IN August last passed my familiar friend Master G. T. bestowed vp­pon me y^• reading of a writ­ten Booke, wherin he had collected diuers discourses & verses, inuented vppon sun­drie occasions, by sundrie gentlemē (in mine opinion) right commendable for their capacitie. And herewithal my said friend charged me, that I should vse them onely for mine owne particuler com­moditie, and eftsones safely deliuer the originall copie to him againe, wherein I must confesse my selfe but halfe a marchant, for the copie vnt [...] him I haue safely redeliue­red. But the worke (for I thought it worthy to be publi­lished) I haue entreated my friend A. B. to emprint: as one that thought better to please a number by common commoditie then to féede the humor of any priuate parson by nedelesse singularitie. This I haue aduentured, for thy contentation (learned Reader.) And further haue pre­sumed of my selfe to christen it by the name of A hundreth sundrie Flowers: In which poeticall posie are setforth ma­nie trifling fantasies, humorall passions, and straunge af­fects of a Louer. And therin (although the wiser sort wold turne ouer the leafe as a thing altogether fruitlesse) yet I my selfe haue reaped this commoditie, to sit and smile at the fond deuises of such as haue enchayned them selues in the golden fetters of fantasie, and hauing bewrayed them [Page 202] selues to the whole world, do yet coniecture y^• they walke vnséene in a net. Some other things you may also finde in this Booke, which are as voyde of vanitie, as the first are lame for gouernement. And I must confesse that (what to laugh at the one, & what to learne by the other) I haue contrary to the chardge of my said friend G. T. procured for these trifles this day of publication. Wherat if the aucthors onely repyne, and the number of other learned mindes be thankfull: I may then boast to haue gained a bushell of good will, in exchange for one pynt of péeuish choler. But if it fal out contrary to expectatiō that the readers iudgements agrée not with myne opinion in their commendacions, I may then (vnlesse their curtesies supplie my want of discretion) with losse of some labour, accompt also the losse of my familier friendes, in doubt whereof, I couer all our names, and referre you to the well written letter of my friende G. T. next following, whereby you may more at large consider of these occasi­ons. And so I cōmend the praise of other mens trauailes together with the pardon of mine owne rashnes, vnto the well willing minds of discrete readers. From my lodg­ing nere the Strande the xx. of Ianuary. 1572.

H. W.

WHen I had with no small entreatie obteyned of Master F. I. and sundry other toward young gen­tlemen, the sundry copies of these sundry matters, then aswell for that the number of them was great, as also for that I found none of them, so barreyne, but that (in my iudgmēt) had in it Aliquid Salis, and especially being con­sidered by the very proper occasion whereuppon it was written (as they them selues did alwayes with the verse reherse vnto me the cause y^• then moued them to write) I did with more labour gather them into some order, and so placed them in this register. Wherein as neare as I could gesse, I haue set in the first places those which Ma­ster. F. I. did compyle. And to begin with this his history that ensueth, it was (as he declared vnto me) written vp­pon this occasiō. The said F. I. chaunced once in the north partes of this Realme to fall in company of a very fayre gentlewoman whose name was Mistresse Elinor, vnto whom bearinge a hotte affection, he first aduentured to write this letter following.

G. T.

THis letter by hir receiued (as I haue hard him say) hir answere was this: She toke occasion one daye, at his request to daunce with him, the which do­inge, she bashfully began to declare vnto him, that she had read ouer the writinge, which he deliuered vnto hir, with like protestation, that (as at deliuerie therof, she vnderstode not for what cause he thrust the same into hir bosome,) so now she coulde not perceyue therby any part of his meaning, neuerthelesse at last semed to take vppon hi the matte and though she disabled hir selfe, yet gaue him thankes as &c. Wheruppon he brake the braule, and walkinge abrode deuised immediatly these fewe verses followinge.

G. T.

I Haue heard the Aucthor saye, that these were the first verses that euer he wrote vppon like occasion. The which cōsidering y^e matter precedent, may in my iudge­ment be well allowed, and to iudge his doings by the ef­fectes he declared vnto me, that before he coulde put the same in legible writinge, it pleased the sayd Mystresse E­linor of hir curtesie thus to deale with him. Walking in a garden among diuers other gentlemen & gentlewomen, with a little frowning smyle in passing by him, she deli­uered vnto him a paper, with these words. For that I vn­derstand not (quoth shee) th'intent of your letters, I pray you take them here againe, and bestow them at your plea­sure. The which done and sayde, shée passed by without change either of pace or countenaunce. F. I. somewhat troubled with her angrie looke, did sodenly leaue the com­panie, & walking into a parke neare adioyning, in great rage began to wreake his mallice on this poore paper, and he same did rend and teare in péeces. When sodenly at a glaunce he perceaued it was not of his owne hande wri­ting, and therewithall abashed, vppon better regard he perceyued in one péece therof written (in Romaine) these letters S H E: wherefore placing all the péeces therof, as [Page 208] orderly as he could, he found therin written, these fewe lynes hereafter followinge.

G. T.

MY friend F. I. hath tolde me diuers times, that imediatly vppon receit hereof, he grew in ielosy, that the same was not her owne deuise. And ther in I haue no lesse allowed his iudgment, then cō ­mended his inuention of the verses, and letters before rehersed. For as by the stile this letter of hirs bewrayeth that it was not penned by a womans capacitie, so the sequell of hir doings may discipher, that she had me ready clearkes then trustie seruants in store. Well yet as the perfect hound, when he hath chased the hurt deere, amidde the whole heard, wil neuer giue ouer till he haue singled it againe. Euen so F. I. though somewhat abashed with this doubtfull shewe, yet still constant in his former in­tention, ceased not by all possible meanes, to bringe this [Page 209] Déere yet once agayne to the Bowes, wherby she might be the more surely stryken: and so in the end enforced to yeeld. Wherfore he thought not best to commit the sayde verses willingly into hir custodie, but priuily lost them in hir chamber, written in counterfeit. And after on the next day thought better to replie, either vpon hir, or vp­pon hir Secretary in this wyse as here followeth.

G. T.

THis letter finished and fayre written ouer, his chaūce was to méete hir alone in a Gallery of the same house: where (as I haue heard him declare) his manhood in this [Page 210] kind of combat was first tryed, and therein I can com­pare him to a valiant Prince, who distressed with power of enemies had committed the safegard of his person to treaty of Ambassade, and sodenly (surprised with a Cam­nassado in his own trenches) was enforced toyéeld as pri­soner. Euen so my friend F.I. lately ouercome by y^• beau­tifull beames of this Dame Elynor, and hauing now cō ­mitted his most secrete intent to these late rehearsed let­ters, was at vnwares encountred with his friendly foe, and constrayned either to prepare some new defence, or else like a recreant to yéeld himself as already vāquished. Wherfore (as in a traunce) he lifted vp his dazled eyes, & so continued in a certen kind of admiration, not vnlike the Astronomer, who (hauing after a whole nights tra­uayle, in grey morning found his desired starre) hath fixed his hungry eies to behold the Comete long looked for: wherat this gracious Dame (as one that could discerne y^e sun before hir chāber windowes were wide opē) did deign to embolden the feinting Knight w^t these or like words.

I perceiue now (quod she) how mishap doth follow me, that hauing chosen this walke for a simple solace, I am here disquieted by the man that meaneth my distructiō ▪ & therwithal, as half angry, began to turne hir back, when as my friend F.I. now awaked, gan thus salute hir.

Mystres (quod he) and I perceiue now, y^• good hap haūts me, for being by lack of oportunitie constreined to cōmit my welfare vnto these blabbing leaues of bewraying pa­pe (shewing y^• in his hand) I am here recōforted w^t happy view of my desired ioye, & therewithall reuerētly kissing his hand, did softly distreine hir slende arme & so stayed hir departure. The first blow thus profered & defended, they walked & talked trauersing diuers wayes, wherein I doubt not but y^• my friend. F.I. could quit himself reso­nably well. And though it stood not with duty of a friend that I should therin require to know hir secrets, yet of [Page 211] him self he declared thus much, that after long talke shée was contented to accept his proferd seruice, but yet still disabling hir self, and séeming to maruell what cause had moued him to subiect his libertie so wilfully, or at least in a prison (as she termed it) so vnworthy. Whereunto I néede not rehearse his answere, but suppose now, y^• thus they departed: sauing I had forgotten this, shée required of him the last rehearsed letter, saying that his frist was lost, & now she lacked a new bottome for hir silke, the which I warrāt you, he graūted: and so profering to take an humble congé by Bezo las manos, shée graciously gaue him the zuccado dez labros: and so for then departed. And therupō recōpting hir words, he cōpyled these following, which he termed Terza sequenza, to swéet Mystres SHE.

