griefe, but that feare to dis­couer her loue, withheld her: but beeing not able to refraine from teares, shee withdrew her selfe aside to conceale the same, which Mar­cellus espying caught her in his armes, and said. Nay deare Sister, doe not conceale your griefe for his death from me, that loue you so much the better: and if you euer conceiued any good liking of him, I shall ho­nour you for the same: for he was worthy to be beloued of the best La­die in the world: for in him shined all points and parts of true knight­hood and honour. I cannot (quoth Angelica) denie, but that I liked [...]d loued him too: neither shall I euer doe otherwise whilest I liue, though he knew not so much: for whose death, my heart shall neuer harbour quiet, nor neuer shall thought of other loue sinke into my breast: for him had I vowed to loue, and that vow will I keepe inuio­lable, whilest life doth last.

Oh Angelica? (quoth Marcellus) had I knowne you had loued him so well, I would haue died with him, but I would haue saued his life, which was so suddenly acted and so vnexpected, that before I could recouer my sences from amazement, hee was past my reache. What cause had my Father thinke you, to seeke his destruction, but because he saw him in speech with you? Aye me (quoth Angelica) was I the cause of his death? I will then goe to him: with that such griefe op­prest her heart, that she fell downe in his armes.

[Page] Marcellus called to her Maides, who presently came thronging a­bout her, maruelling at her suddaine sickenesse: and especially Anna, who was priuy to her thoughts, and hearing Marcellus spéeches, made great lamentation. This newes was soone come to the Queenes hea­ring, who presently came running vnto the place, and hauing by her labour recouered her, entred into these speeches: Why how now An­gelica, what meanest thou to doe thy selfe this wrong? What mis­chance or sudden passion hath caused this disquiet? Then turning to Marcellus, Or can you tell Marcellus, (quoth shee) for you were by? I know not (quoth he) but I am sure wee haue all cause of little ioye, when we that are the Kings children, shall be imprisoned vpon the flat­tering report of euery dissembling Sycophant. Why (quoth shee) who hath abused you? That did Colimus (quoth hee) and him haue I re­warded. Besides, my Lord and Father hath destroied that honourable strange knight, because I loued him, who neuer deserued the least cause of such cruelty, but was alwaies honourablie esteemed in euery Kings Court, vntill it was his ill happe to arriue in this vnfortunate place, to end his life by Tyranny not by Iustice. Take heede Marcel­lus, Scandalize not your Fathers honour, which may bring you in danger: for that he hath done nothing but right, and with good con­sideration, for behold that Letter, and thou shalt soone see what a coun­terfet that Knight of Fame was.

Marcellus hauing read this Letter, was at the first suddenly amazed thereat, but yet notwithstanding, he said: vpon my life this accusati­cusation is most false and vntrue. Angelica taking the letter and re [...] ding the same, was exceedingly astonisht thereat, to whom Marcellus said. Angelica beleeue it not, for if you doe, you shall too much wrong that honourable Knight, that is too much abused already, who if hee were liuing, would soone reprooue these accusations: but hee good Knight is now dead, and past recalling, whose death will bring more dishonour to the Natolians, then euer will be recouered. Why (quoth the Quéen) what maketh thée Marcellus thus inconsiderate, by taking a strangers part, to indanger thy owne life, which knowest the Kings humor? Loue (quoth he) to that stranger, maketh mee bewaile his vntimely death, whom I would that I had excused.

The Queene seeing Angelica somewhat well recouered, departed vnto Maximus, who by that time had knowledge of Collimus death, and was meditating how to chastise Marcellus for that presumption: [Page] But the Queene vpon her knees intreated him to pardon him, allea­ging that Collimus had greatly abused him, that with much adoe the King was pacified.

Marcellus hauing somewhat comforted Angelica, in a heauie and sadde estate, departed to his chamber, and left her with her Damzell Anna, rather ready to yeelde vp the Ghoast, then otherwise likely to suruiue: and night being come, the refusing meat, went to her bed, not to sleepe, but to bewaile the Knight of Fames vntimely death.

The knight of Fame all this time remained in the Lions denne, carefully deuising which way to get out of that place tyring his senses, but finding no meanes of release. One while accusing his hard fortune, and then Maximus for his cruelty. Sometimes fearing to be famished in that place: and then comforting himselfe with perswasions of im­possible deliueries. Now dispairing to be vtterly exempt from the swéet sight of Angelica, whose absense and restraint of liberty (procured as he thought by his boldnesse) pinched his heart with extreame feare.

In this sort he continued so long, vntill he was ready to be starued, and constrained to eate such vnsauory foode as was daily cast to the Lions. Angelica likwise no whit mittigated her griefe, but rather aug­mented the same: being much comforted by Marcellus, whose minde was not yet satisfied with sufficient consideration of these mischances, both hee and Angelica continued as it were in a further hope in their fancies of the Knight of Fames safty: though when they beganne to comfort themselues with any perswasions, they were quite past hope. Maximus likewise hauing considered with what seueritie hee had vsed the Knight, and that he had condemned him without any triall of the accusation that had been vsed by his Knights, euer since his death, (be­ganne to tell a remorse in his conscience of vniustice) but by the set­led opinion that was stirred in his heart by those false Prophesies, hee soone shooke the same off.

Camillus all this time, likewise noted what iealous suspition the King heard of him, and hauing heard the report why he kept his daugh­ter so strongly guarded, and of set purpose withheld her from his sigh [...], and noting how suddenly the Knight of Fame was made away, with­out any cause of offence giuen, he began to feare himselfe, and b [...] [...] meanes, durst not shew any signe of desire to sée Angelica, [...]st b [...] [...] meanes hee should seeke some occasi [...] of quarrell with him, and [...]se [Page] him like the stanger: within a while departed from the Golden Tower, [...]tending notwithstanding, either with force or faite meanes, to at­taine her possession.

CHAP. XIX.

THe next day after Camillus departure, which Maxi­mus perceiued was with a discontented minde, the kéeper of the Lyons denne, came to make cleane the same, and vsed his wonted manner, which was to set open those places that were cleane, into which the Lions would soone enter, and hauing fast bol­ted the dores, and beeing owner of the Lyons, er­tred into the denne, where the knight of Fame was, who suddenly caught hold on him, hauing before secertly shrow­ded himselfe from his sight, and beeing carefull to prouide for his owne safty, snatcht from his side a hanging Sword: the Keeper knowing him, maruelling to see him aliue, and exceedingly astonished at his sight, held vp his hands for mercy, to whom the Knight of Fame saide. My freinde, I séeke not thy life, but mine owne safety, beeing as thou seest, preserued by Diuine prouidence by the Kings cruelty, by him vniustly cast into this place, without any cause of offence: but wrongfully, as thou maiest perceiue by my preseruation: for if my facte had deserued punishment, no doubt I could not haue escaped the crueltie of these executioners, hauing endured great danger of famish­ment. Now my request vnto thee is, that thou wouldest but suffer me to depart from hence, without descrying me, for I haue no reason to trust to Maximus courtesie, and hauing already endured this miserie by his crueltie: which thou maiest well doe, without endangering thy selfe any kinde of way, for there is none but doth assuredly thinke I am dead.

The Keeper hearing his spéeches, and withall, seeing how admi­rably hee was preserued, and also fearing his owne death, assured him by many vowes and protestations, not onely doe that which hee had desire [...], but also would most faithfully execute what other thing soeuer [Page] he should command, to his vttermost power. Will thou then (quoth he) doe this for me? Giue me the keyes, and make fast the doore, so that thou canst not goe from mee, and then call downe thy boy, and send him to Marcellus, to request him to come to thee, but in such sort, that the boy may not see me, and also to doe his message secretly: which the Keeper told him, he would most willinglie performe. Then directing the Knight of Fame how to locke the doore, that he could not escape, hee called downe the boy, who presently came to him, whom he comman­ded to séeke out Marcellus secretly, and to desire him, that he would vouchsafe to come and speake with him, about a matter of great im­portance. The boy hauing receiued his message, immediatly hasted to execute the same: and most fortunatly met him in the outer Court, to whom he declared the cause of his comming. Marcellus maruelling why the Keeper had sent for him, presently began to remēber the knight of Fame, with which his heart began to throb: but hasting down to the den, the keeper commanded his boy to depart: and humbling himselfe to Marcellus, told him that the knight of Fame was stil liuing. Which said, he ran in vnto him (who had shrowded himselfe from his sight) and told him Marcellus was come: then presently hee came foorth, whom Marcellus espying, with great reioicing, caught him in his armes, and most louingly embraced him, seeming to be reuiued with ioy, in respect of the care opprest his minde before hee had knowledge of his safetie. Manie courteous greetings past on either side, Marcellus de­sired the Keeper not to reueale this secret to any: for if it should come te my Fathers hearing, it were impossible then to preuent his rigour: and withall promised him, that if he would let him lodge in his house but that night, he would reward him most bountifullie: and withall promised him to higher dignity, and to such place of account, as that hee would haue good cause to reioice, that euer the Knight of Fame came within his house. The Keeper both drawne by his owne good in­clination, and also by the hope of reward and preferrement, beeing but poore, promised his vttermost aide and assistance to pleasure him, and withall, to performe his full desire, with such security that none should conceiue any suspition thereof: with that they altogether departed vp into his Lodge, where the knight of Fame refreshed himself [...] with comfortable meates, beeing exceeding glad (as hee had good cause) of this successe: and [...]endring many thanks to Marcellus (who well deser­ued the same.) [Page] Marcellus being yet somewhat troubled in his minde about the Letter the King of Lybia had sent, and desirous to be satisfied of the truth therein, taking the Knight of Fame aside, from the hearing of the kee­per, said as followeth.

Sir Knight, although I haue shewen you this fauour and friend­ship, which my fancie often perswaded mee to refnse, yet vrged by the good will I beare you, and for other considerations which I will yet conceale from you, I could not choose but reioice at your safety, and worke what meanes I can for your preseruation: yet there remaineth a grudging in my conscience against you, vntill you assure me by your faithfull oath, to satisfie me of the truth of my doubt without fraud: for if that be true which is alleaged against you by the affirmation of a king, you deserue the punishment my Father inflicted vpon you, and rather to be generally hated, then beloued at all. Most honourable Knight (quoth he) I know my selfe so cleare from all such villany, as that I sweare and protest by my life, by Heauen, and by all the good that euer I expect, which I desire to turne to my destruction, it I tell you not the very truth.

Then (quoth Marcellus) the same day that the King my Father caused you to be throwne into the Lyons den, the king of Lybia sent hi­ther certaine of his Knights, with a Letter, wherein he accused you to haue most shamefully dishonoured his Daughter Venola, desiring my Father to dispatch you out of the way: for your life and nothing else might appease his ire: which was the cause of his cruelty.

My Lord (quoth the knight of Fame) vpon mine honour, my former oath, and by all other truth and fidelity, this accusation is most vniust, false, and vntrue: which if I may by your fauour in whose hands my life now resteth) haue liberty to approue, I will maintaine the contrary, euen in the gates of the king of Lybia, and cause my accusers to con­fesse the contrary: neither did I euer seeke loue at that Ladies hands, by whose dishonourable meanes this false accusation is raised against mee.

Deare friend (qd. Marcellus) you haue said inough, and I rest assured­ly satisfied of your loialty. The knight of Fame was so inwardly vexed with this accusation that he was halfe mad with griefe, but chiefly, for that hee thought it was come to Angelicas hearing, and might bee a meanes to cause her vtterly to forsake him: which appalled his sences, with extreame vexation, that he stood like one transformed.

[Page] Marcellus perceyuing his Discontent, desired him not to bee grieued but to ouerpasse the same, vntill hee hadde meanes to prooue the con trarie.

My Lord (replyed he;) How can I chuse but be sorrie, when there­by I am dishonoured in euery mans opinion; Which I account more dearer then my life? Besides, with what impatiencie may I shew my selfe before any Knight liuing, but rather rid my hated selfe out of this miserable life, which is the next way to salue this blemish. But if you will vouchsafe c [...] heare the true reporte of the miseries I haue endured euer since my byrth, you would say that I am the onely Mappe of sor­row, and borne to perpetuall calamitie. I desire nothing more (quoth Marcellus;) With that hée rehearsed to him all that hee could, of his bringing vppe in the Iland of Rockes, his departure▪ from thence, and Shipwracke at Sea: How hee was entertained by Duke Amasenus in Thrace, and the treacherie that was intended against him there, by Corus and Argalus; then of his successe in the Kings Court of Thrace, and the occasion why he departed from thence to the Forrest of Arde: and how there hee mette the Prince of Bohemia, and released Venola: Then how Venola songht his Loue: and how she gaue him (by subtil­tie) a somniferous Potion, to withhold his departure with Parismus, which he had purposed: and how afterwards perceiuino her intent, de­parted from the [...]e.

Withall, hee declared the manner of the Uision that appeared vnto him in Thrace, and how hee was thereby enioyned to seeke out the faire [...]adie that had appeared vnto him, and sue for her Loue, which was the cause that he both refused Phylenas marriage, and Venolaes proffer of kindnesse: and also he declared how he first arriued in that Countrey: and met Angelica, which was the very same Lady that appeared vn­to him in the vision; and also told him, that he was likewise enioyned to seeke out his Parēts, which the vision told him were of great birth. This (quoth he) is the true discourse of my forepassed life, which I ne­uer yet manifested to any but your selfe, whose fauour hath farre sur­mounted my desert, into whose hands I commit my selfe to bee dispo­sed of: desiring you not to conceiue amisse of mee, for that false accu­sation being most vntrue.

Marcellus againe embracing him in his armes, desired him like­wise, not to thinke that hee did any way conceiue the least euill opinion of him, but that he did esteeme of him, as the dearest friend he had in [Page] the World, and that he did both loue and honour him as himselfe, and would neuer forsake him whilest hee liued, but continue his faithfull friend for euer. Hauing in this sort made a new league of amitie, Mar­cellus left the Knight of Fame to his priuate meditations, promising to returne to him very shortly, going directly to Angelica, whome hee found continuing her woonted sadnes: For shee could by no meanes be comforted, but still augmented her Loue, by remembring the Knight of Fames person, to whom she bare such intire affections, that she resolued neuer to Loue any other Knight, but determined to spende the whole date of her life in single estate.