G. T.

WHen he had wel sorted this sequence, he sought opor­tunitie to leaue it where she might finde it before it were lost. And now the coles begā to kindle, wherof (but ere whyle) she feig [...]ed hir self altogither ignorant. The flames began to break out on euery syde: & she to quench them, shut vp hir selfe in hir chamber solitarely. But as the smithie gathers greater heat by casting on of water, euen so the more she absented hir self from company, the fresher was the grief which galded hir remembrance: so that at last the report was spred thorough the house, that [Page 213] Mystres Elinor was sicke. At which newes F. I. tooke small comfort: neuerthelesse Dame Venus with good as­pect dyd yet thus much furder his enterprise. The Dame (whether it were by sodain chaunge, or of wonted cu­stome) fell one day into a great bléeding at the nose. For which accident the said F. I. amongst other prety cōceits, hath a present remedy, wherby he tooke occasion (when they of the house had all in vayne sought many ways to stop hir bléeding) to worke his feate in this wyse: First he pleaded ignorance, as though he knewe not hir name, and therefore demaunded the same of one other Gentle­womā in the house, whose name was Mistres Frances, who when shée had to him declared that hir name was Elinor, hée said these wordes or very lyke in effect: If I thought I should not offend Mystres Elynor, I would not doubt to stop hir bléeding, without eyther payne or diffi­culty. This gentlewoman somewhat tyckled wyth hys words, did incontinent make relacion thereof to the sayd Mystres Elynor, who immediately (declaring that F. I. was hir late receyued seruaunt) returned the sayd mes­sanger vnto him with especiall charge, that hée shoulde employ his de [...]oyre towards the recouery of hir health, with whom the same F. I. repayred to the chamber of his desired: and finding hir sette in a chayre, leaning on the one side ouer a siluer bason: After his due reuereuce, hée layd his hand on hir temples, and priuily rounding hir in hir eare, desired hir to commaund a Hazell sticke and a knyfe: the which being brought, hée deliuered vnto hir, saying on this wyse. Mystres I wil speak certen words in secret to my selfe, and doe require no more: but when you heare me saie openly this word Amen, that you with this knyfe will make a nycke vppon this hasell stycke: and when you haue made fyue nickes, commaunde mée also to cease. The Dame partly of good wil to the knight, and partly to be stenched of hir bléeding, commaunded [Page 214] hir mayd, and required the other gentils, somewhat to stand asyde, which done, he began his oraisons, wherein he had not long muttered before he pronounced Amen, wherewith the Lady made a nyck on the stick with hir knyfe. The said F. I. continued to an other Amen, when the Lady hauing made an other nyck felt hir bléeding, be­gan to steynch: and so by the third Amen throughly stein­ched. F. I. then chaunging his prayers into priuate talk, said softly vnto hir. Mystres, I am glad that I am hereby enabled to do you some seruice, and as the staunching of your own bloud may some way recōfort you, so if y^• shed­ding of my bloud may any way content you, I beséech you commaund it, for it shalbe euermore readily employ­ed in your seruice, and therwithal with a loud voyce pro­nounced Amen: wherwith the good Lady making a nyck did secretly answere thus. Good seruaunt (quod shée) I must néeds think my self right happy to haue gained your seruice and good will, and be you sure, that although ther be in me no such desert as may draw you into this depth of affection, yet such as I am, I shalbe alwayes glad to shewe my self thankfull vnto you, and now, if you think your self assured, that I shall bléede no more, doe thē pro­nonce your fifth Amen, the which pronounced, shée made also hir fifth nicke, and held vp hir head, calling the company vnto hir, and declaring vnto them, that hir blée­ding was throughly steinched. Well, it were long to tell, what sundry opinions were pronounced vpon this acte, and I doe dwell ouerlong in the discourses of this F. I. especially hauing taken in hand only to copie out his ver­ses, but for the circumstāce doth better declare the effect, I will returne to my former tale. F. I. tarying a while in the chamber found oportunitie to loose his sequence néere to his desired Mistres: And after congé taken departed. After whose departuer the Lady arose out of hir chayre, & hir mayd going about to remoue the same, espied, & tooke [Page 215] vp the writing: the which hir mistres perceiuing, gan so­denly cōiecture that y^• same had in it some like matter to the verses once before left in like maner, & made semblāt to mistrust that the same shuld be some words of cōiura­tion: and taking it frō hir mayd, did peruse it, & immedi­atly said to the cōpany, that she would not forgo the same for a great treasure. But to be plain, I think that (F. I. ex­cepted) she was glad to be rid of all cōpany, vntill shée had with sufficient leasure turned ouer & retossed euery card in this sequēce. And not long after being now tickled tho­rough all the vaines with an vnknown humour, aduen­tured of hir self to cōmit vnto a like Ambassadour the dis­cyphring of that which hitherto she had kept more secret, & therupō wrot with hir own hand & head in this wyse.

G. T.

THis letter I haue séene, of hir own hand writing: and as therin the Reader may finde great difference of Style, from hir former letter, so may you nowe vnder­stand the casue. Shée had in the same house a friend, a ser­uaunt, a Secretary: what should I name him? such one as shée estéemed in time past more than was cause in tyme present, and to make my tale good, I will (by report of my very good friend F. I.) discribe him vn­to you. Hée was in height, the proportion of twoo [Page 216] Pigmeys, in bredth the thicknesse of two bacon hogges, of presumption a Gyant, of power a Gnat, Apishly wytted, Knauishly mannerd, & crabbedly fauord, what was there in him then to drawe a fayre Ladies liking? Marry sir euen all in all, a well lyned pursse, wherwith he could at euery call, prouide such pretie conceytes as pleased hir péeuish fantasie, and by that meanes he had throughly (long before) insinuated him selfe with this amorous dame. This manling, this minion, this slaue, this secre­tary, was nowe by occasion rydden to London forsothe: and though his absence were vnto hir a disfurnishing of eloquence: it was yet vnto F. I. an opertunitie of good aduaūtage, for when he perceiued the change of hir stile, and therby grew in some suspicion that the same proce­ded by absence of hir chiefe Chauncellor, he thought good now to smyte while the yron was hotte, and to lend his Mistresse such a penne in hir Secretaries absence, as he should neuer be able at his returne to amende the well writing thereof, wherfore according to hir commaund he repayred once euery daye to hir chamber, at the least, whereas he guided him selfe so wel, and could deuise such store of sundry pleasure and pastymes, that he grew in fauour not onely with his desired, but also with the rest of the gentlewomen. And one daye passing the time a­mongst them, their playe grew to this end, that his Mi­stresse, being Quéene, demaunded of him these thrée que­stions. Seruaunt (quod she) I charge you, aswell vp­pon your allegiance being nowe my subiect, as also vp­pon your fidelitie, hauing vowed your seruice vnto mée that you aunswere me these thrée questions, by the very truth of your secret thought. First, what thing in this v­niuersall world doth most reioyce and comforte you? F. I. abasing his eyes towardes the ground, toke good aduise­ment in his aunswere, when a fayre gentlewoman of the company clapped him on the shoulder, saying, how [Page 217] now sir, is your hād on your halfpeny? To whom he aun­swered, no fayre Lady, my hand is on my harte, and yet my hart is not in myne owne handes: wherewithall a­bashed turning towardes dame Elinor he sayed. My soue­reigne & Mistresse, according to the charge of your com­maund, and the dutie that I owe you, my tongue shal be­wraye vnto you the truth of myne intent. At this present a rewarde giuen me without desert▪ doth so reioyce mée with continuall remembraunce therof, that though my mind be so occupied to thinke thereon, as that daye nor night I can be quiet from that thought, yet the ioye and pleasure which I conceiue in the same is such, that I can neither be cloyed with continuaunce therof, nor yet a­frayde, that any mishap can counteruayle so great a trea­sure. This is to me such a heauen to dwell in, as that I féede by day, and repose by night, vpon the fresh record of this reward, this (as he sayeth) he ment by the kysse that she lent him in the Gallery, and by the profession of hir last letters and wordes. Well, though this aunswere be somewhat mistie, yet let my friendes excuse be: that taken vppon the sodeyne he thought better to aunswere darkely, then to be mistrusted openly. Hir second questiō was, what thing in this life did moste greue his harte, and disquiet his mind, whereunto he answered. That al­though his late rehersed ioye were incomparable, yet the greatest enimie that disturbed the same, was the priuie worme of his owne giltie conscience, which accused him euermore with great vnworthinesse: and that this was his greatest grief. The Lady byting vppon the bit at his cunning answeres made vnto these two questions, gan thus replie, Seruant, I had thought to haue touched you yet nearer with my third question, but I will refrayne to attempt your pacience: and now for my third demaūd, aunswere me directly in what manner this passion doth handle you? and howe these contraries maye hang toge­ther [Page 218] by any possibilitie of concorde? for your wordes are strauunge. F. I. now rowsing him selfe boldly toke oc­casion thus to handle his aunswere. Mistresse (quod he) my wordes in dede are straunge, but yet my possion is is much straunger, and theruppon this other day to con­tent mine owne fātasie I deuised a Sonet, which although it be a péece of Cocklorells musicke, and such as I might be ashamed to publish in this company, yet because my truth in this aunswere may the better appeare vnto you, I pray you vouchsafe to receiue the same in writing: and drawing a paper out of his packet presented it vnto hir, wherin was written this Sonet.