Marcellus sudden Approach brake off her silent pensiuenesse, by his countenance shewing a heart replenisht with ioy, which hee vttered in this sort. Angelica (qd. hee) cast off this sadde countenance, for I bring you newes of more comfort: for the Knight of Fame is liuing, and pre­serued by admirable meanes. Oh Brother (quoth she) this newes can­not be true, which will nip my heart with griefe to heare of, and be dis­appointed therein. Sister (qd. he) it is so, neither maruell thereat, for his innocencie in the fact laide to his charge, hath I thinke caused the Gods to pitty him: besides, thereby you may be assured, hee is borne of royall blood, who is now in the Kéepers house in safety, with whome I haue bene these two hours: Now cast off these discontents and clowds of care, for there is no further cause of disquiet for his supposed death.

Angelica then verily belieuing his wordes, saide: Good brother tell me how he doeth, for whose safetie I reioyce? For of all the Knights that euer I behelde, I neuer liked nor loued any so well: desiring you withall, to kéep my counsell, (hauing bewrayed my secrets to none else) and not let him know so much as I haue tolde you. Then should both you and I doo him wrong (qd. he) for he hath well deserued loue, and es­pecially at your hands: to whom by his owne report, he hath long ago dedicated himselfe, and not onely of his owne inclination, but of a high command: for the truth of which, he hath vpon trust of my secrecie, re­uealed vnto me, which you shall likewise heare: then he discoursed the whole truth, euen as the Knight of Fame had before done: which when she heard, she said: What a discourteous Lady is that Venola, to séeke the ouerthrow of so Woorthy a Knight? and how may I estéeme him, that before he knew mee, was so constant in his Loue, without hope of my fauour, and refused the proffred loue of two such Ladies for my sake; besides the perill he hath endured in my search: and peraduenture is [Page] sprung of greater byrth then my selfe. And now also by my Parents doome was put in that hazard of his life. Good Brother be you careful [...] of his good, and whatsoeuer you shall counsell me too, I will doo: If my Father should know of his safety, then were there no means for him to escape death: For such a hard conceit of suspect doth possesse his minde, that he hateth all those that beare me any shewe of good Will.

Well (quoth Marcellus) rest you contented, and still continue your louetowards him, to increase and not diminish the same, who is by de­stiny alloted to be your husband: the care of whose welfare let be my charge: for I so much loue and esteeme him, both for his own and your sake, that I will leaue no meanes vnassayed, whereby to do you good: which said, hee againe departed to the Knight of Fame. By this time the darke night approached, and Marcellus and the knight of Fame were deuising what meanes to vse for his safetie, and to procure the desired content Angelica expected, who before had giuen herconsent to [...] ruled by her Brother: that by the assurance he had of her, hee put the knight of Fame in assured comfort of her loue, by relating in some sort (the contents of Angelicas conference before had with him, which af­fected his heart with greater ioy, thē euer before he had endured griefe: that his escape from death did not comfort his heart so much as this happy news. At last Marcellus said: Noble knight you see how strictly my father gardeth Angelica, that there is no meanes lef [...]t to ease your greefe or her care by tarrying here: neither can you without great ha­zard of your life, remaine within the circuit of this Tower: for that my Father suspecteth euery one, yea his owne children, whereby we are tired with those troubles, and would willingly worke any meanes to ease our selues, & especially Angelica hath ben mewed vp so closely, that shee I am sure would vndertake any thing to enioy her libertie, were it in neuer so poore estate, wherein in my opinion is many thousand of sweete contents to bee found, rather then in this troublesome Pompe, which is repleat with infinit cares.

Therefore this is my censure, that you shall this night (as I will direct you) depart from hence, and go to Saint Austins Chappell, not farre hence, and there stay for mee, vntill to morrow morning, where remaineth an olde religious Priest, named Iabine, who if you say you come from mee, wil assuredly giue you entertainement: which when you haue done, I will so worke with my Sister Angelica, [Page] that hee shall condescend by such meanes as I will worke for her secret escape, to come to you: by which I hope I shall end the doubts that pos­sesse my Fathers minde, ridde their Countrey of the scandall it is likely to runne into: and worke both mine owne, yours, and Angelicaes con­tent: for so dearely doo I loue her, that had I many liues to loose, I would hazard them all to worke her releasement: For were she once marryed, then should the date of the foolish Prophecie haue an ende. The Knight of Fame hearing his spéeches, which only tended to worke the content, hée aboue all things in the World sought, could not well containe him­selfe from expressing immeasurable ioy, but yéelding many humble and harty thanks to Marcellus, both commended his deuise, and also intrea­ted him to goe forward with the same.

Then Marcellus called the Kéeper, asking his counsell, if he knew any way whereby the Knight of Fame might getont of the Castle promi­sing him a good reward: and withall, pulling from his necke a Chaine of gold, gaue him the same. The Kéeper being inticed with this reward, (Gold hauing that force, to make thimgs impossible come to effect) pre­sently tolde them he hadde a Deuise that might goe for Currant, if the Knight would vndertake the same. I haue my Lord (quoth he) a Ues­sell of great largenesse, which sometimes sorted for other vses, which if wée could deuise to let downe into the Lake, he might easily in that get ouer vnto the other side: Which deuise Marcellus and the Knight of Fame both liked. And about Midnight, when all things were at rest, they put the same in practise, and by a Rope lette the Uessell downe: Which swamme most currantly.

Then fastening a Rope about the Knight of Fames middle, and after that (With many fayre promises and protestations of perpetuall Friendship) they had taken theyr leaues, the Kéeper and Marcellus lette him downe: Who was so heauie, by reason of the waight of his owne bodie, and his Armour, that they had much adoo from letting him fall, and being in the Uessell, was like to sinke in the same. But with much adoo (and great daunger of Drowning) by reason of the tottering and vnsted fastnes of the Uessell, which with euery little Weyght more on one side then on the other, was ready to ouerturne, hee got on to the Bancke, which was so stéepe vpwards, that hée had much adoo to clime vp the saine, but was oftentimes readie to fall downe backwardes into the Lake vnder him, which was of an excéeding great and huge depth: [Page] but hauing happily escaped both those daungers, hée departed towards Saint Augustins chappell, according to such dyrections Marcellus had giuen him to finde the same. Marcellus and the Kéeper drewe vp the Uessell, and betooke themselues to theyr rest.

The Knight of Fame had not well remembred Marcellus spéeches, and therfore hauing gone some halfe mile from the Golden Tower, fea­ring to wander out of the way, he tooke vp his lodging vnder a Cipresse Trée, spending the whole Night in manifolde meditations, of the suc­cesse of his businesse: Being oftentimes in great doubt, and dispairing of neuer séeing Angelica again, drawne to that feare by reason of Maxi­mus Iealousie, and the diligent Watche hee had set in euery corner of the said Tower, but especially at the entrance: Where none went out and in, but the Gardiants searched them, that his minde was sometimes wrackt with dispaire▪ and sometimes animated to comfort by the assu­red trust he had in Marcellus. The Night béeing by him in this sort spent, in the Morning hee betooke himselfe againe to his Iourney, and with ease found out Saint Austins chappell: and knocking at the chap­pell doore, it was iong before any came, but at last he beheld olde Iabin standing behinde him; Who had bene abroade very early, and then re­turned, whome the Knight of Fame most kindely saluted. Iabin mar­uelling to sée one in Armour, demanded what he would haue?

Right reuerend Father (quoth hée,) I am sent hither vnto you by Marcellus; Whose request is that you would▪ for his sake vouchsafe my secrete abode with you vntill his cōming, which wilbe this day, if other contrary occasion hinder him not. Iabin noting his comely proporti­on, & willing to doo any thing for Marcellus sake, brought him into his Cell, adioyning to his chappel, and welcomed him so kindly as he could.

CHAP. XX.

MArcellus early in the Morning, came to Angelica, who still con­tinued pensiue, to whome he declared what hadde passed betwixt him and the Knight of Fame, and withall, of the promise he had made him, to bring her to Saint Austins Chappell: Which when An­gelica [Page] hearing, she said: Brother, How can this be effected, when you sée so many impossibilities to hinder our intent, that we shall but spend much labour to little effect, and also rather bring my Fathers heauy dis­pleasure against vs, then reape any comfort? Whose crueltie you sée is such, that hee will, if hée should finde out our drifte, punish vs with seueritie: Besides, if it should come to that passe: What excuse could you finde to pacifie his ire? Therefore I thinke it best, that wee neuer hazard our selues, but rather be contented with our quiet estate, least a worse mischaunce light vpon vs thereby.

Syster (quoth Marcellus) your counsell is good, but yet heare what I shall say: The life you leade is but miserable, being kept like a Pri­soner; Whereas, if you could but winne this liberty, you should enioy your fill of hearts content, and be a meanes to rid my Father and vs all from the doubts we may now endure. Besides, if you loued that wor­thy Knight; Whose constancie to you-wards is without compare, you would for his fake refuse no perill. Why brother (qd. she) what néede you make any such doubt when I haue said sufficient alreadie, vnlesse you thinke me to dissemble? For such is my loue and good Will, that I will more willingly vndertake any means to attaine his company, then he can desire: not drawne by your perswasion, but of my own voluntary will: which haue made some doubt of this attempt, because I am feare­full of your ill, and carefull of your good: but whatsoeuer you shal coun­saile me vnto, I will execute. Which said, they began to studie and con­sult how to bring their businesse about: but were so confounded in their thoughts, that they thought it altogether impossible.

Now Maximus being ridde of Camillus company, and assured of the Knight of Fames death, gaue his minde to more quiet, then during the time of their being there hée had done: and being wearie with care, thought to recreate himselfe by some exercise: therefore hée appointed the very same day to ride on hunting: and to that intent hée was early vp, sending for Angelica to goe with the Quéene, euen at that instant when shée was deuising with Marcellus: which opportunitie fell out most conueniently to further their intent, which Marcellus told her he would determine of.

Angelica immediately went downe with the messenger: and with the King and Quéene, Marcellus and diuers others departed out of the tower. Marcellus all that day kept diligent company with Angeli­ca, vntill the king being earnest in pursuite of the game strayed from [Page] them: the Quéene likewise was absent, and most of Angelicas gar­diants, sauing some sixe, béeing indeede such as Marcellus had before made priuie to his intent, who had firmely protested to kéepe his coun­saile: which opportunitie Marcellus tooke, and presently conueyed Angelica towards Saint Austins Chappell: being without y^e Parke, when they thought themselues farre inough from the King, they were vnawares set vpon by a company of strange knights, who offered by force to carrie away Angelica.

Marcellus being somewhat astonisht thereat, drew his sword, and being before well prouided, withstood them. Angelicas gardyants did the like: that on a suddaine there began a cruell combat betwixt them, vntill Marcellus was gréeuously wounded, one of his company slain, and the rest in as great danger as might be: but being a knight of ex­céeding courage, he defended himselfe most valiantly. So long conti­nued the fight, that in the meane time, some of the kings company, ha­uing the charge of Angelica, mist her, which hée soone declared to the king, who commaunded his knights to poste euery way by seuerall troupes: himselfe and the Quéene well guarded, tooke the readiest way out of the Parke: which was the same way Marcellus and An­gelica had taken, and hasting, came to the place where they were, in the hottest of their skyrmish.

The straunge knights espying the King, presently fledde away, with all possible spéede, whom many of the Natolians pursued so farre, vntill they might descrie a band of Souldiers: wherewith they retur­ned with all expedition possible, and certified the King thereof, who presently hasted to the Golden Tower, with the Quéene, Marcel­lus, and Angelica in his companie: and by reason of the straungers hée saw in fight with Marcellus, hée hadde not the least suspition of Angelicaes entended flight: and maruailing what that Armie should meane, hée sent out spyes to viewe of what force they were, who hauing done in all poynts accordingly, they went and certified him that they were tenne thousand Souldiers, but they could not discerne vnder whose conduct.

Maximus fearing the worst, presently sent letters to the Nobles of his Land, with all expedition to muster vp theyr forces, and to con­uey them to the Golden Tower: and also caused most diligent watch and warde to be kept.

[Page] Marcellus being most grieuously Wounded, was like wise with all cure tended by the Kings Physitions, to whom Angelica repaired: and bee­ing with him alone, she said as followeth.

What misery awayteth my hard Desteny, that am thus disastredly deteyned from my wished content? My euill presaging minde, did fore­tell this misfortune, which hath thus frustrated our desire, and which is more miserable, brought you to this dangerous estate: but most of all withhold me from the fight of my beloued, and causeth him both to aug­ment his cares, and suspect our loyaltie. What will he thinke when he seeth no performance of that which was promised, but still stayeth for our comming, and yet be frustrated? For the knowledge of our mis­chance, can by no meanes come to his hearing. Would to God that I had ended my accursed life, by the hands of those enemyes, rather then to haue suruiued to endure this extreame care. No hard fortune can be compared to that I endure, no care comparable to my griefe.

First, to sée you thus grieuously Wounded: Next to be disappoin­ted of our desire: and lastly, to frustrate the Knight of Fame of his ex­pectation. What shall wée now doe? How shall wee recure this mis­hap? Or what meanes is there left, that may adde the least comfort to our hearts in this extremitie? In stéed of the content I expected by en­ioying his presence, I am returned to my woonted bondage: and sée my Friends almost murdred and enuironed with foes. Peace, peace, (qd. Marcellus) good Angelica, ceasse these complaints, and in this extremi­tie, imitate the olde Phrase: Make a vertue of necessity, and with pa­tience giue attendance for better successe: For now in these perplexities, there is small hope of present amendment: For that Worthy knight no doubt is of such Wisedome and prudent gouernment, that hee will iudge the best of our estate, and carefully prouide for his owne safetie. With that Angelica burst foorth into abundante of teares, saying. Aye mée poore Wretch, I shall neuer then sée him againe. With that shee departed, wringing her handes, and making great lamentation, so that Marcellus séeing her sorrowe, was ready to worke his owne decay by his vexation.

Nowe those Bandes of Souldiers belonging to Camillus, who presently after his departure from the Castle of the Golden Tower, en­during manie restlesse Passions, for the want of Angelicaes presence, with whome hee was full greatly in Loue: with all spéed mustered vp [Page] those forces, and brought them by shipping towards the Tower, with intent to besiege the same, and suddenly to surprise Maximus vna­wares, and so to get the possession of Angelica: and comming towards the Golden Tower with a few in his company, whilest the rest mar­ched after him, he met Marcellus and Angelica, and knowing them, thought without any more trouble to take her away, but was disap­pointed as is declared.

The knight of Fame being with olde Iabine, spent much part of the day in conference with him, maruelling that hee heard not from Mar­cellus: but when it was darke night, his minde was rackt with excée­ding care and vexation, and being without any hope of his comming, hee was as much grieued how to satisfie Iabine, whom hee thought would now suspect him of falsehood: and might suppose hee came not from Marcellus. Therefore he said as followeth.

Father, I maruell that I haue not heard from Marcellus, according to his promise, which maketh mee thinke that some crosse mischance hath hindred him, that may breed in you some misconceit of mee, that haue in his name come vnto you, which if you doe, you shall much in­iurie me: for it was he that sent me hither, as I could assure you by di­uers probable reasons.

Sir knight (quoth he) I pray bee not troubled with any thought, for you are welcome to me, though Marcellus had not sent you, which I make no doubt of, but so well doe I loue him, as that whatsoeuer com­meth in his name, shall by the strickt obseruance I beare to that name, command me any seruice.

Afterwards they went to their repast, with such sparing diet as the Priest vsed, and after Supper to bedde: where the Knight of Fame could take no rest at all, but yet lay very quietly, because he was loath to trouble his Host: with which restraint of liberty of speech, and other passions that opprest his sences, he endured that tedious night in great torment, which seemed longer then many nights would haue done, if he might haue had liberty to vtter his lamentations, which boiled in his breast like the violence of a mighty flame pend within a small com­passe.

Early the next morning, Iabine went foorth for to prouide food, and left the knight of Fame alone, who then vttered many complaints, but at last finding fault with himselfe for vrging that effeminate kind of la­mentation, he striuing to ouermaster his passions, which the more hee [Page] laboured to asswage, the more they increased.

In this s [...]rt he continued all that day and the next, and many daies after, still being in good hope of Marcellus approach: but when he saw so long time past, and he could heare no newes from him, hée beganne to accuse him of dicourt [...]e and di [...]yaltie, for breaking his promise: and withall, grew into a setled perswasion, that both hée and Angeli­ca had quite forsaken him: which added griefe to griefe, and more care and vexation to his minde, not knowing what to do, nor which way to shape his course: that arming himselfe one day, hée mounted himselfe, and wandred in a melancholly studie towards the golden Tower, and by chance met with two of Maximus knights, who were excée­dingly astonisht at his sight, taking him to be a ghost: but he drawing nigh to them, they beganne to flye, which hée perceiuing, thought to stay the one of them, to haue some further spéech with him, that char­ging his launce at him, and hitting him full, ouerthrewe him to the ground: the other being therewith excéedingly trrified fledde. The Knight to Fame alighting, comming to him that he had ouerthrowne, thus said.

Knight, thou néedest not to haue fledde from me, for I intended thee no harme, but was desirous to knowe some newes of thée, which if thou wilt tell me, I will let thee depart: otherwise thou shalt neuer es­cape my hands. The knight maruelling to heare him speake, whom he thought had bene a ghost, made this reply. Pardon me good sir, for I tooke you to be another then I sée you are, but if I may know what you will commaund me I will doe it. (Quoth he) tell me how fareth Marcellus? Sir (quoth he, at this instant helyeth very weake, by rea­son of many grieuous wounds hée receiued not long since: where hée declared the whole trueth of that which had happened by Maximus meanes, since which time (quoth hée) the King hath set such secrete watch about the Tower, that none goeth in nor out without his pri­uitie.

The Knight of Fame hauing heard his spéeches, departed backe to Iabine, to whom hee declared the trueth of all that he had heard, being very sory for Marcellus hurt, and well waying euery circumstance of that report, thought that when Marcellus was gotten with Ange­lica out of the Parke so slightly attended, it was to come to him: which added some comfort to his heart, being fully assured thereby, that An­gelica had not forsaken him.

[Page] By this time the Natolian that escaped from the knight of Fame, was come to the Golden Tower, and comming before the King, [...]elde him that hee had met the Knight of Fame: whereat hee beganne to laugh: but presently came the other, who iustified the same words: alleadging that it was the knight of Fame, and that he had both talked with him, and knew him, affirming the same most constantly. Maximus woon­dring thereat, was almost astonisht at their wor [...]s, that he determined to send all his knights to search for him, and the occasion now most fit­ly serued: for the Nobles had according to his commaund, gathered a number of forces together, which Camillus séeing, being vnprouided to withstand such force, but comming for another intent, immediately returned with his souldiers towards his country, and Maximus now seeing the coast cleare of enemies, presently sent foorth Knights euery way to finde the Knight of Fame.

Thus newes was soone come to Marcellus and Angelicas hearing, which filled their hearts with exceeding care and feare, leaste hee should bee apprehended: this bredde new sorrowes in their troubled thoughts, but principally in Angelicas, whose lone was growne to such perfection, that it was impossible to remooue the same: that get­ting to her chamber, shée entred into many heauy complaints, able to haue rent the stoniest harts of the cruellest tyrants: whom Anna com­forted by all means she could deuise: to whom Angelica said; Oh Anna (quoth she) little doest thou know the torments my heart doth endure, for wert thou so much inthralled as I am, & to so worthy a knight as he is, thou mightest then haue some insight into my sorrowes, but being ignorant therein, how canst thou giue me counsell: haue I not cause to sorrow; nay rather to runne made with sorrow, to see the danger that worthy Knight is now in, hauing so lately escaped a most miserable death, by my Fathers censure [...] without cause, who not contented there with, nor satisfied in his minde, hath now sent out many Knights to search for him: who [...] they finde him, will bring him back, or by vio­lence destroy him, whose death shall be the end of my life: for I haue vowed, if my Father seeke his mine hee shall also see my death, for I will not liue one hou [...] after him: in which complaintes we still conti­nued without intermission.

It fortuned most happily, that Iabin was gone foorth [...] S. Austines Chappell, & left the knight of Fame in his Cell, meeting with many of the Natolian knights, who demāded if he saw not such [...] describing [Page] well as they could) the knight of Fame, whom he answered al after one sort that he had not seen any such: but maruelling at their earnest inqui­rie, he demanded what that knight might bee: one of them tolde him, that hee was called the Knight of Fame, who lately arriued in that Country, and was kindly entertained by Maximus, but especially of Marcellus, and hauing in some sort offended the King, was by him afterwards throwne into the Lions den, by reason of a letter the King of Libia sent, wherein he accused him to haue dishonoured Venola his onely daughter, whom that day was seene and spoken withall. Iabine hearing his spéeches wondred thereat: yet notwithstanding was care­full lest the knight of Fame should bee found abroad, whom hee now beganne greatly to esteeme, both that he deemed him to be sprung of royall [...], and also for that Marcellus made estimation of him, who he thought knew him cleare of those accusations, or else he would not haue fauoured him so much: that with all speed hee hasted to his Cell, where being entred he found the Knight of Fame very sadde, and fast bolting the Chappell doore, he came to him, saying. Worthy knight, I am glad that I haue found you here, for were you abroad, there are such a number of Knights in search of you, that it were impossible to es­cape them. For mée (qd. he) I thinke you are deceyued. Yea (qd. he) if you are called the Knight of Fame, and lately escaped out of the Lyons den. With that his colour changed. Nay (qd, Iabin) feare not, you shall be here as safe as your hart can wish, for this place is no way suspected, therefore thinke your selfe secure: then Iabin declared vnto him all that had hapned, and what he had heard. Wherevpon the Knight of Fame likewise finding him faithfull and secret, declared vnto him the whole discourse of his Trauels, only leauing out the vision which appeared to him in Thrace; Asking his counsell what to doo, and entring into ma­ny sad discourses, how he was still crossed in his expectation: and with­all, told him that he knew not which way to trauel in search of his Pa­rents, which if he could attaine, then he would not doubt but to reuenge the iniurious wrongs done him. Syr Knight (qd. Iahin) I think it best that you trauell in search of them, and that presently: in the mean time these troubles by forgetfulnes wilbe well ouer-blowne, & then you may haue the better opportunity to go forwards w^t any intent you shall af­terward put in practise: for if you stay here, you may vnfortunately be descryed, or the Kings iealousie is such, that hee will leaus no meanes vnattempted to worke your death.

[Page] Father (quoth he) your counsell is good, which I will put in practise, not voluntarily, but forced thereto in regard of mine owne preseruation: requesting this one fauour at your handes, that you would by some meanes remember my humble dutie to that honourable knight Mar­cellus: and tell him that it shall not be long ere I returne: desiring him in the meane time (according to his former curtesie, which hath bin ex­tended farrebeyond my desert) to remaine my friend, and remember mée to Angelica. I will (quoth Iabine) fulfil your request in euery re­spect. But first quoth hée) I think most conuenient you change your armor, for that in that you are easily knowne: and I haue one within, that is euery way of as good proofe. The Knight of Fame liked his de­uice excéedingly well, and armed himselfe in that armour, which was very rich and costly, guilded all ouer with gold and Amell, without any deuise to be knowne by: and in that armour the next night hée de­parted, taking his leaue of olde Iabine, with many courtesies, being most vnwilling to leaue his company: and parting with a heauy heart, for that hee went to vndertake a newe trauell, which might detaine him long from returning to Angelica: and by good fortune, that night hée gat out of the countrey, and past the search of the Natolians, whom hée did not care to méete withall, but that he would not thereby hinder the speede of his iourney.

CHAP. XXI.

AFter that the Knight of Fame was past the boundes of Natolia, hee arriued in an exceeding great plaine, where hee sawe many readie pathes, but knew not which of them to take: at last a suddaine thought and remembrannce of Parismus entered his fancy, which so fully possest his minde, that the thought and rembembrance of Parismus entred his fancie, which so fully possest his minde, that the thought thereof, would by no meanes remooue, which was so effectually wrought in him by a natural effect, for there were his Parents, & no where else, which caused nature it self, to pitty his restlesse Passions, and no longer to procrastinate his [Page] felicitie, that hée fully and resolutelie determined to trauell thi­ther.

Whither afterwards with long trauell he attained, hauing great desire to sée Parismus againe, to whom his heart had vowed euerla­sting friendship. And now drawing nigh the Court, in the afternoone when the sunne had with his scorching beames made the season hotte, hée heard a gréeuous complaint, as it séemed to his hearing, of some di­stressed ladie, which made him stay to listen which way that crie came, and by the voyce, drawing nigh vnto the place, he espied vnder the sha­dowe of a heape of Elmes, a knight in Armour, and a Lady at his féete, who were the same that made that mone. The knight of Fame com­ming neare them, they both espyed him, to the Ladies comfort: but the Knight presently tooke vppe his shield, and addressed himselfe for his de­fence.

The Knight of Fame well noting the Ladies countenance, re­membred that hée had seene her, but hée could not remember where, which caused him the more willingly to helpe her: being otherwise of his owne vertuous inclination, readie to succour any distressed Ladie: that comming to her, demanded her cause of sorrowe: but shée being rea­die to make him answere, and holding vp her hands to craue his pit­tie, y^e other knight setting his sword against her breast, vowing, that if the spake one word, he would thrust the same through her body: which the Knight of Fame séeing, thinking he went about to stay her, with his sword drawne, rusht violently against him, and ouerthrew him: but gi­uing him leaue to recouer his féete, he said: Traiterous villaine, why offerest thou this Lady such discourtesie, being ashamed she should de­clare thy treachery: which mauger thy hart, I will know before we two part: with that he lent him such a blow, that he made him stagger: the Knight thought himselfe now in worse case then euer he had bene: but notwithstanding, hée resisted the knight of Fame most couragiously for a space, but hée being the most gallantest Knight in the world, soone brought him in great daunger of his life: which when the knight saw and felt, he stayed himselfe, and said; Knight, before the combat conti­nue any longer, let me know your name? I will not shew thée that fa­uour (quoth the knight of Fame) but wish thée yéelde thy selfe: neither will I shew thée that fauour (quoth he) with that hée began the combat againe, being scarce able to lift vp his sword, by reason of his fainte­nesse by effusion of blood, intending to ende his life: which the Knight [Page] of Fame perceiuing, clasped him in his armes, & with violence wrung his sword out of his hands, and by force made him yeelde, hauing [...] weapon to offend himselfe nor his aduersary.

The Ladie seeing her selfe thus fortunately deliuered, comming to the knight of Fame, desired him to pittie her estate, and not to forsake her vntill she were come to the Bohemian court. With that, the knight of Fame was excéedingly glad, saying Lady, I will not forsake you, but sée you there in safetie, for thither am I bound. But I pray you (quoth he) let me know your name, for that I haue I am sure séene you about the Forest of Adre? Violetta with that was drawne into a great ad­miration what hée should bée, at last shée said: my name is Violetta, that am ordained to perpetuall miserie, beeing indéede by the trecherie of a disloyall knight named Archas, driuen to wander thither­wards.

The knight of Fame then immediately remembring her, but bée­ing vnwilling to discouer himselfe, questiōed no more with her, but on­ly asked her what that knight was: Sir knight (quoth she) I know him not, nor why he hath offered me this outrage. Which said, the knight of Fame forced him to go with them, and so they departed towards the court, where very soone they arriued. Now it hapned, that Paris­mus at that very instant was in the court, who espying Violetta ac­companied by two knights, the one of them being greeuously woūded and as it were by his countenaunde, & manner of forced comming, see­ming captiue to the other, and not knowing of any misaduenture that had befallen her, wondred thereat: and comming to her, not wel know­ing in what sort to salute those Knights, being ignorant of the cause of their cōming, he demāded where she had bin? My Lord (quoth she) this knight, meaning the knight of Fame, hath preserued me from the disho­nor of this most discourteous knight, intended against me, as I will de­clare vnto you presently. With that Parismus most kindly embraced the knight of Fame, departing altogither into the presence, where was the king & Queene, Pollipus, Laurana, & many others. Pollipus seeing Violetta amōgst those strange knights, maruelled thereat, but she com­ming before the king vpō her knees, desired instice against the woūded knight: the king told her that shee should haue iustice. Violetta then said, as followeth. Most mightie king, I beseech you regard my com­plaint: reuenge the monstrous wrong don me by this most wicked and abhominable homicide, who hath offered monstrous outrage: for this [Page] afternoone, attended by my damozell, I went forth of the court into the groue adioyning to the garden, to recreate my selfe in the cooly shade: where I had not long stayed, but this discurteous Uillaine surprised me, and caught hold of my damzel, who made great exclamation, fea­ring my harme, whome he bound both hand and foote: threatning if she made any noyse to murther her. Which done, he tooke me by violence, and halling and pulling me most rudely and discourteously, would haue conueyed me I know not whither, vntill this valiant Knight by good fortune, hearing my complaints, redeemed me from his tyrannie. The King hearing her speeches, commanded the knight to discouer himsefe, but he being exceedingly ashamed, and loath to be knowne, refused the same: but at last, by some of the Bohemian Knighs was vnarmed, when presently Violetta knew him, wherewith she gaue an exceeding start, as if she had beene affrighted at his sight. Parismus and Pollipus likewise knewe him, certifying the King, that it was Archas, that had before offered the like villanie to Violletta, which the King well re­membred.