G. T.

THis Sonet was highly commended, and in my iudge­ment it deserueth no lesse, I haue heard F. I. saye, that he borowed th'inuentiun of an Italian: but were it a translation or inuention (if I be Iudge) it is both prety and pithy. His dutie thus perfourmed, their pastimes en­ded, [Page 219] and at their departure for a watch worde hée coun­selled his Mistresse by little and little to walke abrode­sayinge that the Gallery neare adioyning was so plea­saunt, as if he were halfe dead hée thought that by walk­ing therin he might bée halfe and more reuiued. Think [...] you so seruaunt (quod she?) and the last tyme that I wal­ked there I suppose I toke the cause of my mallady, but by your aduise (and for you haue [...]o clerkly steynched my bleeding) I will assaye to walke there to morow. Mistres quod he, and in more ful accomplishment of my duetie to­wards you, and in sure hope that you wil vse y^• same one lie to your owne priuate cōmoditie, wil there awaite vp­pon you, & betwene you & me wil teach you the ful order how to steynch the bléeding of any creature, wherby you shall be as cuning as my selfe. Gramercy good seruaunt, qd she, I thinke you lost the same in writing here yester­day, but I cannot vnderstand it, and therfore to morrowe (if I féele my selfe any thing amended) I wil send for you thither to enstruct me throughly: thus they departed. And at supper time, the Knight of the Castel finding fault that his gestes stomacke serued him no better, began to accuse the gro [...]enes of his vyands, to whom one of the gentle­women which had passed the afternoone in his company, aunswered. Nay sir qd she, this gentleman hath a passiō, the which once once in a daye at the least doth kill his ap­petite. Are you so well acquainted with the disposition of his body qd the Lord of the house? by his owne saying, qd she, & not otherwise. Fayre Ladie qd F. I. you either mi­stoke me or ouerheard me then, for I told of a comforta­ble humor which so [...]ed me with continual remēbrance of ioye, as y^• my stomack being ful therof doth desire in ma­ner none other vittayles. Why sir, qd y^• host, do you then liue by loue? God forbid Sir quod F. I. for then my chéekes wold be much thinner then they be, but there are diuers other greater causes of ioy, then y^• doubtful lottes [Page 220] of loue, and for myne owne part, to be playne, I cannot loue, and I dare not hate. I would I thought so, quod the gentlewoman. And thus with prety nyppes, they passed ouer their supper: which ended, the Lord of the house re­quire [...] F. I. to daunce and passe the tyme with the gentle­woman, which he refused not to doe. But sodenly, before the musicke was well tuned, came out Dame Elynor in hir night attyre, and said to the Lord, that (supposing the solitarinesse of hir chāber had encreased hir maladie) she came out for hir better recreaciō to sée them daūce, Wel done daughter (quod the Lord.) And I Mistres (quod F. I.) would gladly bestowe the leading of you about this great chamber, to dryue away the fayntnesse of your fe­uer. No good seruaunt, quod the Lady, but in my stéede, I pray you daunce with this fayre Gentlewoman, pointing him to the Lady that had so taken him vp at supper. F. I. to auoyde mistrust, did agrée to hir request without fur­der entreaty. The daunce begon, this Knight marched on with the Image of S. Fraunces in his hand, and S. E­lynor in his hart. The violands at ende of the pauion stai­ed a whyle: in which time this Dame sayde to F. I. on this wyse. I am right sorry for you in two respects, al­though the familiarity haue hytherto had no great conti­nuance betwene vs: and as I do lament your case, so doo I reioyce (for myne own contentation) that I shall now sée a due triall of the experiment which I haue long desi­red. This sayd, she kept silence. When F. I. (somewhat astonied with hir straunge spéeche) thus aunswered: My­stres although I cannot conceyue the meaning of your wordes, yet by curtesy I am constrayned to yeelde you thankes for your good will, the which appeareth no lesse in lamenting of mishaps, than in reioycing at good for­tune. What experiment you meane to trye by mée, I know not, but I dare assure you, that my skill in experi­ments is very simple. Herewith the Instruments soun­ded [Page 221] a new Measure, and they passed forthwardes leauing to talke, vntill the noyse ceassed: which done, the gentle­woman replied. I am sory sir, that you did erewhile, de­nie loue and all his lawes, and that in so open audience. Not so quod F. I. but as the word was roundly taken, so can I readely aunswere it by good reason. Wel quod she, how if the hearers will admit no reasonable aunswere? My reason shall yet be neuerthelesse (quod he) in reasona­ble iudgement. Herewith she smyled, and he cast a glance towardes dame Elinor askances art thou pleased? Againe the vyols called them forthwardes, and againe at the end of the braule sayd F. I. to this gentlewoman: I pray you Mistres, and what may be the second cause of your sorow sustained in my behalfe? Nay soft quod she, percase I haue not yet told you the first, but content your selfe, for the se­cond cause you shall neuer know at my handes, vntill I sée due trial of the experiment which I haue long desired. Why then (quod she) I can but wish a present occasion to bring y^• same to effect, to y^e end that I might also vnder­stād y^e mistery of your meaning. And so might you fail of your purpose (quod she) for I meane to be better assured of him that shall know the depth of mine intent in such a secrete, than I do suppose that any creature (one except) may be of you. Gentlewomā (quod he) you speak Greeke, the which I haue now forgotten, and myne instructers are to farre from mée at this present to expound your words. Or els to neare (quod she) and so smiling stayed hir talke, when the musick called them to another daūce. Which ended, F. I. halfe afrayd of false suspect, and more amazed at this straunge talke, gaue ouer, and bringing Mistresse Fraunces to hir place was thus saluted by his Mistresse. Seruaunt (quod she) I hadde done you great wrong to haue daunced with you, con [...]dering that this gentlewoman and you had former occasion of so waighty conference. Mistresse sayd F. I. you had done mée great [Page 222] pleasure, for by our conference I haue but brought my braynes in a busie coniecture. I doubt not (sayd his Mi­stresse) but you wil end that busines easely. It is hard said F. I. to end the thing, wherof yet I haue founde no be­ginning. His Mistresse with change of countenaunce kept silence, whereat dame Fraunces reioycing, cast out this bone to gnawe on. I perceyue (quod she) it is euill to halt before a Creple. F. I. perceyuing now that his Mi­stresse waxed angry thought good on hir behalfe thus to aunswere: and it is euill to hop before them that runne for the Bell: his Mistresse replied, and it is euill to hang the Bell at their héeles which are alwayes running. The L. of he Castle ouerhearing these proper quippes, rose out of his chayre, and comming towards F. I. required him to daunce a Gallyard. Sir sayd F. I. I haue hitherto at your apoyntment but walked about the house, now if you be desirous to sée one tomble a turne or twayne, it is like ynough tyat I might prouoke you to laugh at mée, but in good faith my dauncing dayes are almost done, and therfore sir (quod he) I pray you speake to them that are more nymble at tripping on the toe. Whilest hée was thus saying dame Elynor had made hir Congey, and was now entring the doore of hir chamber: when F. I. all ama­zed at hir sodeyne departure followed to take leaue of his Mistresse: but she more then angrie, refused to heare his good night, and entring hir chamber caused hir mayde to clappe the doore. F. I. with heauie cheare returned to his company, and Mistresse Fraunces to toutch his sore with a corosiue sayd to him softly in this wise. Sir you may now perceyue that this our countrie cannot allowe the French maner of dauncing, for they (as I haue heard tell) do more commonly daunce to talke, then entreate to daunce. F. I. hoping to driue out one nayle with another, and thinking this a meane most conuenient to suppresse all ielous supposes, toke Mistresse Fraunces by the hand [...] [Page 223] and with a heauie smyle aunswered. Mistresse and I (because I haue séene the french maner of dauncing) will eftsones entreat you to daunce a Bargynet: what meane you by this quod Mistresse Fraunces. If it please you to fol­lowe (quod he) you shall sée that I can iest without ioye, and laugh without lust, and calling the musitions, caused them softly to sound the Tyntarnell, when he clearing his voyce did Alla Napolitana applie these verses following, vnto the measure.

G. T.

F. I.

THese verses are more in number than do stand with contentation of some iudgements, and yit the occasiō throughly considered, I can commend them with the rest, for it is (as may be well fermed) continua or at [...]o▪ declaring a full discourse of his first loue: wherin (ouer and besides that the Epythetes are aptly applied, & the verse of it self pleasant enough) I note that by it he ment in cloudes to discipher vnto Mistres Fraunces such matter as she wold snatch at, and yit could take no good hold of the same. Fur­thermore, it aunswered very aptly to the note which the musike sounded, as the skilfull reader by due triall may approue. This singing daunce, or daunsing song ended, Mistres Fraunces giuing due thanks, séemed weary also of the company, and profering to departe, gaue yit this farewell to F. I. not vexed by choller, but pleased with contentation, and called away by heauy sléepe: I am con­streyned (quod she) to bid you good night, and so turning to the rest of the company, tooke hir leaue. Then the Maister of the house commaunded a torch to light F. I. to his lodging, where (as I haue heard him saye) the sodeyn chaunge of his Mistres countenance, togither with the straungenes of Mistresse Fraunces talke, made such an encounter in his mynde, that he could take no reste that night: wherefore in the morning rysing very earely (al­though it were farre before his mistres hower) he rooled his choller by walking in the Gallery neare to hir lod­ging, and there in this passion compyled these vers [...]s fol­lowing.