Then he said: Cruell tyrant, what excuse canst thou inuent to shelter this villanie: what canst thou alleage in thy defence, but that thou oughtest to suffer the most reproachful death that can be inuented; but this censure will I giue of thee, not to fauour thee, but to deale iustlie with that Knight, whose Prisoner thou arte, and therefore, as hee by right hath conquered thee, so wee will that hee shall be thy iudge.

The Knight of Fame had all this while diligently viewed Laura­naes bewtie, her countenance, and euery part of her behauiour, that he tooke great delight in viewing her, but hearing the kings speech, he vn­armed his head: whom Parismus soone knew, and most louingly em­braced: likewise Pollipus & Violetta knowing him, saluted him with many courtesies: when presently Parismus declared vnto his father, that it was the famous knight that was called the Lnight of Fame.

The King hearing that it was he, of whome he had heard so many honourable reports, rose from his kingly seat, and embraced him most louingly: and euery one in generall, seemed to be most exceedingly de­lighted with his presence.

Laurana beholding his countenance, felt an exceeding throbbing suddainly possesse her heart: withall, such a violent blushing flasht[?] in [Page] her face, that she wondred whence such sudden motions should proceed, and was constrained to turne aside, least any should perceiue her chan­ging countenance, and withdraue himselfe to a Window. This alte­ration being wrought in her by a naturall instinct, which shee was al­together ignorant of.

The Knight of Fame not vnmindfull to satisfie Violettaes wrong, by some reuenge against Archas, most humbly thankt the King for ho­nouring him so much, by giuing him authority to giue his Doome: but (qd. he) I most humbly intreat your Highnes to pardon mee, and desire your Wisedome, to whome hee hath bene offensiue, to vse him as you please: For it were great presumption for mee in this straunge place to censure of him in your Maiesties presence.

Then the King called Archas, commaunding him to declare what mooued him to commit that outrage to Violetta? but hée assuring him­selfe of no lesse then death, would make no answere: Wherevpon the King commanding him to bee had to Prison, appoynted that the next day he should loose his head: Which was accordingly performed: Who might peraduenture haue bene pardoned, but that his owne conscience accused him more then those whome hee had offended, and so according to his owne follie which had brought him to commit all those Wicked acts, euen so hee was his owne Iudge: For that his guiltie conscience would not suffer him to aske pardon. After this iudgement giuen, eue­ry mans minde was in quiet, hauing sufficiently scanned the circum­stance of Violettaes misfortune.

The Knight of Fame was Royallie entertained, and honourablie feasted by the King of Bohemia, but especially Parismus and Laurana, vsed him with excéeding kindenesse, being for that night driuen to part from him without any conference. But Laurana was so excéedingly troubled with his remēbrance, that she could scarce take any rest at all that Night, for thinking on him, not knowing what should mooue her to such vnwoonted alteration: that in the morning, when Parismus and shée were in some conference about the Knight of Fame; she saide: My Lord, I know not what should mooue me to thinke any such thought, but I am perswaded, that his arriuall will bring vs either some vnex­pected ioy or sudden sorrow: For since I first sawe him, my heart hath neuer bene quiet: neyther can I, though I striue to the contrarie, once put his remembrance out of my minde: Which hath so fully possest my fancie, that I could take no rest this night.

[Page] Myselfe (qd. Parismus) haue felt the selfe-same Passion, not onely nowe, but also at my first méeting with him in the Forrest of Arde: Which maketh mee partly of the selfe same opinion with you, and also desirous to knowe of whence he is. In this and such like communi­cation they continued some time, till Parismus left her, and went to the Knight of Fame, who was already in companie of Pollipus; Whome Parismus most kindely vsed, and afterwardes being at a most Royall Feast, which was prepared onely for his more honourable Welcome: After dinner, being requested by Parismus (who was desirous to know of whence he was) there being the King and Quéene, Parismus, Laura­na, Pollipus, and Violetta, and diuers others, he beganne to declare the whole discourse of his trauells to them in this sort. If I should de­clare my Name and Byrth (qd. hee) I know not how to beginne: For that I my selfe am ignorant thereof: but so much as I can remember, I will hide no part from you. I was brought vp in a countrey in Tar­taria, called the Iland of Rockes, my Parents, for any thing I know, being poore; or whether they were or no, I know not, but when I was of some remembrance, eyther my Mother that brought me vp, or rather my Nurse (for she would not suffer me to call her mother) departed from her habitation, I know not with what intent: but by the way a Lyon flue her, whome I pursued to his Denne: Where being come, I could not returne backe to my Nurse, by which meanes I stayed in that place many yeares: vntill on a time, shee appe [...]ed vnto mee in a Dreame: Warning me to forsake that vnfrequented place, and goe to the Castle of Rockes: Which I presently did, then not knowing what a Castle meant: Where, at the first I was roughly handled, but at last I was kindely vsed by Tyresus, who brought me vp a long time: With whom I departed to Sea: Where by a mighty tempest, the shippe and all that were in the same were cast away, my selfe onely was cast on the Shore in Thrace: Where I was succoured by the good Duke Amasenus, in whose Court I was often like to be destroyed, by some of his Knightes that enuyed [...]ée: From whence I departed to the Kings Court, hea­ring of a generall Triumph that was held: the Kings Daughter being appointed the Conquerours reward: Whome I Wanne, and was de­termined to haue marryed: from which I was warned of by a Uision: Which willed me to surrender vp my Title in Phylena, to Remulus, to whome she was before betrothed: Which I did, and also that I would [Page] trauell in search of my Parents. Which the Uision tolde mée were of Kingly race: And withall, gaue me another commaund, that I should loue no Lady, vntill I had found out that Lady that was showne mee in the Uision: this did greatly trouble me, when presently came newes of Tyrides death, sonne to Duke Amasenus, who was slaine by Bran­damor in rescue of Venola, whom he had the custodie of: Upon which occasion I trauelled first to Lybia, and from thence to the Forrest of Arde, thinking Venola had bene the same Lady appeared to mee in the Uision. Where I met with your Highnesse, and with you departed to the Court of the King of Lybia, after Venola was redéemed, as your selfe rmember, who was not the Lady I went in searche of. After­wards when I had thought to haue departed with you towardes this Countrey, Venola by subtiltie, causing mée to take a séepie Potion, frustrated my desire, which she did to stay me with her, vpon a pretence of great Loue as she bare me, which one afterwards made me acquain­ted withall: Which when I heard, being enioyned to place my affecti­ons on another, fearing some mischaunce might arise by her Loue, and finding with out what deuice they had frustrated me of your company, I departed without knowledge of any from thence. And at last after long Trauell, arriued in Natolia; Where lying downe to rest my selfe being wearie, it happened the Lady Angelica (the most fairest Lady li­uing, to passe by:) Whom after I had séene, I perfectly knewe to be the Ladie that appeared to me in the Uision, hauing after such good successe, that I was entertained by Maximus the King, at the Golden Tower, and there grewe into great acquaintance with Marcellus. I had not long remained there, but the King of Lybia (as I suppose, perswaded thereto by Venolaes meanes) Wrote a Letter vnto Maximus, that hee would for his sake either send mée to him, or else be reuenged on mée by my death: alleadging that I had dishonoured his Daughter: Which accusation was most false and vntrue. Heereupon the King without hearing what I could say in mine owne defence, immediately cast mee into a denne of fierce Lyons, who refused to hurt mée: Where I remai­ned many dayes, hauing no other Foode but such as was cast to them: from whence afterwards I escaped by the Kéepers meanes; Whom I compelled to send for Marcellus, who ridde me out of the Tower, and sent me to an Ancient friende of his named Iabine, Priest of S. Au­stines Chappell, promising to come to mée the next day, but was disap­poynted thereof by such meanes as is not yet come to my knowledge. [Page] Upon a day I went abroad from the Chappell, and by misfortune was espyed by some of the Kings Knights; Who certified him, (as I think) that I was aliue; Wher vpon he againe most vniustly sought my life, and sent out thousands in my search: from whose handes I escaped, in­tending to finde out my Parents, and so trauelled hitherwards. This (quoth he) is the briefe and true rehearsall of my trauells and bringing vppe, so farre as I knowe: hauing nothing whereby to bee otherwise knowne, but a Iewell which my Nurse gaue me great charge to kéepe; Whose minde I haue fulfilled. With that, he pulld out of his bosome the Iewell, which he continually wore about his neck: Which Laura­na hauing diligently viewed, perfectly knew to be the same she had lefte with Parismenos, in the Iland of Rocks: Whom she assuredly (both by that and many other probabilities) knew to be her sonne, that suddenly before them all, she caught him in her armes, and cryed; Oh my sonne Parismenos, thou art my Sonne: many times kissing and embracing him. Her strange behauiour draue them all into admiration. When suddenly the place where they were, beganne to waxe darke, that they could scarce sée one another, and they heard a voyce, which they knewe not from whence; Which said, Parismus welcome thy sonne Parisme­nos, long time absent from thée: thou néedest not doubt of it, for none is so like thée in Heroicall qualities; Which saide, the darknesse pre­sently vanished.

By this they all assuredly knew that the Knight of Fame was sonne to Parismus and Laurana; Who likewise assured himselfe that hee had found his Parents▪ that presently he knéeled downe: Whom Parismus, the King, the Quéene, and Laurana, most louingly all at once incom­passed with theyr kinde embracings, reioycing most exceedingly for ioy that he was found, being vnable by Words, Welcoms, Embracings, or otherwise, to expresse their gladnesse. Parismus reioycing that hee had so valiant and vertuous a Sonne, the King and Quéene glad that in theyr olde Age they sawe so vertuous an imposprung foorth of theyr issue to succéede in the Kingdome. And Laurana with teares of ioy ex­pressing her content, in that she had found her sonne whom she thought had bin destroyed long ago: that no hart is able to expresse the ioy that possest their harts. Pollipus and Violetta, they likewise embraced him, being as glad as any of the rest, of his safetie. This newes was soone spred throgh the whole Court, & from thence, flying fame soone brought the knowledge thereof to the Citizens, who of their owne accord, rung [Page] theyr Bells, made bon-fires, and Triumphs, through the whole Citie: Where on all sides, was such excéeding reioycings, as is impossible to be exprest.

Many dayes afterwards the Knight of Fame, who now shall assume his right and proper Name Parismenos, continued in the Bohemian Court, honourablie entertayned, and highly estéemed of the Bohemian States: Who grue into an excéeding loue towards him, and was kind­ly beloued of the King and Quéene, but especially of his Parents, who thought themselues moste happie and blessed, to haue such a Sonne: Whose fame was spredde through most places of all the Worlde, and that euery mans eares were filled with the report of his most honou­rable déedes.

Now that Parismenos had thus happily attained the knowledge of his Parents, the want whereof had long time filled his minde w^t care, no other thought but of Angelicas Loue could take place in his heart, which (though his cause of ioy otherwise was sufficient) filled his sences with sadnesse, and quite extinguisht those delights, that they séemed to trouble his minde, rather tedious then cōfortable: adding no ease to his cares, which were augmented to an excéeding height, by reason of Max­imus cruelty, which he saw was so much aggrauated against him, that he knew it a thing impossible for him to attaine the least fauour at his hand: Who likewise kept Angelica Guarded so strongly, and so nar­rowly pryed into all her actions, that it was impossible any way, eyther to come to her spéech, or send to her: that with diuersitie of the cogita­tions, his hart was tormented, his countenance darkned, and hée spent his time most commonly in sadnesse: beeing séeldome drawne to any myrth: Which was generally noted of all men, but especiallie of Lau­rana, who could neuer be quiet but onely in his company.

And one a day missing him, shée rested not vntill she had found him out, being gotten into the most solitariest place in the Garden, leaning himselfe vpon his Elbow: Who espying her, raised himselfe from the ground, blushing at her presence; to whome she said.

Why how now Parismenos, What sadnesse is that which posses­seth your minde, that maketh you so e [...]range your selfe from company, to delight in solitarinesse? is there none so highly in your fauour, that they may know the truth thereof? or is your cause of care such as none can remedie? or not counsell you for your ease? I am sure there are many would not refuse to vse their endeuors to pleasure you, especially [Page] myselfe would both willingly doo my best to comfort you, and knowe the cause if it be not too secret.

Parismenos with humble reuerence made her this answer: I beséeth you doo not thinke me so vndutifull, nor my cause of care so secret, that I would conceale the same from you: but were it of much more impor­tance, I would willingly reueale it to satisfie your minde: which I haue omitted, as vnwilling to trouble you therwith, and for no other respect.

Then I pray (qd. she) let me know, is it not Loue? Yes most déere Mother (qd. he) it is Loue, and to that beautifull Ladie Angelica, who beareth me the like affection: but so farre am I from enioying her loue, as that it attainteth my heart with care to thinke thereof, which is the cause of my sadnes: which will increase, rather then diminish, if I doe not shortly trauell thither, being now assured of all other doubtes, and hauing finished my trauell in search to finde you out. Therfore I most humbly beseech you to procure my Lord and Fathers cōsent to my spée­dy departure: For without the fruition of her heauenly sight, my life wilbe but wearisome. Laurana hearing his spéeches, perceiued indéede, that his affection was great, and therefore not to be remooued, and well knowing by her owne former experience, that Loue was incurable, thee was the more ready to pitie his passions, that shee promised to further him in what the could, being now assured of the cause of his sadnesse.

CHAP. XXII.

WIthin few dayes after, Parismenos returned backe againe towards Natolia, but with much sorrow in (the Bohemian Court for his departure) spending much time in trauell, vntill hée arriued at S. Au­stins Chappell, hauing gotten him other Armour because he would not be knowne: and knocking at the Chappell doore, presently olde Iabine came out, to whome he discouered himselfe: Who knowing him, reioyced excée­dingly at his Presence and safetie, desiring him to come in, for that hee had Newes of importance to tell him. [Page] Parismenos comming to him for no other intent, but to heare Newes from Angelica, willingly went in with him. And Iabine began as followeth. Most noble Knight, I will declare vnto you all that I haue learned of the estate of Marcellus, so neere as I can. After that you were departed from hence, the Natolians hauing continued their dili­gent search some thrée dayes, and in the end returned to the Court, fru­strated of their desire: Wherby Maximus gaue no credit to that report, but soone forgot the same, remaining in great quiet.