G. T.

F. I.

THis is but a rough [...], and reason, for it was de­uised in great disquiet of mynd, and written [...] rage, yet haue I séene much worse passe the mustors, yea and where both the Lieutenant and Prouost Marshall were [...] of rype iudgement: and as it is, I pray you [...] here, for the truth is that F. I. himselfe had so [...] therin, that he neuer presented it, but to y^• matter. Whē he had long (and all in vayn) looked for the cōming of his Mistres into hir appointed walk: he wandred into y^• park néere adioyning to the Castle wall; where his chaunce was to méete Mistresse Fraunces, accompanied with one other Gentlewoman, by whom he passed with a reuerēce [Page 227] of curtesie: and so walking on, came into the side of a thic­ket▪ where he sat down vnder a trée to allay his sadnesse with solitarines. Mistres Fraunces, partly of curtesie and affection, and partly to content hir mind by continuance of such talk as thei had commenced ouer night, entreated hir companion to goe with hir vnto this trée of reforma­cion, whereas they found the Knight with his armes vn­folded in a heauy kind of contemplation, vnto whom Mi­stres Fraunces stepped apace, (right softly) & at vnwares gaue this salutation. I little thought Syr Knight (quod she) by your euensong yesternight, to haue found you pre­sently at such a morrow masse, but I perceiue you serue your Saint with double deuotion: and I pray God graūt you treble méede for your true intent. F. I. taken thus v­pon the sodeine, could none otherwise answer but thus: I told you Mistresse (quod he) that I could laughe with­out lu [...], and iest without ioye: and there withall starting vp, with a more bolde countenance came towardes the Dames, profering vnto them his seruice, to wayte vpon thē home wards. I haue heard say oft times (qd Mistres Fraunces) that it is hard to serue two Maisters at one time, but we wilbe right glad of your company. I thank you (quod F. I.) and so walking on with them, fell in­to sundry discourses, still refusing to touch any part of their former communicacion, vntill Mistresse Frauuces sayd vnto him: by my troth (quod thée) I would bee your debtour these two dayes, to aunswer me truely but vn­to one question that I will propound: fayre Gentlewo­man (quod hée) you shall not neede to becomme my beb­tour, but if it please you to quit question by questiō, I wil be more ready to gratifie you in this request, than either reason requireth, or than you would be willing to worke my cōtentatiō. Master F. I. (qd she, & y^• sadly) peraduētur you know but a litle how willing I would be to procure [Page 228] your contentation, but you know that hitherto familia­ritie hath taken no déepe roote betwixt vs twayne. And though I find in you no maner of cause whereby I might doubt to commit this or greater matter vnto you, yit haue I stayed hitherto so to doe, in doubt least you might thereby iustly condempne mée both of arrogancy and lack of discretion, wherwith I must yit foolishly affirm, that I haue with great payne brydeled my tonge from disclosing the same vnto you. Such is then the good will that I beare towards you, the which if you rather iudge to bée impudencie, than a friendly meaning, I may then curse the hower that I first concluded thue to deale with you: herewithall being now red for chaste bashefulnesse, shée abased hir eyes, and stayed hir talke, to whom F. I. thus aunswered. Mistresse Fraunces, if I should with so excéeding villanie requite such and so excéeding courtesie, I might not onely séeme to digenerate from all gentry, but also to differ in behauiour from all the rest of my lyfe spent: wherefore to be playne with you in few wordes, I thinke my selfe so much bound vnto you for diuers res­pects, as if abilitie doe not fayle mée, you shall fynde mée myndfull in requitall of the same: and for disclosing your mind to mée, you may if so please you aduenture it with­out aduenture, for by this Sunne, quod hée, I will not deceyue such trust as you shall lay vppon mée, and fur­thermore, so farre foorth as I may, I wilbe yours in any respect: wherfore I beséech you accept me for your faith­full friend, and so shall you surely find mée. Not so, quod shée, but you shalbe my Trust, if you vouchsafe the name, and I wilbe to you as you shall please to terme mée: my H [...]pe (quod hée) if you so be pleasedand: thus agreed, they two walked a parte from the other Gentlewoman, and fell into sad talke, wherein Mistresse Fraunces dyd very curteousely declare vnto him, that in déed, one cause of [Page 229] hir sorrow susteyned in his behalfe, was that he had sayd so openly ouer night, that hée could not loue, for shée per­ceyued very well the affection betwéene him and Ma­dame Elynor, and she was also aduertised that Dame Elynor stood in the portall of hir chamber, harkening to the talke that they had at supper that night, wherefore she séemed to be sory that such a woord (rashely escaped) might become great hinderaunce vnto his desire: but a greater cause of hir grief was (as she declared) that hys hap was to bestowe his lyking so vnworthely, for shee séemed to accuse Dame Elynor, for the most vnconstant woman lyuing: In full profe whereof, she bewrayed vn­to F. I. how she the same Dame Elynor, had of long time ben yéelded to the Mynion Secretary, whom I haue be­fore described: in whom though there bee (quod shée) no one point of worthynesse, yit shameth she not to vse him as h [...] [...]ea [...]est friend, or rather hir holyest Idoll, and that this not withstanding Dame Elynor had bene also sun­dry tymes woone to choyce of chaunge, as she named vn­to F. I. two Gentlemen whereof the one was named H. D. and that other H. K. by whom shee was during sundry tymes of their feuerall aboad in those parties, en­treated to like [...]urteousie, for these causes the Dame Fraunces séemed to mislike F. I. choice, and to lament that she doubted in processe of time to sée him abused. The experiment she ment was this, for that she thought F. I. (I vse hir wordes) a man in euery respect very woorthy to haue the seuerall vse of a more commodious common, she hoped nowe to sée if his enclosure thereof might be defensible against hir sayd Secretary, and such like. These things and diuers other of great impor­tance, this courteouse Lady Fraunces did friendly disclose vnto F. I. and furthermore, did both instruct and aduise him how to procéede in his enterprise. Now to make my talke good, and least the Reader might bee drawen in a [Page 230] ielouse suppose of this Lady Fraunces; I must let you vn­derstand that shée was vnto F. I. a kinswoman, a vir­gin of rare chastitie, singular capacitie, notable mode­stie, and excellent beauty: and though F. I. had cast his affection on the other (being a married woman) yit was ther in their beauties no great difference: but in all other good giftes a wonderfull diuersitie, as much as might be betwene constancie & [...]litting fantasie, betwene womāly coūtenance & girlish garishnes, betwene hot dissimula­cion & temperate fidelitie. Now if any man will curiously aske the question why F. I. should chuse the one and leaue the other, ouer and besides the cōmon prouerbe? (So many men so many minds) thus may be answered: we sée by cō ­mon experience, y^• the highest flying fa [...]con, doth more cōmonly pray vpō the corn fed crow, & the simple shiftles doue, then on the mounting kyte: and why? because the one is ouercome with lesse difficultie then that other. Thus much in defence of this Lady Fraunces, & to excuse the choice of my friend F. I. who thought himself now no lesse beholding to good fortune, to haue found such a trusty friend, then bounden to Dame Venus, to haue wonne such a Mistres. And to returne vnto my pretence, vnderstand you, y^• F. I. (being now with these two fair Ladies come very néer the castle) grewe in some ielouse doubt (as on his own behalf) whether he were best to break cōpany or not. Whē his assured Hope, perceiuing the same, gan thus recomfort him: Good sir (qd she) if you trusted your trusty friends, you should not néede thus cowardly to stand in dread of your friendly enimies. Well said in faith (quod F. I. and I must confesse, you were in my bosome before I wist, but yit I haue heard said often, that in Trust is treason. Wel spokē for your self quod his Hope. F. I. now remembring that he had but erewhile taken vpon him y^• name of hir Trust, came home per misericordiam, when his Hope entring the Castle gate, caught hold of his lay, and [Page 231] half by force led him by the gallery vnto his Mistre [...] chā ­ber: wheras after a little dissembling disdain, he was at last by the good helpe of his Hope, right thankfully recey­ued: and for his Mistres was now ready to dyne, he was therfore for that time arested there, & a supersedias sent in­to the great chāber vnto the Lord of the house, who expe­cted his cōming out of the parke. The dinner ended, & he throughly contented both w^t welfare & welcome, they fell into sundry deuices of pastime: at last F. I. taking into his hand a Lute that lay on his Mistres bed, did vnto the note of y^• Venetian galliard applie the Italian [...]ittie writtē by the woorthy Bradamant vnto the noble Rugier, as Ari­ [...]sto hath it. Rugier qual semper fui, &c. but his Mistres could not be quiet vntil shée heard him repeat the Tyntar­nell which he vsed ouer night, the which F. I. [...] [Page 232] nights roste, with the bruse thereof. Well, seruaunt (quod she) content your selfe, and for your sake, I will speake to hir to prouide him a playster, the which I my selfe will applye to his hurt: And to the ende it may woorke the better with him, I will puruey a lodging for him, where hereafter he may sléepe at more quiet. This layd the rosie hewe, distained hir sickly chéekes, and she returned to the company, leauing F. I. rauished be­twene hope and dread, as one that could neyther co [...]ec­ture the meaning of hir misticall wordes, nor assuredly [...]rust vnto the knot of hir slyding affections. When the Lady Fraunces cōming to him, demaunded, what? dreame you sir? Yea mary do I fayre Lady (quod he). And what was your dreame, sir (quod she?) I drempt (quod F. I.) that wa [...]ing in a pleasaunt garden garnished with sundrie [...], my hap was to espie hanging in the ayre, a hope wher in I might well behold the aspectes and face of the heauens, and calling to remembrance the day and hower of my natiuitie, I did therby (according to my small skill in Astronomy) trie the conclusions of myne aduentures. And what found you therin (quod dame Fraunces?) you awaked me out of my dreame (quod he) or ells paraduen­ture you should not haue knowne. I beleue you well (quod the Ladi Fraunces) and laughing at his quicke aun­swere brought him by the hand vnto the rest of his com­panie: where he [...]aried not long before his gracious Mi­stresse had him to farewell, and to kepe his hower there againe, when he should by hir be sommoned. Hereby F. I. passed the rest of that daye in hope awayting the happy time when his Mistresse shoulde sende for him. Supper time came and passed ouer, and not long after came the handmayd of the Lady Elynor into the great chamber, de­siring F. I. to repayre vnto their Mistresse, the which hée willingly accomplished: and being now entred into hir [Page 233] chamber, he might perceyue his Mistresse in hir nightes attyre, preparinge hir selfe towardes bed, to whom F. I. sayed: Why howe now Mistresse? I had thought this night to haue sene you daunce (at least or at last) amongst vs? By my troth good seruaūt (qd she) aduentured so soone vnto the great chamber yesternight, that I find my selfe somewhat sickly disposed, and therfore do streyne curtesie (as you sée) to go the soner to my bed this night: but be­fore I slepe (quod she) I am to charge you with a matter of waight, and taking him apart from the rest, declared that (as that present night) she would talke with him more at large in the gallery néere aioyning to hir cham­ber. Here vppon F. I. discretely dissimuling his ioye, toke his leaue and returned into the great chamber, where he had not long continued before the Lord of the Castell commaūded a torch to light him vnto his lodging, where­as he prepared himselfe and went to bed, commaunding his seruant also to go to his rest. And when he thought aswell his seruaunt, as the rest of the houshold to be safe, he arose again, & taking his night gowne, did vnder the same conuey his naked sword, and so walked to the galle­rie, where he found his good Mistresse walking in hir night gowne and attending his comming. The Moone was now at the full, the skies cleare, and the weather temperate, by reason wherof he might the more playne­ly and with the greater contentation behold his long de­sired ioyes, and spreding his armes abrode to embrace his louing Mistresse, he sayd: oh my deare Lady when shall I be able with any desert to counteruayle the least parte of this your bountifull goodnesse? The dame (whe­ther it were of feare in déede, or that the wylynes of wo­manhode had taught hir to couer hir conceites with some fyue dissimulation) stert backe from the Kning [...], and shri­ching (but softly) sayd vnto him. Alas seruaunt what haue I deserued, that you come against me with naked sword [Page 234] as against an open enimie. F. I. perceyuing hir entent excused himselfe, declaring that he brought the same for their defence, & not to offend hir in any wise. The Ladie being therwith somwhat apeased, they began w^t more cō ­fortable gesture to expell the dread of the said late af­fright, and sithens to become bolder of behauiour, more familier in spéech, & most kind in accomplishing of comon comfort. But why hold I so long discourse in discribing the ioyes which (for lacke of like experience) I cannot set out to y^• ful? Were it not that I knowe to whom I write, I would the more beware what I write. F. I. was a man, and neither of vs are sencelesse, and therfore I shold slaunder him, (ouer and besides a greater obloquie to the whole genealogie of Enaeas) if I should imagine that of tender hart he would forbeare to expresse hir more ten­der limbes against the hard floore. Suffised that of hir curteouse nature she was content to accept bords for a bead of downe, mattes for Camerike shéetes, and the night gowne of F. I. for a counterpoynt to couer them, and thus with calme cōtent, in stéede of quiet sléepe, they be [...]uiled the night, vntill the proudest sterre began to a­bandon the fyrmament, when F. I. and his Mistresse, were constrayned also to abandon their delightes, and with ten thousand swéet kisses and straight embracings, did frame themselues to play loth to depart. Wel, reme­die was there none, but dame Elynor must returne vnto hir chamber, and F. I. must also conuey himselfe (as close­ly as might be) into his chamber, the which was hard to do, the day being so farre sprong, and hée hauing a large base court to passe ouer before he could recouer his staire foote doore. And though he were not much perceyued, yet the Ladie Fraunces being no lesse desirous to sée an issue of these enterprises, then F. I. was willing to couer them in secresy, did watch, & euen at the entring of his chamber doore, perceyued the poynt of his naked sworde glistring [Page 235] vnder the skyrt of his night gowne: wherat she smyled & said to hir selfe, this geare goeth well about. Wel, F. I. hauing now recouered his chamber, he went to bedde, & there let him sléepe, as his Mistresse did on that otherside. Although the Lady Fraunces being throughly tickled now in all the vaynes, could not enioye such quiet rest, but a­rising, toke another gentlewoman of the house with hir, and walked into the parke to take the freshe ayre of the morning. They had not long walked there, but they re­torned, and though F. I. had not yet slept sufficiently, for one which had so farre trauayled in the night past, yet they went into his chamber to rayse him, and comming to his beds side, found him fast on sléepe. Alas [...]uod that other gentlewoman, it were pitie to awake him: euen so it were quod dame Fraunces, but we will take awaye somewhat of his, wherby he may perceyue that we were here, and loking about the chamber, his naked sworde presented it selfe to the handes of dame Fraunces, who toke it with hir, and softly shutting his chamber doore a­gaine, went downe the stayres and recouered hir owne lodging, in good order and vnperceyued of any body, sa­uing onely that other gentlewoman which accompanied hir. At the last F. I. awaked, and apparreling himselfe, walked out also to take the ayre, and being throughly re­comforted aswell with remembraunce of his ioyes fore­passed, as also with the pleasaunt hermony which the Byr [...]es made on euery side, and the fragrant smel of the redolent flowers and blossomes which budded on euery braunche: hée did in these delightes compyle these verses following.

¶The occasion (as I haue heard him rehearse) was by encoūter that he had with his Lady by light of the moone: and forasmuch, as the moone in middes of their delights did vanish away, or was ouerspred with a cloud, thereup­pon [Page 236] he toke the subiect of his theame. And thus it ensueth, called a imooneshine Banquet.

G. T.

F. I.

THis Ballade, or howsoeuer I shall terme it, percase you will not like, and yet in my iudgement it hath great good store of déepe inuention, and for the order of the verse, it is not common, I haue not heard many of like proporcion, some will accompt it but a dyddeldome: but who so had heard F. I. sing it to the lute, by a note of his owne deuise, I suppose he would esteme it to bée a pleasaunt diddeldome, and for my part, if I were not parciall, I woulde saye more in commendacion of it than nowe I meane to do, leauing it to your and like iudgementes. And nowe to returns to my tale, by that time, that F. I. retorned out of the parke, it was dynner time, and at dynner they all met, I meane both dame E­lynor, dame Fraunces, and F. I. I leaue to discribe that the Lady Fraunces was gorgeously attired, and set forth with very braue apparell, and Madame Elynor onely in hir night gowne gyrt to hir, with a coyfe trymmed Alla Pi­edmonteze, on the which she ware a little cap crossed o­uer the crowne with two bends of yellowe Sarcenet or Cipresse, in the middest whereof she had placed (of hir owne had writing) in paper this word, Contented. This attyre pleased hir then to vse, and could not haue displea­sed Mistresse Fraunces, had she not bene more priuy to the cause, than to the thing it selfe: at least the Lord of the Castle of ignoraunce, and dame Fraunces of great temp [...] ­rance, let it passe without offence. At dynner, bicause the one was pleased with all former reconninges, and the [Page 239] other made priuie to the accompt, there passed no word of taunt or grudge, but omnia bene. After dynner dame Eli­nor being no lesse desirouse to haue F. I. company, then dame Fraunces was to take him in some pretie trippe, they began to questiō how they might best passe the day: the Lady Elynor séemed desirous to kepe her chamber, but Mistresse Fraunces for another purpose séemed desirous to ryde abrode thereby to take the open ayre: they agréed to ryde a myle or twayne for sollace, and requested F. I. to accompany them, the which willingly graunted. Eche one parted from other, to prepare themselues, and now began the sporte, for when F. I. was booted, his horses sadled, and he ready to ryde, he gan mysse his Rapier, wherat al astonied he began to blame his man, but blame whom he would, found it could not be. At last the Ladies going towardes horsebacke called for him in the base Court, and demaunded if he were readie: to whom F. I. aunswered. Madames I am more than readie, and yet not so ready as I would be, and immediatly taking him selfe in trip, he thought best to vtter no more of his con­ceipt, but in hast more than good spéede mounted his horse, & comming toward y^• dames presented him self, turning, bounding, & taking vp his courser to the vttermost of his power in brauery: after suffering his horse to breath him selfe, he gan also allay his owne choller, & to the dames he sayd. Fayre Ladies I am ready when it pleaseth you to ryde where so you commaund. How ready soeuer you be seruaunt, quod dame Elinor, it séemeth your horse is rea­dier at your commaunde then at oures. If he bée at my commaund Mistresse (quod hée,) he shalbe at yours. Gra­mercy good seruaunt (quod shée) but my meaning is, that I feare he be to stirring for our cōpany. If he proue so Mistres qd F. I. I haue here a soberer palfrey to serue you on. The Dames being mounted they rode forth­wardes by the space of a myle or very neare, and F. I. [Page 240] (whether it were of his horses corage or his own choler) came not so neare them as they wished, at last the Lady Fraunces said vnto him: Maister I. you said that you had a soberer horse, which if it be so, we wold be glad of your company, but I beleue by your coūtinance, your horse & you are agréed. F. I. alighting called his seruaunt, chaū ­ged horses with him, and ouertaking the Dames, said to Mistres Fraunces: And why doe you thinke faire Lady that my horse and I are agréed? Bicause by your counte­nance (quod she) it seemeth your pacience is stirred. In good faith, quod F. I. you haue gessed a right, but not with any of you. Then we care the lesse seruaunt, quod Dame Elinor▪ By my troth Mistres. qd F. I. (looking well about him that none might heare but they two) it is with my seruaunt, who hath lost my sword out of my chamber. Dame Elinor little remembring the occasion, replied it is no matter seruaunt, quod shee, you shall heare of it a­gaine, I warrant you, and presently wée ryde in Gods peace, and I turst shall haue no néede of it: yet Mistresse quod he, a weapon serueth both vses, aswell to defend, as to offend. Now by my troth, quod Dame Fraunces, I haue now my dream, for I dreamt this night that I was in a pleasaunt meadow alone, where I met with a tall Gentleman, apparelled in a night gowne of silke all em­broadered about with a gard of naked swords, and when he came towardes me I séemed to be afraide of him, but he recomforted me saying, be not afrayd fayre Lady, for I vse this garment onely for myne own defence: and in this sort went that warlicke God Mars what time hée taught dame Venus to make Vulcan a hamer of the newe fashion. Notwithstanding these comfortable wordes the fright of the dreame awaked me, and sithens vnto this hower I haue not slept at al. And what tyme of the night dreamt you this quod F. I? In the grey morning about daw [...]ing of y^• day, but why aske you quod dame Fran̄ces? [Page 241] F. I. with a great sigh answered, because that dreames are to be marched more at some hower of the night, then at some other, why are you so cunning at the interpre­tation of dreames seruaunt (quod the Lady Elynor?) not very cunning Mistresse quod F.I. but gesse, like a young scholler. The dames continued in these and like pleasant talkes: but F. I. could not be mery, as one that estemed the preseruation of his Mistresse honor no lesse then the obtayning of his owne delightes: and yet to auoyde fur­ther suspicion, he repressed his passions, asmuch as hée could. The Lady Elynor more carelesse then consideratiue of hir owne case, pricking forwardes said softly to F. I. I had thought you had receiued small cause seruaunt to bée thus dumpish, when I would be mery. Alas déere Mi­stresse quod F. I. it is altogether for your sake, that I am pensife: dame Fraunces with curtesie withdrewe hir sel [...]e and gaue them leaue when as F. I. declared vnto his Mi­stresse, that his sword was taken out of his chamber, and that he dreaded much by the wordes of the Lady Fraunces, that she had some vnderstanding of the matter. Dame E­lynor now calling to remembraunce what had passed the same night, at the first was abashed, but immediatly (for these women be redely wyt [...]ed) chered hir seruaunt, and willed him to commit vnto hir the saluing of that s [...]re. Thus they passed the rest of the waye in pleasaunt talke with dame Fraunces, and so returned towards the Castle where F. I. suffered the two dames to go together, and he alone vnto his chamber to bewayle his owne misgo­uernement. But dame Elynor (whether it wer according to olde custome, or by wylie pollicie) found meane that night, y^• the sword was conueyed out of Mistres Fraun­ces chamber and brought vnto hirs and after redeliuerie of it vnto F. I. she warned him to be more wary from that time forthwards: well I dwell too long vppon these particular poynts in discoursing this trif [...]ing history, but [Page 242] that the same is the more apte meane of introduction to y^• verses, which I meane to reherse vnto you, and I think you wil not disdaine to read my conceipt with his inuen­tion about declaration of his commedie. The next that e­uer F. I. wrote thē, vpon any aduēture hapned betwene him and this fayre Lady, was this as I haue heard him say, and vppon this occasion. After he grew more bold & better acquaynted with his Mistresse disposition, he ad­uentured one Fryday in the morning to go vnto hir chā ­ber, and theruppon wrote as followeth: which he termed a Frydayes Breakefast.