Marcellus by this time had recouered his health, letting passe no time, came hither, thinking to haue found you héere, but yet hearing by my report of your Departure, hee séemed to be quite ouer-come with griefe, and declared vnto mée all that had happened to you in the Gol­den Tower, which you had declared vnto me before: and withall, ma­nifested what had happened vnto him and Angelica; and how he was so grieuously Wounded: then Iabine declared the same, euen as Mar­cellus hadde tolde him, in the very same manner as is before declared, when he determined to haue conueyed Angelica to S. Austines Chap­pell, the day his Father was on Hunting. And (quoth hée) Marcellus hauing tolde me this, withall shewed mee with what sorrow Angelica endured your absence.

Parismenos hauing heard his wordes, which yéelded him full assu­rance of Marcellus friendship, and Angelicas constant Loue, was there­with excéedingly comforted, rehearsing to him, how fortunately he had found his Parents.

Iabin then began to vse him with more reuerence, and more seruent­ly to affect his company and good, that at Parismenos request, hee went towards the Golden-Tower, to sée if hee could by any meanes speake with Marcellus, which hee willingly at his Request did, and brought newes backe, that Maximus was departed with the Quéene, Marcel­lus and Angelica towards the Citie of Ephesus; which hee learned of such as were Gardiants at the Golden-Tower.

Parismenos hearing that, immediately departed thitherwardes, and entring the Citie, rode presently vnto the Court, where hee met a Knight, Whome hee desired of courtesie to giue notice vnto Marcel­lus, that there was a Knight who would speak with him: Which at his request, he presently went and performed: and finding Marcellus in the Kings great Hall, he sold him there was a strange knight at the Court [Page] Gate that was destrous to speake with him.

Marcellus maruelling who it should be, immediately went out vn­to him, being a Knight of excéeding vertue, that he would not refuse a­ny courtesie, and though hée were Sonne vnto a mightie King, yet hée disdained not to fulfill his request, though hée neither knewe him, nor the cause of his comming.

Parismenos beholding him, immediately alighted from his Stéed, and with a kinde behauiour saide; Most noble and courteous Prince, I desire to haue some few words in priuate conference with you, from the Knight of Fame. Marcellus hearing his Name, the Knight of Fame, desired him to say on: For there were none then present, but such as hee trusted.

My Lord (qd. Parismenos,) because I know not whither I may dis­couer my selfe or no with safety, I am the Knight of Fame, and now al­tered in name, but not in good-will to you. Marcellus hearing his words, had much adoo to refraine from embracing him: but yet for that he would not haue any note the same, he abstained: but said; Most no­ble Knight, nothing could hau [...] brought that ioy to my heart, your pre­sence doth, béeing a long time seuered from you by Fortunes vncōstant mutabilitie, who altereth the estate of things, according to her variable disposition: trusting you haue not misdoubted of my good will, though I came not to S. Austines Chappell according to my promise: Which I was about to performe, but that my intent was crost. But séeing you are thus happily returned, and haue as I hope, attained the knowledge of your Parents, in whose search olde Iabine tolde me you were depar­ted, I desire you repose that assured confidence in my trustinesse, that I will labor to procure your content euery way, to my vttermost power: your safety and returne, will bring no little ioy to my Sister Angelica, which is impossible to giue her knowledge of: for my Father hath now Guarded her more strictly then euer before: neither is shée heere in this Court as the common report goeth, but still remaineth in the Golden Tower, which I will declare to you hereafter. In the meane time, be­cause you shall not be descride, I will send my Esquyre with you vnto an ancient Ladies house of good estimation, where you shall be kindely entertained for my sake, whither I will repaire vnto you: Where you shall, if so please you stay, vntill I can worke some means how to bring you, that you may speake with my Sister Angelica.

[Page] Parismenos hearing his courteous speeches, yeelded him most hear­tie thanks: and so for that Marcellus was fearfull of his Fathers sus­pition, without any more speeches, hee sent Parismenos with the Squyre vnto the Ladies house, whose name was Madame Panora: who taking Parismenos by the hand, conducted him in, and vsed him most kindely.

After dinner was past, Marcellus came thither to him, thanking Panora for entertaining his friend: then hée most louingly embraced Parismenos (who by reason of his long trauell, and excéeding cares, was so much altered, that had Marcellus met him in the stréetes, with­out anie former knowledge that it was hée, hée would hardlie haue knowne him) who with the like behauiour gréeted him againe: de­claring to him his whole trauelles in search of his Parents. Marcel­lns hearing that hée was Sonne vnto the most noble Princes Pa­rismus & Laurana, heyres of the two famous Kingdomes of Thessa­lie and Bohemia, said. Most noble Knight, how miserable should Na­tolia haue bene estéemed, if it had béene the destruction of so honoura­ble blood, and what cruelty might haue bene imputed to my Father, to haue giuen you the sentence of your death? & how vnfortunate had our blood bene, in missing to be affianced to so honourable and Kingly hou­ses? but notwithstanding all this, my Father too much ouerburdened with conceit, regardeth no such honour, but rather dishonoureth his house and stocke with his fearefull suspe [...], who since your departure from the Mayden Tower, grewe into such furious conceit of Ange­lica, that euery day hée was in a manner her kéeper, and in the night he caused her to lodge in his owne chamber, the doores whereof hée would locke with his owne hands, and kéepe the keyes, which was procured by the vaine surmise of a dreame, wherein hée drempt that Angelica should be stolen from him: this miserable life continued not many daies (which well I may terme most miserable) being intangled with so ma­ny cares as I knowe possest his heart, till at the last hee wrought this deuise, thinking vnder that to ease his cares, and preuent all those mis­chiefes which hée feared: hée gaue out spéeches many dayes before hee came to the Golden Tower, that hee would depart to this Cittie: and withall, it was reported in euery mans voyce, that Angelica should no more be kept in that Tower, but that shee should likewise depart with him, which all the Nobles and Lords of the land were glad of the [Page] knights and Ladies her attendants reioyced thereat, and the Fame thereof was soone spred through the hearing of bordering Nations, and from thence to farre countries, my self amongst the rest was excéeding­ly glad, especially Angelica most of all reioyced thereat. Now my Fa­ther séeing the ioye that was made thereat, was the more troubled in his sences, that comming to a damzell of meane birth, yet of much beautie, who in countenance much resembled Angelica, he wonne her by (many protestations of great preferment, and with many threates of great seueritie, if shee would not condiscend to follow his counsell) to do whatsoeuer he commaunded her: her did hée cause to come into his own chamber, and secretly (without the priuity of any but the Quéene) to attyre her selfe in Angelicas richest ornaments, appointing certaine Damozells to attend her, that knew not Angelica: or at least knew her not from Angelica.

As for Angelica, the very same day, when he ment to depart, hée committed her to the custodie of foure Ennuches: who vowed not to let any come eyther to the sight of her, or spéech of her, w^t out he brought his Fathers letter to that effect, signed with his owne hand and signet, remoouing all her former gardiants, and appoynting newe that knew nothing, but that Angelica was departed with the King, from whose knowledge likewise hée had giuen the Eunuches es peciall charge, to kéepe her being there.

All the Ladies likewise that attended her, came away with him, knowing no other but that Angelica was in his company, leauing no other to attend her, but one Damzel, named Anna, which she obtained of my Father, with many instant intreaties. And hauing effected eue­rie thing according to his fancie, hée departed hitherwards: the Damo­zell so artificially behauing her selfe, that neither my selfe nor any other perceiued but that it was Angelica indéede. And beeing arriued in this place, hée committed this supposed Angelica to such strict custo­die, as before hée vsed, committing her to be kept by those Damozells that indéede thought it had beene Angelica, whome hée bound by ma­nie promises, not to suffer any to come to her spéech. But I longing to haue some conference with my Sister, whose heart I knew was op­pressed with many cares for your absence, sought meanes to come to her spéeche, which I was long without obtaining: but at last by meanes of one of the Damozells, whom with many intreaties I had [Page] wonne, I came to her, and taking her by the hand, I began to vse many spéeches to comfort her: and withall, to enter into such con­ference, as would haue bewrayed all the secrets that euer had passed betwixt me, Angelica and your selfe: but the damozel bearing a ver­tuous minde, and vnwilling (as shee afterwards tolde mee) to betray my secrets to her priuitie (which could not proceede but from a mar­uellous good disposition) suddainely brake off my spéeches, say­ing.

My Lord, I beséech you be aduised to whom you speake, vnlesse you will commit your secrets to one that you woude not otherwise trust, neither will I presume (being vnworthie thereof) to partici­pate your counselles: for I am not Angelica, but your poore hand maide Duleia. At which words I was halfe astonisht, and viewing her in­déed, perfectly knew her: which without shee had betrayed her selfe, I should neuer haue done: withall: my fancie began inwardly to com­mend her courtesie, or rather vertue, that refused (though she condis­rended to my fathers will (to betray me) knowing the whole depth of my secrets: and wondring how mine eyes were blinded, that coulde before descrie her, I requested her to tell me the occasion why she sup­plied Angelicas roome, the truth thereof shee declared vnto mee, in manner as I haue now tolde you: withall, requesting mee vppon her knées, not to reueale that which shee hadde of dutie, good will and affection tolde mee: which I promised I would, and meane faithfully to conceale from all but your selfe. Now there resteth nothing but how to worke meanes that you may come to An­gelica.

Parismenos hearing how stricktly his Lady was guarded, was suddainely stricken with silent sadnesse, to thinke of the im­possibilities that hindred his content, and his minde was so op­prest with care, that hée forgot how to studie for his owne a uaile.

Marcellus séeing him fallen into that heauy dumpe, reuiued him from the same with this comfortable spéeche: My deare friend abandon this habit of care, and reuiue yuor drouping hart with hopeful comfort, for my selfe will worke a meanes how you shall haue the custodie of Angelica, which I will effect very spéedily, if you will stay here but while I can bring the same about. Parismenos being comforted with his courteous promise, gaue him thankes in these spéeches. [Page] Most noble Knight, how may I expresse sufficient thankes to you, for becomming so kind and faithfull a friend to me vnworthy? or which way may I recompence the least of your good deeds, that haue in all a­bundance tasted of your honourable bountie? for which I render you thanks, as all the recompence I am able to make: vowing if euer you neede my helpe in any thing, neuer to desist to hazard my life for your sake. Fnd since you haue of your owne vertuous disposition uoluntari­ly (neither drawne by entreatie nor hope of recompence) promised, mee your assistance. which onely may be the meanes to worke my euerla­sting felicitie, I beseech you to go forwards therein, that I may thereby bee much more indebted, as well for that, as for infinit other your Princely couresies: which though they passe vnrewarded, yet they shall neuer rest vngratified in my dutifull deuotions, which by good right are eternally bound to requite your good will.

Worthie friend (quoth Msrcellus) leaue off to vse such thankes to mee, that request nothing at your handes but loue and friendship, which am vnable to merite any such recompence as you kindly yeelde: but I pray you be merrie yet in my absence, with this kinde olde La­die, whilest I put my purpose in practise, which so soone as I haue brought to perfection, I will returne, and not before: till when I take my leaue, committing you to your owne hearts desire, which I wish. Which words being ended, with many courteous farewels he depar­ted the chamber: and comming to Panora, (who before had bene his Nurse, and loued him most dearely) whome he requested in most ear­nest sort, to vse his friend as kindly as shee would vse himselfe, who promised so to doe: and likewise performed it in euer vsing Parisme­nos so kindely, that hee could not chuse but greatly to extoll and com­mend her courtesie.

Now let my muse returne to speake somewhat of Angelica, who after shee sawe that shee was frustrated of her desire, which was to de­part with the King according as himselfe had giuen out speeches, and not to be any longer inthralled as shee had of long time before bene, and now perceiuing that her father had both deceiued her in that, taken a­way all her damzels, chaunged her guard, and appointed her to bee guarded by such iealous slaues, as would neuer scarce day nor night suffer her to be out of their sight, thought her selfe not onely in as bad case as before, but rather in a thousand times worse, being depriued of many pleasures which she enioyed: but neuer esteemed of them, vntill [Page] now she was restrayned, missing the comfortable presence and swéete conference she was wont to enioy with Marcellus, and especiallie fea­ring neuer to sée the Knight of Fame again, she wholy gaue her mind to sorrowe, spending all her time commonly in teares, and bewailing her sad estate, that had not Anna in some measure comforted her, shee would haue ouerwhelmed her tender heart with those cares, and haue shortned the date of her precious life, thinking euery houre a day, and euery day a yeare, till she were released from that bondage, in which carefull estate she continually remained.

CHAP. XXIII.

AS soone as Maximus was come to the Court, hée presently got himselfe to his chamber: and there be­gan to studie how to compasse that which hée had vndertaken to effect: at last he bethought himselfe, that if hée could deuise any meanes to get his fa­thers Signet, hee would write a Letter vnto the keepers of the Maiden Tower, in the behalfe of Parismenos, that they should admit him as one of the Gardiants, which presently he contriued in this sort.

When Maximus had wrote this letter, and immitated therein so neare as hee could his Fathers hand, which hee knewe they were not greatly acquainted withall, hee wrought such meanes that hee gate Maximus signet and sealed the same: which when he had signed, the next morning he went to Parismenos, and told him what he had done: [Page] who liked thereof very well, and (quoth he) if I may once be admitt [...] amongst them, let me alone with the Eunuches to come to Angelica, neither will I be denied, since I haue this good meanes: that presently he armed himself, for that he would not vse any, not the least which of­tentimes bringeth things well begunne to an vntoward end: and ta­king his leaue of Marcellus and the Lady Panora, with abundance of heartie thankes, he departed with a merry heart towards the maiden Tower, hoping now to enioy the sweete sight of his beloued, which he neuer beheld but twise in all the time he had sought her loue. Marcel­lus he departed backe againe to the court very sadde, for the absence of Parismenos and Angelica, being likewise much gréeued, that Maxi­mus his father should with hold any of his secrets from him, which did both disgrace him to such as were strangers, and specially to those La­dies that were Dulcias attendants, which thogh he knew well inough, yet that tooke away no part of his conceit of vnkindenesse: but most of all he was troubled with griefe to be restrained from Dulcias compa­ny, on whom his thoughts had continually run, euer since he had bin last with her, for her beautie excelled all the Ladies of the court (Ange­lica excepted) & of her vertue he had good conceit, by that which he had found in her good dispositions, when she refused to thrust her selfe into the knowledge of the secrets, but rather commited all that the king had commaunded her to his secrets, which if Maximus should know of, would be as much as her life were worth. These cogitations so much altered his countenance, that wheras before hée was of a plea­sant disposition, he now began to giue-his minde wholely so meancho­ly sadnesse, often shunning the company of those he was wont to de­light in, which Maximus noted, especially the Quéene both maruelled and was grieued thereat, and finding him out when hée was in that heauy vaine, she earnestly demaunded his cause of sadnesse, to whom he made this aunswere. My father, I knowe not vpon what occasion accounteth me I thinke, rather as one that would betray him, then as his sonne, that he refraineth me Angelicas presence, and kéepeth his counsels from me, to intrude my selfe into his counsels, I will not pre­sume: onely my desire is, that I may but be admitted to the fight of my sister Angelica.

Marcellus, (quoth the Quéene) I pray thée be contented for a time, for thou féest thy fathers minde, which will impart his secrets to [Page] none, who if hée should knowe that your sadnesse were for that cause▪ would be the more fearefull to impart them to you, which can no way pleasure you, but rather fill your minde with greater cares, which now is more happy then it would be then: for Angelica so long as shee is in health, what néede you be so carefull for her: then good Marcellus rest your selfe contented, and desire not that which will rather adde more trouble to your head. The Quéene hauing ended these spéeches, depar­ted, and left Marcellus where she found him.

Assone as the Quéene was gone, hée began againe to ponder these things, not knowing why his head shuld be thus troubled: for he knew all that hée desired, and yet his minde was troubled therewith, that at last, with more aduised consideration, hée weighed euery conceit of his thoughts, & found that neyther his Fathers vnkindnesse, Angelicaes absence, nor his feare of disgrace, was that that troubled him, but only a good conceyt of Dulcias kindnesse, which caused him to enter into a viewe of her perfections, which his fancie began so much to co [...]mend her, that hée thought her worthy to be beloued: & withall, thought why he might not loue her, which very thoghts drew to such insight into his owne Fancies, that he perceiued that Loue had already taken possession in his heart: then he began to consider what displeasure it might pro­cure him, if he should set his fancie on one so farre his inferiour, and not rather séeke the loue of some Kings Daughter, that might adde honour to his Title, and not diminish the same: Which thought was no sooner begun, but it ended, being dasht by another conceyt, that Dulcia was as beautifull as any, as vertuous any, as courteous as any: and there­fore as worthy to be beloued as any: that if he should marrie with his equall, shee might rather marrie him for his dignite, and of a haughtie minde to kéepe her owne high dignitie still, then for any true loue: and if shee were his equall, hee should rather be subiect to her Will, then shée any way obedient to him: that Dulcia would bee a louing, kinde, and duetifull wife, that she would honour him, rather then desire to be his equall, and that she would refuse no pe [...]ll, daunger, nor hazarde for his sake: that hauing spent some time in these cogitations, hae resolued to loue Dulcia whatsoeuer ensued thereon: though hee incurred his Parents displeasure, or anie other hazard of his honour whatsoeuer: and with resolution, hee went immediately vnto the place where she [Page] was guarded in stéed of Angelica, and by the Damzells meanes, who, before had done him the like sauour, he came to her chamber, where he found Dulcia all alone very sad, to whom he said. How now Ange­lica, what are you sadde? can I neuer come, but that I must alwayes finde you in this mel ancholy disposition? what, are you sory to be thus pend from a husband?

My Lord (quoth Dulica) though I am otherwise sadde, it doth me good to see you merrie. You are deceiued Dulcia, I am not mer­rie. My Lord (quoth shee) if I should giue credit to your words, they shewe that you are merrie, that call me Angelica, yet knowe the contrarie. Oh Dulcia (quoth he) neither doth wordes nor countenance alwayes bewray the inward thoughts: for this which you take to bee myrth in mee, is but a forced habite, which I haue taken vppon me euen now: but knew you the thoughts of my heart, you would say I were sadde.

My Lord (quoth shee) I beséech you pardon my boldnesse, which I presumed, séeing your pleasant disposition, wherein if I was deceyued, I hope you will not be offended with: for indéed oftentimes the heart meditaes of many things y^e minde cannot vtter. So doth mine Dulcia (quoth hée) for I with thee more good, then I am able to vtter; and the cause that my hart is sadde, is because I am not able to do thée so much good, as my heart doth with and cannot vtter. I most humbly thanke you (quoth Dulcia) acknowledging my selfe farre vnworthie such fa­uour, and vnable to deserue such good, which maketh me thinke you still continue in that forced habit, which maketh you vtter those spée­ches. Indéede well replyed Dulcia (quoth he) but as I suddainly tooke that habit vpon me, it was gone again before I had vttered the words: therefore you may be assured now, that my words procéede from a true heart, and not from a forced habit. My Lord (quoth she againe) where there is such often change of disposition, there can be no constant reso­lution. Yes (quoth hée) that which is of purpose taken to shew myrth, is forced: but the naturall disposition still continueth firme. Indéede in fewe (quoth she) but not in all. Then (quoth hée) thinke me one of those fewe. My Lord (quoth she) I be seech you pardon me if I do not: for it is giuen to all by nature, to be more confidēt then prouident. And I aunswere, I haue receyued more fauour at your hands, in suffering me to be thus familiar with you, then I am worthy, or euer haue de­serued: [Page] Therefore I craue pardon, hoping that you shill beare with my rudenesse.

Dulcia (quoth he) doe not aske pardon when you haue not misdone, but beleeue my Words, without any question only to proceed from the depth of my true hart; Which entendeth and wishe [...]h you no lesse good then I haue v [...]ered: For I haue found such vertue in you, that I am in [...]hralled to that vertue, and desire to bee partaker, and possesse that beautie; which hath made mee your affectionate Friend, and intreate your Loue, then that which I desire nothing more. My Lord (replyed Dulcia) my Loue and dutie is such, that I will not refuse any com­maund you shall impose vpon me.

Dulcia (qd. hee) it is not such Loue, as is commanded by dutie, nor such Friendship as ariseth from feare, but such kinde Loue as procée­deth (betwixt faithfull Friendes) from the yeelding consent of a true heart, and such a loue as hath a further respect then that common duty: for if you knewe with what feruencie I desired your sweete consent to this Loue, you would pittie my torments.

My Lord (replyed shee) I beseech your Honour doe not séeke to cap­tiuate or enthrall me in Loues bands, that am free, and am assured your Fancie cannot like of one farre vnworthy that high fauour you speake of, but suffer me rather to continue in my peacefull estate, that esteeme my selfe tarre from euer enioying such Happinesse, as to bee beloued of my superiour, being already so farre bound vnto you in all humblenes, that you shall not commaund mee any thing that agreeth with Mode­stie, but I will performe the same. Speake you from your heart (q [...]. Marcellus?) I doe my my Lorde (quoth she:) Then (saide he) I com­maund you to Loue me; and if that bee too harsh a Word, I intrease and desire you, yéeld me loue, for that true loue I beare you, being such as is grounded vpon vertue, and without spot or blemish of hishonours staine, entending nothing that may disagree with your Modesty, but so make you my equall, my companion, and my dearely espoused Wife: Therefore doe but yeeld to loue me, and thou shalt thereby expell many cares from my heart: Which otherwise will increase, to my euerla­sting torment.

Oh my Lord (quoth Dulcia) I beséech you account mee one that will indeuour in all dutie to deserue that honour you entend me, which I see so many impossibilities, to hinder, that it quite discourageth me from the least hope of that felicitie. So you will loue me, I care not for [Page] impossibilities, neyther shall anie miserie alter my constant resolution. With that he embraced her in his arms, who gaue a silent consent, in­termingled with teares, procéeding from her tender heart: With whom Marcellus stayed some time, spending the time in many friendly confe­rences, so that Dulcia was constrained by his intreaties, and her owne yéelding heart, to giue her consent: both their intents being grounded vpon no other purpose, but that which is vertuous and chaste.

Parismenos being departed from Marcellus, soone arriued at the Maiden Tower, where hee alighted: and comming to the Gardiants that kept the Gate, hee saluted them with a courteous behauiour, and tolde them, that hee was sent by Maximus theyr King, to be one of the Gardiants: Whome at the first they denied him, then he deliuered his Letter, which they hauing read, accepted him for one of theyr fellowes, without any doubt or mistrust.

When hee had obtained his desire in this, with such a prosperous beginning, hee began to comfort himselfe with hope of further good For­tune, continuing all that Night amongst the rest of the Gardiants, and not once offering any behauiour which might bréed suspition: but beha­ued himselfe most carefully, both in all his words and déedes, as he had good reason: For that they were very circumspect, and almost by rea­son of the strict charge the King had giuen them, ready to suspect each o­ther. All the next day continued hée in that sort, without any méeting of the Eunuches: But on the third day he met two of them together in a place most conuenient, and faluted them most kindely: Who maruel­ling what he should be, for that he was a stranger, began presently to be iealous of him: but he perceiuing the same, told them, that he had a se­cret message vnto them from the King: and withall, a letter vnder his hand and signet to the Gardiants, which he shewed them. But to you (qd. h [...]) the King hath sent me w^t this message, that you shall admit mée at all times to Angelicaes presence: whome you haue the custodie of, though vnknowne to any but your selues: which he told me likewise, he gaue you a speciall charge to conceale from the rest of the Gardiants, and hath vppon the trust hee hath reposed in mee, giuen me authoritie with you to haue her custody. The Eunuches hauing heard his message, and with all, the Kings priuy seale to the Letter, written in his behalfe, could not chuse but giue credence to the same, supposing that none was priuie to Angelicaes being there but the King, that they made no doubt but that he was sent by him: but would not trust him, vntill they had [Page] consulted with the rest of their fellowes, vnto whome they declared the truth of all hee had tolde them, who in generall they admitted him to their societie.

Parismenos thought himselfe most happie to haue attayned this se­licitie: Where likewise hee behaued himselfe most carefully, selling them that hee had a message of secrecie to declare to her from the King, which they made no doubt of, nor neuer denyed. When he spied his fit­test opportunitie, which was, when Angelica was walking alone in a priuate Garden, being all the libertie she hadde, and the Eunuches were gone to disporte themselues, and had put him alone in trust with the Key that conducted to her Chamber, he vnlocked the doore, and shut­ting the same againe, he came to her Chamber; Where hee durst not be so bolde as enter before he had knockt. Anna being alone in the Cham­ber, hearing one knocke, came to the doore: and espying Parismenos in Armor with his sword gyrt to his side (which he neuer left off, being in euery point armed but his head) maruelled what he shuld be: to whom he saide. Faire Damzell, maruell not to sée mee in Armor, which shall neuer offend you, but still be imployed in your defence. I haue knockt, presuming no further without licence: the cause of my comming is, to deliuer a message vnto the Ladie Angelica from Marcellus. All this time Anna had diligently behelde him; perswading her selfe, shee had séene him before, that she made him this answere. Syr Knight, if you come from Marcellus, you shall be welcome to my Ladie, therefore I pray you come in, and I will conduct you to the place where shée is.

Then she brought him downe a paire of staires, into a Garden where Angelica was: Who sate at the further ende thereof, in a most heauie and discomfortabie sort, séeming to be quite giuen ouer to sorrowe, lea­ning herelbowe vpon her Kn [...], and her head vpon her hand, with her backe towards them, and hearing them comming behinde her, with a sudden start raised her selfe from her seate: Wherewith her heart pan­ted within her: and Parismenos humbling himselfe vpon his knée: said, Muse not diuine Ladie to beholde the mappe of sorrowe, created to en­dure euerlasting miserie: the most worthy Knight Marcellus hath sent me hither: Whose fauour hath caused me to be thus bolde, who hartily saluteth himself to you by me. Angelica all this while diligently behold him, ofte changing her countenance, being procured by the diuersitie of thoughts: for she supposed it shuld be the Kn: of Fame, for that he came from Marcellus: but he was so mightily altered, that she was in doubt thereof.

[Page] Assoone as hee had ended those fewe Words, she saide: Are not you the Knight of Fame? I am the same most deere Ladie (quoth he:) With that her hart leapt for ioy, and she tooke him most louingly by the hand, desiring him to arise, saying: I am glad to see you againe; Which I fea­red I should neuer haue done. Then presently procured by ioy for his sight, and griefe to thinke of her owne bondage, a flood of Cristall teares issued from her eyes: Which attainted her heart with extreame griefe, that he stood like a man sencelesse, and confounded in his thoughts: and such Passions opprest his heart, that she was scarce able to vpholde her selfe from falling, which caused the Water with violence drawne from his manly heart, stand in his eyes: Which neuer before by any accident were absent: and seeing her in that wofull estate, could not chuse but folde his arme with a fearfull touch about her slender-Waste, to vphold her, whilest Anna ran for some comfortable-Water to reuiue her with­all: but comming to her selfe againe, shee leant her head in his bosome: Who put his hand betwixt her precious Temples, to keepe it from tou­ching his colde and hard Armour, vttering these speeches.

Oh how vnfortunate am I, that by my disquiet haue procured you this disquiet; but before he could say more, she answered: But were you hence, my griefe would be far greater. It is not your presence hath done this, but my owne hearts cares, that are still allotted to be my greatest comfort: but thinke your selfe most Welcome to me, and your presence more delightfull then any others whatsoeuer. Most vertuous Ladie (qd. hee) your kindnesse is so farre beyond my desert, that I knowe my selfe altogether vnable to render sufficient thankes, for which I haue beene often made acquainted withall, by the Worthie Marcellus, and now finde kindely ratified by your owne heauenly voyce: Which yeeld me that vndeserued fauour as shall binde me in all dutifull bonds of seruice to command. If (qd. she) I should do otherwise then loue you, you might account me discourteous: Or if I should denie my Words past to Marcellus, (who loueth you so well that hee will (I know) con­ceale nothing from you,) you might account me vntrue: but seeing you haue well deserued the one, and are by his meanes made priuie to the other, I cannot now stand vpon new termes of denyall, but yeelde my selfe in all honourable sort into your [...]stodie. Most swéete Ladie (qd. he) if I prooue not thankfull, Heauens graunt my good déeds may be re­warded with ill: If I remaine not euerlastingly true, let comfort hate my soule, the earth denounce my body, & terror afflict my conscience: if [Page] euer I refuse perill, hazard of life, torment, or other miserie for your sake, let al peril, hazard of life, torment and miserie, be my chiefest com­fort: if my loue continue not constant, my faith firme, and my thoughts cleare of disloyaltie, let those I loue hate me: let all men abborre me: and euery creature séeke my destruction. Gentle Knight (quoth she) your words I do constantly beleeue: therefore be you assured likewise: of my resolution, which is to rest my selfe wholely vpon your vertues, with that they parted so pure a maiden kisse betwixt them, being the first that euer she had giuen or receiued, that both their heartes sée­med to tenterchange the others place, and to part from their louing brest with a soft breathing sigh, more swéete then if all the vnited per­fumes in the world had bene met betwixt their rostate lips. By this time Anna was returned, hauing spent her labour in vaine, for that Angelica was safe. Then Parismenos taking her by the arme, led her vp into her lodging, which when he had done, Angelica desired him to declare by what meanes he had attained that liberty to come to her. And he said, I am amongst the rest, one of your kéepers: for behold I haue the key that alone cōducteth to your lodging: the Eunuches haue put me in trust withall, who are now gone about some recreation they haue in hand: then he declared vnto her the truth of all, and of Maxi­mus policie, and how he had caused Dulcia to supply her roome at the Court, who was of euery degree taken for her selfe. Angelica hea­ring his report, forced a smile from her cheareful hart, which she had not done many a day before. Desiring him likewise to declare his trauells after he had escaped out of the Lyons den, which hée did in euery re­spect.