G. T.

THis Sonet is short and swéete, reasonably well, ac­cording to the occasion &c. Many dayes passed these two louers with great delight, their affayres being no lesse politikely gouerned, than happely atchiued. And surely I haue heard F. I. affirme in sad earnest, that hée did not onely loue hir, but was furthermore so rauished in Extasies with continual remembrance of his delights, [Page 243] that he made an Idoll of hir in his inward conceypte. So séemeth it by this challenge to beautie, which he wrote in hir prayse and vppon hir name.

G. T.

BY this challenge I gesse, that either hée was than in an [...] els sure I am now in a lunacie, for it is▪ a prou [...] challenge made to Beautie hir selfe, and all hir companyons and ymag [...]ing that Beautie hauing a shop where she vtt [...] hir wares of all sundry sortes, his La­die had stollen the fyne [...]away, leauing none behind hir, but paynting, bolstring, forcing and such like the which in his rage he iudgeth good ynough to serue the Courte: and theruppon grew a great quarrell. When these ver­ses were by the negligence of his Mistresse dispersed in­to sundry hands, and so at last to the reading of a Courti­er. Well F. I. had his desire if his Mistresse lyked them, but as I haue heard him declare, she grew in ieolosie, that the same were not written by hir, because hir name was Elynor and not Hellen. And about this poynt haue bene diuers and sundry opinions, for this and diuers other of his most notable Poems, haue come to view of y^• world, althogh altogether w^tout his cōsent. And some haue attri­buted this prayse vnto a Hellen, who deserued not so well as this dame Elynor should séeme to deserue by the relati­on of F. I. and yet neuer a ba [...]ell of good herring betwene them both▪ But that other Hellen, bycause she was and is of so base condicion, as may deserue no maner commen­dacion in any honest iudgement, therfore I will excuse my friend F. I. and aduenture my penne in his behalfe, that he would neuer bestow verse of so meane a subiect. An [...] yet some of his acquayntance, being also acquainted (better then I,) that F. I. was sometimes acquaynted [Page 245] with Hellene, haue stoode▪ in argument with mée, that it was written by Hellene and not by Elynor. Well F. I. tolde me himselfe that it was written by this dame Ely­no [...], and that vnto hir he thus alleged, that he toke it all for one [...], or at least he neuer red of any Elinor such matter as might sound worthy like commendation for beautie. And in deede, considering that it was in the fi [...]st beginning of his writings, as then he was no writer of any long continuaunce comparing also the time that such reportes do spread of his acquayntaunce with Hellene▪ it ca [...]not be written lesse then sixe or seuen yeres before he knew Hell [...]ne: mary paraduenture if there were any ac­quayntance betwene F. I. and that Hellene afterwardes, (the which I dare no [...] confesse) he might adapt it to hir name, and so make it serue both their turnes, as elder lou [...]rs haue done before and still do and will do worlde without end A [...]en▪ Well by whom he wrote it I know not, but once I am sure that he wrote it, for he is no bor­rower of inue [...]tiōs▪ and this is al that I meane to proue, as one that sende you his verses by stealth, and do him double wrong, to disclose vnto any man the secrete causes why they were deuised, but this for your delight I do ad­uenture and to returne to the purpose, he sought more certaynely to please his Mistresse Elynor with this Sonet written in hir prayse as followeth.

G. T.

OF this Sonet I am assured that it is but a t [...]ansla­tion, for I my selfe haue séene the inuention of an I­talian, and Master I. hath a little dylated the same, but not much besides the sence of the first, and the addicion very aptly applied: wherfore I cannot condempne his do­ing therin, and for the Sonet, were it not a little to much prayse (as the Italians do most commonly offend in the superlatiue) I could the more commend it: but I hope the partie to whom it was dedicated, had rather it were much more, than any thing lesse. Well, thus these two Louers passed many dayes in exceding contentation▪ [...] more than speakeable pleasures, in which time F. I. did compyle ve­ry many verses according to sundrie occasions proffred, whereof I haue not obteyned the most at his handes▪ and the reason that he denied me the same, was that (as he al­leged) they were for the most part sauced with a taste of glory, as you know that in such cases a louer being char­ged with ine [...]priuable ioyes, and therewith enioyned both by dutie and discretion to kepe the same couert, can by no meanes deuise a greater consolation, than to com­mit it into some cyphred wordes and figured spéeches in verse, whereby he féeleth his harte halfe (or more than halfe) eased of swelling. For as sighes are some present ease to the pensife mind, euen so we find by experience, that such secrete entre comoning of ioyes doth encrease delight. I would not haue you conster my wordes to this [...]ffecte, that I thinke a man cannot sufficiently reioyce in [Page 247] the luckie lottes of loue, vnlesse he empart the same to others: God forbid that euer I should enter into such a [...] heresie, for I haue alwayes bene of this opinion, that as to be fortunate in loue, is one of the most inward conten­tatious to mans mynde of all earthly ioyes: euen so if hée do but once bewray y^• same to any liuing creature, imem­diatlye eyther dread of discouering doth bruse his brest with an intollerable burden, or els he léeseth the princi­pall vertue which gaue effecte to his gladnes, not vnlike to a Potycaries pot which being filled with swéete oynt­mentes or parfumes, doth reteyne in it selfe some sent of the same, and being powred out doth returne to the former state, hard, harshe, and of small sauour: So the minde being fraught with delightes, as long as it can kepe them secretly enclosed, may continually féede vppon the pleasaunt record thereof as the well willing and rea­die horse byteth on the brydle, but hauing once disclosed them to any other, strayghtway we loose the hidden trea­sure of the same, and are oppressed with sundry doubtfull opinions and dreadfull conceipts. And yet for a man to record vnto him selfe in the inward contemplation of his mynde the often remembrance of his late receiued ioyes, doth as it were ease the hart of burden, and ad vnto the mynd a fresh supplie of delight, yea and in verse princi­pally (as I conceyue) a man may best contriue this way of comforte in him selfe. Therfore as I haue sayde F. I. swymming now in delightes did nothing but write such verse as might accumilate his ioyes, to the extremitie of pleasure, the which for that purpose he kept from mée, as one more desirous to séeme obscure and defectiue, than ouermuch to glory in his aduentures, especially for that in the end his hap was as heauie, has hitherto he had bene fortunate, amongst other I remembred one hapned vppon this occasion. The husband of the Lady Elynor be­being all this while absent from hir, gan now retorne, & [Page 248] kept Cut at home, with whom F.I. found meanes so to ensignuate himselfe, that familiaritie tooke déepe [...]oot [...] betwene them, and seldome but by [...]elth you could [...]nde the one out of the others company. On a tyme the knight ryding on hunting desired F. I. to accompany him, the which he could not refuse to do, but like a lusty younker, readie at all assayes, apparrelled him selfe in gréene, and about his neck a Bugle, pricking & gallowping amongst the formost, according to the mannor of that countrie. And it chaūced that the maried Knight thus gallowping lost his horn, which some deuines might haue interpreted to be but moulting, & that by Gods grace, he might haue a newe come vp againe shortly in stéede of that. Wel, he came to F. I. requiring him to lend him his▪ Beugle, for (sayd the Knight) I hard you not blowe this daye, and I would fayne encourage the houndes, if I had a horne. Quod F. I. although I haue not ben ouer lauishe of my comming hitherto, I woulde you shoulde not doubt but that I can tell howe to vse a horne well enough, and yet I may little do if I maye not lende you a horne, and therewithall tooke his Beugle from his necke, and lent it to the Knight, who making in vnto the houndes, gan assaye to rechate: but the horne was to hard for him to wynde, whereat F. I. tooke pleasure, and sayde to him selfe, blowe tyll thou breake that: I made thee one with in these fewe dayes, that thou wilt neuer cracke whiles thou liuest. And hereupon (before the fal of the Buck) de­uised this Sonet following, which at his home comming he presented vnto his mistresse.