When Angelicia heard that hée was sonne to Parismus and Lau­rana, whose fame resounded in euery place, and that hée was sprung of two such kingly houses, herr heat was filled with excéeding ioy: which shée exprest by giuing him many kind welcomes: vttering these spéeches. My deare knight (quoth she) I reioice to heare that you haue found your princely parents. But yet I would you had kept the same from my knowledge as yet, because that you might haue had tryall of my good will in your vnknowne estate, in which you were as deare to me, as you shall be if you were the highest Monarch in the world. But how happie should I be, if I might in quiet enioy your presence, which I know not how you will effect. Deare Lady (quoth he) there resteth nothing but your consent: which if you douchsafe to grant, then I do [Page] not doubt but soone to bring you out of this place without any hazard of your person. Oh swéete Parismenos, the thraldome I haue long en­dured, maketh me desirous of libertie, that am almost tired with con­ceit of my fathers credulitie, too much addicted to vaine report: especi­ally replying vpon your vertuous disposition, and desirous to be ruled and gouerned by your wisedome, whome I haue chosen for my onely delight: I am most willing to do whatsoeuer you shall counsell me too, resting in assured confidence, that you will no way impayre my honor, which I respect more then my life: but rest at my disposition in séeking any other assurance then my promise. I beséech you (quoth he) let no e­uil conceit of mée take place in your hart, but be assured, that so long as I breath, I will not erre from your commaund, in the least vndutifull respect, but rest so fully and wholely obedient to your behestes, that soo­ner then I will do or thinke a thought that shall disagrée to your desire, this breath shall leaue my brest, and my vital spirits giue vp their latest gaspe. After these spéeches ended, and Angelicas minde fully satisfied, they spent some time in familiar conference, intermingled with many [...]nde behauiours, the further confirmation of both their loues: till at last, Parismenos enforced, in regard of their safeties, departed to his charge, whither he was come before they were returned: and at their returne finding him there, they made no doubt of him, but tooke the charge vpon them againe, entring into Angelicas chamber, to prouide her such things as are necessarie, who because they should not finde any alteration, put on her former manner of sadnesse, which before pro­ [...]éeded from the depth of care, but now the assumed to auoid suspition. Parismenos he went down amongst the rest of the knights that kept the Castle, kéeping company sometimes with them, and sometimes with the Eunuches, that neither of them knew of his familiaritie with the other, but both accepted him as one of their company, that he had the guarding of the entrance into the Castle, and also the secret keeping of Angelica, with the Eunuches: neither of them both suspecting his intent.

Thus continued he amongst them some three daies, in which time be came often to Angelica, and had conference with her: at last his turne came, that he must both watch with one of the Eunuches, and also at the Castle entrance, where likewise, neuer but two kept the watch, which fell out according to Parismenos desire: whose hart was much troubled to effect this businesse, deuising how he should bee rid [Page] of his two fellowes, the Eunuch, and the other, that kept the entrance, being vnwilling to be estéemed a murderer, his handes being yet neuer guiltie of bloud: At last his desire to get Angelica from thence ouer­came that care, and hee resolued rather to be their Exectuioner, then be disappointed of his intent: When the time that hée should take his place to Watch was come, and hée and the Eunuch alone, the rest be­ing gone to theyr Lodging. Parismenos being in talke with the Eu­nuch, suddenly mufflled him in his Gowne, so close, that none could heare him crie, and thrust his Sword quite through him, which he did with such expedition, that his fellowes neuer heard theyr noyse: And taking the Key from him, tooke him vnder his arme, and floong him in­to a darke corner of the Tower. When hée had done this, he hasted to his other place of charge: Where when he came, he found his fellow Watchman staying for him, but fast asléepe, with the Keyes of the Ca­stle gate lying by him: Whom Parismenos caught in his armes, and before he could recouer his sences, threw him from the Battlements in­to the Lake, where he was drowned: Which done, hee went backe to Angelicaes Chamber, and opening the doore, entred in, and found An­gelica in her bad fast a sléepe; Whom was in minde at the first to haue awaked her, but beholding her in so swéete a slumber, the awfull regard he bare to her would not suffer him to be so bolde, but still hee stoode by her a good space, being desirous to awake her, yet fearfull to disturbe her quiet rest: at last Anna awaked, who continually was her Bedfellow. Who séeing Parismenos in the Chamber, at that vnseasonable houre, styrring her selfe to speake to him, awaked Angelica, who likewise ca­sting her eye suddenly on him, was somewhat agast at his being there, but he kneeling downe at her Beds-side, saide: Pardon me I beséeche you this boldnesse: now is the time that you may depart, and without any let or molestation, For that my selfe haue alone the keeping of the entrance into this Tower.

Angelica hearing his speeches, tolde him shee would presently be readie: Then Anna suddenly started out of the Bedde, and apparelled her selfe. And Parismenos arising withdrew himselfe. Angelica like­wise made such expedition, that shee was readie before Parismenos wisht, hauing attyred her selfe with most exceeding rich Ornaments. Then she came foorth vnto him, and sayde: Now my dearest Friend, Let vs goe when you please: Then hee tooke her by the one Aime, and [Page] Anna by the other, saying: Be of good comfort, and feare not, for I dare assure you to passe with quiet. After they were out of the thamber he lockt the doore againe, and tooke the key with him: and from thence, let her downe to the Tower gate: and being without, fast lockt the same againe after them. And being quite without the compasse of the Tower, Angelicaes heart séemed to leape within her for ioy, deman­ding in most kinde sort, whither hée would conuey her, for (quoth she) if I should be taken againe, and come to Maximus presence, my tor­ment and griefe would be more then I am able to expresse. I haue (quoth he, afriende not farre hence, in whose trust I dare repose any secrete, whither I will conduct you with safetie: therefore I beseeche you be of good comfort. Manie a wearie steppe Angelica had, before shée came to her iourneys ende: which at last they attained. When they were come to Saint Austines Chappell, Parismenos neuer left knocking vntill hée had awaked Iabin, who maruelling to heare one knocke at that time of the night, so vnlooked for, and comming to the doore, demaunded before hée would open the same, who was there. Pa­rismenos made answere, good friendes Iabin open the doore, here is none but friendes. With that Iabin knowing his voyce, opened the doore and let them in, with all haste lighting a Taper, then hée came to Parismenos and embraced him, yet not knowing Angelica, but suppo­sing it was she, admyring her excéeding bewty, and with humble reue­rence he desired her to accept of his poore Cell: where Angelica being wearie, seated her selfe vppon his bedde, being most glad that she was escaped out of the mayden Tower, where they spent some time in conference about their escape: when Parismenos at her request, de­clared the manner how he rid himselfe from those that were appointed to watche with them. Whose wisedome Angelica greatly admyred. After manie of these swéete remembrances past betwéene them, An­gelica and Anna fell both fast a sléepe, being wearie of theyr trauell: which Parismenos and Iabin séeing, they departed into the Chappell to conferre about theyr securitie: where we will leaue them, to speake of the gardiants.

CHAP. XXIIII.

[Page] IN the morning the Eunuches according to their woonted manner, came to the place where they thought to haue found their fellowes, but missing them both, first maruelling thereat, & afterwards conceyuing the worst, béing apt to suspition, knockt at Angelicas chamber doore, but none made answere: which draue them into an excéeding per­plexity of feare, then they began altogether to stu­die what this might meane, & going downe they espyed their fellow lie dead before them, whom Parismenos had cast there, y^t Angelica might not sée him: which ghastly sight affrighted them with deadly feare: that with an excéeding outcrie they ran downe to the Knights that kept the entrance: who maruelling at their sorrow, enquired the cause thereof: they declared how they found one of their fellowes flaine and the knight that Maxamus had lately sent was missing. Hée (quoth the knights) hath the kéeping of the entrance: but notwithstanding, some of them fearing the worst, ranne thither, where they found neither him, nor the other knight that was appointed to watch with him, nor the keyes of the Tower gate. With which newes, they returned backe to the rest of the fellowes, who by this time came altogether. At which newes, one of them said: I sée no such cause of sorrow. With that one of the Eunuches said: you know not what wée haue lost, wée are all vndone: we shall be hanged, if Maximus heare heereof, we haue lost Angelica, with that the knights burst into a laughter. Oh (quoth the Eunuch) laugh not at that which will bring vs all to sorrowe, we haue lost An­gelica, whose custodie we hadde, though vnknowne to you: which the King commaunded vs to kéep from your knowledge, for that he hadde giuen out report, that she was departed with him, whome I feare me, the strange knight that lately arriued héere, hath carryed away from vs all. The knight hearing his wordes, were excéedingly amazed thereat, which they were assured was true, by the rest of there fel­lowes. Then they went altogether vppe to Angelicas Chamber, and breaking open the doores, they found her not, who well perceiued that she was gone away. Then beganne the Eunuches to roare and crie out like mad men, and the Knights ran vp & downe like men transfor­med into amazement: at last, with much a doo, they opened the gate, finding the draw-bridge letten downe: and some of them hauing horse [Page] within the Tower, posted euery way about the countrie, making dili­gent searche and enquire after them, and manie of them met with olde Iabin, who answered them that he saw none such, whome they all cre­dited, for that hée was a man of religion, which were of most high esti­mation with euery one of those Countreys that they estéemed euery word that past their lips, as true Oracles: by which meanes Parisme­nos and Angelica were as safe in his custodie as could be deuised. Ia­bin séeing such a number of knights abroad, returned with that newes to his Cell, which draue Angelica into some feare and disquiet, but Ia­bin by his comfortable assurances, expelled the same from her heart, by telling her, that if all the world were in searche of them, yet they would neuer suspect that place. The Eunuches soone got out of the Tower, and fled for feare of Maximus furie, euery man which way hée thought best for his owne safetie. One of the knights posted with all spéed to the Court, and comming into Maximus presence, declared the whole cir­cumstance of this tragicall euent. Which when Maximus heard, hée tore his haire, stamped on the earth, raged and railed most excéedingly, calling all the Nobles and Knights of his Court togither, commaun­ding them in all haste to arme themselues prefently, and be in readines to goe with him, and to stay for him in the Court gate: then might you sée Noblemen making hast, some one way, some another way, some calling for the rest of their Armour, hauing the one halfe on, and the o­ther out of readinesse: some in Harnesse, ready mounted, buckling on their Helmets, others at euery poynt armed, calling for their Stéedes, some ready mounting, halfe armed, halse vnarmed: Knights running this way, seruants that way, all styring and making vnwoonted haste, and euery one in a hurly burly. By this time came Maximus readie mounted, gyrding his spurres into his Stéeds side for haste: who was ready to make spéede without spurring, commaunding his Knights to follow him: who hastened after him, not knowing why they made such spéede, the Ladies woondred at this newes, some for feare of their hus­bands harme, for they thought some enemis were approached which might endanger their persons, admyring this strange accident: some bemoning the absence of their louers: all in a woonderfull extasie, the Queene shee sat wéeping for the losse of her Daughter, which the King had tolde her of.

Marcellus hée onely reioyced, for y^t he supposed Parismenos had caried from thence Angel. Maximus w^t all hast arriued at the maiden Tower, [Page] where he heard the truth of all, and saw the Eunuch that was staine, and withall was certified in what manner the straunge knight came, and how that he brought with him a Letter signed with his priuie sig­net. When Maximus heard this, he grew presently into a perswasion that it was the vnknowne knight had done that exployt, and carried away Angelica, then he called for the letter which one of those knights (by ill fortune more carefull then the rest, had demaunded of Parisme­nos, after he had shewen the same to the Eunuches as aforesaid) deli­uered vnto him, which when Maximus sawe, hée presently know [...] that it was Marcellus hand, which caused his eyes to swell with tage, that for that the night was nowe come, he rested in the Tower, com­maunding and desiring his Nobles and Knights to poste throughout all the Countrie to finde Angelica, commaunding two of the chiefest of his Noblemen earely the next morning to post to the Court and ap­prehend Marcellus as a Traytor, for conspiring with a straunger to betray his life. Thus on a suddaine was all the Countrey spread ouer with knights, who left no place of likelihood to harbour them. Onely Iabins Cell they suspected not, which was so neare the maiden To­wer, and withall a place of holinesse and religion dedicated to Saint Austine, whom they worshiped: that of all places none of thē thought of likelihood, that they should be there: in which quest they continued very earnest all that night, and the next day.

Assoone as Marcellus sawe all the Knights and Nobles depar­ted, and all the Court in an vprore, now fearing that if Maximus should see the Letter hée had giuen Parismenos, hée would know his hand: when all were in an excéeding vprore, he came to Dulcia in great hast, and told her all that had befallen, telling her, that he must now for a time leaue her: for that he knew his father would vppon sight of the Letter be so much incenst against him, that it were méere fondnesse in him to stay and abide his furie: with that Dulcias heart panted with griefe, and her eyes melted into teares, desiring him most humblie vpon her knées, that he would not leaue her behinde, whose life would be worse then death without his presence: for my Lord (quoth she) if you will vouchsafe me this fauour, I will neuer forsake you for feare of any miserie, perill, or torment.

Marcellus tooke her vp with a kinde kisse, telling her that hée was most excéedingly glad that shée would goe with him, béeing the onely thing he most desired in the world. [Page] Then (quoth Dulcia) tell me what I shall do, and I will do it present­ly. (Quoth he) whilest I hold the Ladies in a talke, whose wits are now troubled, disguise your selfe, and slip out amongst them, and goe to Madam Panoras house, and there stay for me. Dulcia then presently cast off her vppermost garment, and put on some of the Ladies, such as she next found, and locking fast her Chamber doore, went through a­mongst the thickest of them: who séeing her locke the doore, tooke her for one of their fellowes that had brought Angelica to bed: and so let her passe without suspition.

Dulcia was no sooner downe stayres, but she hasted with all spéede vntill she was without the court gate, and from thence came to Pano­ras house, where she was let in by Panora, whō she told, that Marcel­lus had sent her thither, and would himselfe be there presently. Panora for his sake gaue her kind entertainment. Marcellus séeing all things fall out thus prosperously, and Dulcia past by, which hee noted, he left the Ladies, and presently went to his chamber, and armed himselfe in one of the Getulian knights armor, hauing none of his own, & went to Panoras house, where he found Dulcia, and caught her in his armes with a louing embrace: and being all thrée togither, he declared to Pa­nora all that had hapned, both of himselfe, Angelica and Dulcia, and that the knight that lodged in her house, was the Knight of Fame. Parismenos withall, requesting her secrecie and aide, to conceale Dulcia from all knowledge of her beeing there, where him­selfe stayed all that night: And the next day spending his time in much pleasure and kinde sort with Dulcia, whome hee loued most exceedingly, but without any blemish or thought of intempe­rancie.

Earely the next morning came the two Nobles from Maximus to arrest Marcellus, thinking to haue founde him there, but comming to his chamber, he was not there, nor in all the Court to bee found. Which caused an other tumult for his absence, y^t all had their minds so busied with cōceit of meditatiō why he shuld be fled, y^t they were all in a second amazement therewith, thogh none at all knowing why he was fled, nor knowing what offence hee had committed: the Queene like­wise, made heart sorrow for his mi shap. This newes being come to the Ladies that attended Dulcia, instead of Angelica, who thought to carrie the report of this newes to Angelica, but enquiring for the key of her chamber, could not heare of it: for euery one made answere [Page] they hadde it not, then beganne a corontuersie amongst them, enquiring who it was that came out last, but the truth thereof they could not learne, that they began to suspect each other, and that she that had the key had lost the same, and would not be knowne thereof: that at last they began to knocke first softly, and then hard, but none made answere, which draue them all into an extreame perplexitie, and with much ado, to rid themselues of that fear, they got vpon the doore, where at there comming they could not finde Angelica, but found some of her ornaments cast in the middest of the floore: that then with wringing their hands, tearing their haire, and renting their ornaments, they made such an outcrie and exclamation, that all the court rung thereof: which caused the Queene, the Nobles and almost all the whole court gather to that place, where the Queene being come, and knowing the cause of their sorrow sat down amongst them, opprest with care, and vttered these speeches: Peace, peace, giue ouer this vaine lamentation, for you know not for whom you mourne, it was not Angelica you had the custodie of, therefore cease your laments, and giue me leaue to mourne, that haue iust cause: who am a partie of all these woes, that at once haue lost the company of both my deare children, and all procu­red by Maximus misdoubt, who left Angelica in the maiden Tower, who is stolen from thence, and now my sonne Marcellus with Dulcia is likewise fled. Aye me, what sorrow is this; whose griefe may be compared to mine? was euer any so miserable as I am made, that at one instant haue lost my comfort, my children, my ioyes and delight? with that such a passion of griefe ouerwhelmed her hart, that her speech abruptly bracke off, and more shee would haue said but could not, that the ladies tooke her vp, being fallen into a deadly trance, and conueied her to her bed.

Thus was the whole Court and Citie repleate with care, euery one vttering their fancies: the younger for accusting Maximus of cru­eltie, alleaging that he was cause of those cares: the elder condemning the two young Princes of lowdnesse and lightnesse, that would enter into these actions without their parents consent. And two Noblemen returned againe to Maximus with these newes, which added newe cares to his troubled head, that Angelicas escape did not so much greeue him, as that Marcellus, shuld both be Actor in her escape, & also would make so base a cho [...]se of Dulcia, with whom, all were assured [Page] he was fled, neither did all these so much vexe him, as that he was dis­appointed of all meanes to reuenge these wrongs.

Maximus continued many daies in the maiden T [...]er, calling togither all the knights of the land, commaunding them to make all di­ligent search, and to appoint some that should stay in euery place of the countrie, and examine euery passenger, for that his minde gaue him, Angelica and Marcellus were within Getulia: This businesse was so speedily and exactly performed, that it was impossible for them to escape vnknowne or vndescried.

Marcellus the next night after all the tumults, hauing by many per­swasions and intreaties wonne Dulcia to stay with Panora, and with promise of his spéedie returne, armed himselfe in the Armour hée had gotten, and departed from thence, with intent to goe to Saint Au­stines Chappell, where hée was sure hée should heare of Parismenos, and by the way met with many of the Getulian Knights, who knewe him not but by his armour, tooke him to be a Getulian knight named Portellus, whose armour Marcellus had put on: this Portellus was a knight of the kings Court, who not long since was departed into Li­bia, without the knowledge of any but Marcellus, who had sent him to view Venolas beautie, and to learne if he could the originall of that accusation was laide against the knight of Fame, in whose armour Marcellus past without suspition, being taken of all for Portellus.

Earely the next morning he arriued at S. Austens Chappell, where he would neither knocke nor enter, vntill he was sure there was none to descrie him. When Iabin first sawe him, his heart was tormented with feare, demaunding what he would haue. Feare not Iabin (quoth he) I am your friend Mxrcellus, with that he entred into the Chappell, whom Iabin would not suffer to goe further, vntill hée had séene his face, which when he beheld, he embraced him most louingly, and with­out speaking a word brought him into his Cell, where was Parisme­nos, Angelica and Anna, who all at one ebeholding him, and hée them, embraced each other with excéeding ioy, being so glad they had met, that Angelica wept for ioy, Parismenos surfetted with delight, and Marcellus heart was filled with excéeding content: when these stormes of ioy were past and somewhat calmed, Marcellus declared to them all what had happened, and how that Maximus had set most di­ligent spies in euery corner of the countrie, and withall, declared the cause why he was fled, the manner, and with whom, his loue to Dul­cia [Page] how hée had left her with Panora, and how happily hée had passed vnsuspected in Portellus Armour, which when they heard, they all ap­plauded, and reioyced at his fortunate successe: to whom Angelica said with a merry countenance: Dulcia hath lost nothing by assuming my name and habit, but therby hath woonne a constant knights loue, and may hereafter by that meanes come to bée a Quéene. Indeed Mar­cellus whatsoeuer others may say, I perswade and assure my selfe, you haue gotten a vertuous, beautifull, chaste, kinde, [...] louing Ladies loue, whose good partes I haue often commended in my secret thoughts, but now am glad that I haue so good opportunitie to speak of them in your hearing: what though shée be not of kingly race, her vertues are such as may beséeme the best Lady in the world.

Marcellus was glad to heare Angelica so much commend his belo­ued Dulcia, that hée said: Indéed Sister I haue chosen Dulcia, I loue her, and will héereafter be true to her, for her beautie, vertue, and good parts, do please me so much, y^t if I liue to enioy the Getulian crowne, she shall be my Quéene: withall, I am glad you haue met your knight, of whose company I am sure you are not a little glad. With that An­gelica blusht, and he saide: Nay Sister blush not, for he hath better de­serued your loue, then Dulcia hath mine.

In these and such like communications, they spent the rest of that day, studying and deuising what might be their best course to take in these troublesome affaires.

After that Marcellus had stayed some time with Parismenos and Angelica in Saint Austins Cappell, he againe departed in Portellus armour towards Dulcia, where hée arriued to her excéeding comfort, without suspition, wishing that hée had bene with Angelica that hée might haue enioyed both her and their companie togither.

After Marcellus was departed, Parismenos and Angelica beganne to studie which way they might escape Maximus crueltie, beeing both desirous to goe into Bohemia, but they knew not how to passe without being discouered, for that the King still continued his diligent searche: and besides, if that let [...] not beene, yet the iourney was so long and daungerous, that Parismenos was vnwilling to endaunger her per­son and health thereby, that hee was drawne to an exceeding astonish­ment what were best to bee done: that beeing vnskilfull of themselues what to determine off, they asked olde Iabines counsell, who present­lie tolde them, that if they liked his simple fare, and that homely Cell, [Page] where though they were not daintilie serued, yet they were quiet, that hee thought it their best course to staye there will vntill Maximus were out of hope to [...]de them, and had giuen ouer his search, or at the least vntill Marcellus were returned, whose counsell they both allowed and followed.

Maximus still remained in the Maiden Tower, fretting his heart with vexation and griefe, being put out of all comfort by his Knights that [...]ly returned without any newes, that in the ende bee was tyred with grie [...]e, and fared like one in a desperate estate: but by the counsell of his Nobles, after much trouble and long search, hee returned to the Court where the Quéene was, to comfort her: who at his comming he found very sicke, and in very weake estate, beeing procured by the greefe shée had conceiued for her childrens losse. Maximus seeing her in that dangerous estate, began to comfort her with many perswasions: but shee was so impatient and so full of griefe, that shee vttered these spéeches. Comfort, my Lord, commeth now out of season, when our greefes are past remedie, which you might haue salued when time ser­ued: it is your curiositie and too fonde suspect, that hath bred these mis­chaunces, you giue too much credit to that foule enchantresse spéeches, which your selfe desire to prooue true, or else you wold neuer take those cruell courses you haue done with your children. Might you not often haue married Angelica according to your desire, so many Honourable and great personages; what if she be now married, can that indaun­ger your life, vnlesse you will be the wilfull actor thereof your selfe? but by your seuetitie you haue done this, which is now impossible to be [...]euoured.

Maximus heart at these spéeches began to melt with lenitie, and his owne conscience began to condemne himselfe, that now hee repen­teth the seueritie he had vsed, and accused himselfe of follie, to giue such credit to the enchauntresse speeches, that he protested if he had his chil­dren againe, he would not restraine them so much of their libertie, but that he would let them make choyce according to their owne fancies: and in this heauy estate we will leaue him: deuising what meanes to worke by gentlnesse to call them home againe.

Marcellus all this while continued with Dulcia in Lady Pa­noras house, and nowe hearing that Maximus was returned from the maiden Tower, and had giuen ouer search, as hopeles to finde either [Page] Angelica or him: he determined to conuey Dulcia to Saint Anstin [...] Chappell, for that Panoras-House was too neare the Court, and there they might by ill For [...]ue soone be descryed, that with this resolution he came to Dulcia, and made her acquainted with his purpose, whome he knewe before would be whollie ruled by him: Hee did the like to Pa­nora: and the next night hee caused Dulcia somewhat to disguise her selfe, and méete him at Saint-Martines Gate, where he would stay for her: For that if hee should carry a Ladie behinde him thorough the Cittie, he thought he should haue bene suspected. Dulcia most wa [...]lie and carefully executed his businesse, which [...]ell out so happily and For­tunately, that according to both theyr desires, and Marcellus appoint­ment, they mette at the Gate. And Marcellus hauing mounted her be­hinde him, with a ioyfull heart roade towardes the Chappell, where likewise according to his desire hee arriued: Which brought no little ioy vnto Parismenos heart, that at the first with many courteous em­bracings, and afterwardes with pleasant conference, they entertayned that delightfull content, of enioying eache others presence. Iabines Cell was now so full of Guests, that it could scarce containe them, that if they had stayed there longer, it would haue bene more like a Prison, then a place of content.

It happened the next morning, that Iabine went to make proui­sion for his Guests, and by the way met with Portellus, who was late­ly returned from Lybia: and comming to the Court, and not finding Marcellus, whome he loued most déerely, he had wandered in a sollita­rie, sadde, and heauy disposition, vp and downe all the last day, and that night: and now espying olde Iabin, he came to him, and knowing him, he saide: Iabine, the time hath bene, when Getulia excéeded in Roialty, but now all things is turned vpside downe. Marcellus was woont to vse your companie, but now no man knoweth where he is: Would I were but with him, then my cares would be past. Why (quoth Iabin). What might I call your name, that know me, and are des [...]reus to [...] Marcellus? My Name (quoth hee) is Portellus. Iabine hearing his Name, well remembred that hee had often heard Marcellus desire that hee were with him, saide: Portellus, Come along with mee, and I will bring you to one that can tell you where Marcellus is: With that they departed backe to the Chappell, where Iabin entred, and told Marcellus that Portellus was without: Who hearing his speeches, ra [...] vnto him, and embraced, and brought him in: Whome Angelica likewise [Page] knew and Welcommed. Then Parismenos, Marcellus, and Portellus, giuing no delay to the necessitie of time and businesse they had in hand, began to consult what to doo; Where euery one gaue their seueral opi­nions, but could agrée vpon nothing: At last they called Iabine to their counsell, whose Wisedome had much auailed them: Who presently ha­uing such a determination in his minde before, counselled them to send Portellus into Bohemia, with Letters from Parismenos vnto his Fa­ther, to request his Ayde, and to send a Bande of Souldiers, to defend him from Maximus crueltie.

This counsell was excéedingly well liked of all: especially Portellus was excéedingly willing to goe about that businesse: that presently fur­nishing himselfe with Horse and Armour, hauing a Letter to that effect from Parismenos, and the Iewell which Laurana knewe him by, which hee desired Portellus to deliuer vnto his Mother, as an assured token that he came from him. Hee hasted with all spéede about his businesse, and soone arriued in Bohemia, and deliuered the Letter and the Iewell vnto Laurana. The newes of Portellus comming was soone[?] knowne in the Court, and the cause why hee came: Which when the Nobles and Commons heard, Parismus néeded not Muster vp men: For euery one were desirous to be employed, and came voluntary, and offred their seruice, accounting it a dishonor to be refused: and within a short space, there were gathered together of Nobles, Knightes, and Gentlemen, a great number, and to them Parismus added so manie, that there were twentie thousand Horsemen in a readinesse, vnder the Conduct of Pol­lipus, who was most desirous of that honour, and had gotten Violettas consent: Who with all haste marched towardes Getulia. Parismus then gathered together an Armie of fiftie thousand expert Souldyers, vnder his Conduct and Tellamors, Who was but lately arriued at the Bohemian Court with Clarina.

CHAP. XXII.

[Page] WHile these things were acting in Bohemia, Paris­menos with Angelica, and Marcellus, with his swéete Loue Dulcia, remained in great safetie, and content, beeing voyde of feare to be now descried: seeing they had remained there in safety in all th [...]se Troubles, and being pende within a little Roome, were desirous of some Recreation, and in an Eue­ning, when they thought none were styrring, they went out of the Cell into a swéete Groue, hard adioyning therevnto: Where they walked vp and down, and at last, Parismenos taking An­gelica aside, vnto a pleasant Banke, bedeckt with many swéet summer Flowers, and Marcellus likewise Dulcia, rested themselues not farre from them, recreating themselues with sweete embracings.