G. T.

THis Sonet treateth of a straung séede, but it tasteth most of Rye, which is more cōmon amongst mē nowadays: wel let it passe amōgst y^• rest, & he that liketh it not, turn ouer y^• leaf to another, I dout not but in this register he may find some to content him, vnlesse he be to curious: and here I will surcease to rehearse any more of his ver­ses, vntill I haue expressed how that his ioyes being now exalted to the highest degrée, began to bend towardes de­clination. For now the vnhappy Secretary whom I haue before remembred, was returned from London, on whō F.I. had no sooner cast his eyes, but immediatly he fel in­to a great passion of mynd, which might be compared vn­to a feauer. This fruit grew of the good instructions that his Hope had planted in his mind, whereby I might take iust occasion to forwarn euery louer, how they suffer this venemous serpent ielousie to créepe into their conceipts: for surely, of all other diseases in loue, I suppose that to be vncurable, and would hold longer discourse therin, were [Page 250] it not that both this tale and the verses of F. I. himselfe hereafter to be recited, shalbe sufficient to speak for me in this behalf. The louer (as I say vpon the sodein) was dro­uen into such a malladie, as no meate might nourish his body, no delights please his minde, no remembrance of ioyes forepassed content him, nor any hope of the lyke to come might recomfort him: hereat (some vnto whom I haue imparted this tale) haue takē occasion to discōmend his faynting hart, yit surely the cause inwardly, & depely considered, I cannot so lightly condempne him, for an old saying is, that euery man can giue councell better than follow it: and néeds must the conflicts of his thoughts be straunge, betwene the remembraunce of his forepassed pleasure, and the present sight of this monster whom be­fore (for lack of like instruction) he had not so throughly marked and beh [...]l [...]. Well, such was the grief vnto him, that he became sickly and kept his chamber. The Ladies hauing receyued the newes therof, gan al at once lament his misfortun, and of common consent agréed to visit him: they marched thither in good equipage, I warrant you, and found F. I. lying vpon his bed languishing, whō they all saluted generally, and sought to recomforte, but espe­cially his Mistresse, hauing in hir hand a braunch of wil­low, wherewith thée defended hir from the whot ayre, gā thus say vnto him: Seruaunt (quod she) for that I sup­pose your mallady to procéede of none other cause but on­ly slouthfulnesse, I haue brought this preaty rod to beate you a little: nothing doubting, but when you féele the smart of a twig or twayne, you will like a tractable yong scholler, pluck vp your quickned spirits, & cast this drow­sines apart. F. I. with a great sighe answered: Alas good Mistres (quod he) if any like chastisement might quicken me, how m [...]ch more might the presence of all you louely Dames? recomfort my dulled mynd whō to behold▪ were sufficien [...] to reuiue an eye now dazled with the dread of [Page 251] death, and that not onely for the heauenly aspectes which you represent, but also much the more for your excéeding curtesie, in that you haue deigned to visit mée so vnwor­thy a seruaunt: But good Mistres (quod he) as it were shame for me to confesse that euer my hart could yéelde for feare, so I assure you that my minde cannot be con­tent to induce infirmitie by sluggish conceyt: But in trueth Mistresse I am sicke (quod he), and there withall the trembling of his hart had sent vp such throbbing into his throte, as that his voyce (now depriued of breath) cō ­maunded the tong to be still. When Dame Elynor for compassion distilled into teares, and drew towards the window, leauing the other Gentlewomē about his bed, who beinge no lesse sory for his grief, yit for that they were none of them so touched in their secrete thoughtes, they had bolder sprits and fréeer spéech to recomfort him: amongest the rest the Lady Fraunces, (who in deede loued him déepely, and could best coniecture the cause of his cō ­ceipts) said vnto him: Good Trust (quod shée) if any helpe of Phisick may cure your maladie, I would not haue you hurt your selfe with these doubts which you séeme to re­tayne: If choice of Dyet may helpe, behold vs here (your cookes) ready to minister all things néedfull: if company may dryue away your anoye, wee meane not to leaue you solitary: if grief of mynde be cause of your infirmitie, wée all here will offer our deuoyre to turne it into ioye: if mishap haue giuen you cause to feare or dreade any thing, remember Hope, which neuer fayleth to recom­fort an afflicted mind. And good Trust (quod she) (dis [...] rei­ning his hand right hartely) let this simple profe of our poore good willes be so accepted of you, as that [...]t may work therby the effect of our desires. F. I. (as one in a traunce) had marked very litle of hir curteouse talke, and yet gaue hir thanks, and so held his peace: whereat the [Page 252] Ladies (being all amazed) there became a silence in the chamber on all sides. Dame Elynor fearing thereby that she might the more easely be espyed, and hauing nowe dryed vp hir teares, returned to F. I. recomforting him by al possible meanes of common curtesie, promising that since in hir sicknes he had not only staūched hir bléeding, but also by his gentle company and sundry deuices of ho­nest pastime had dryuē away the pensiuenes of hir mind, she thought hir selfe bound with like willingnes to do hir best in any thing that might restore his health? and ta­king him by the hand sayd further: Good seruaunt, if thou beare in déed any true affection to thy poore Mistres, start vpon thy féet agayn, and let hir enioye thyne accustomed seruice to hir comfort, for sure (quod shée) I will neuer leaue to visite this chamber once in a day, vntill I may haue thée down with mée. F. I. hearing the harty words of his Mistres, and perceyuing the earnest maner of hir pronunciation, began to receyue vnspeakable comfort in the same, and sayde. Mistres, your excéeding curtesie were able to reuiue a man half dead, and to me it is both great comfort, and it doth also gald my remembraunce with a continuall smart of myn own vnworthinesse: but as I would desire no longer lyfe, than til I might be able to deserue some part of your bounty, so I will ende [...]our my selfe to liue, were it but onely vnto that ende, that I might merit some part of your fauour with acceptable seruice, and requite some deale the courtesie of all these other faire Ladies, who haue so farre (aboue my desertes) deigned to do me good. Thus said, the Ladies tarried not long before they were called to Euensong, when his Mi­stres taking his hand, kissed it saying: Farewell good ser­uaunt, and I pray thée suffer not the malice of thy sick­nesse to ouercome the gentlenes of thy good hart. F.I. ra­uished with ioy, suffered them all to depart, and was not [Page 253] able to pronounce one word. After their departure, hée gan cast in his mind the excéeding curtesie vsed towards him by them all: but aboue all other the bounty of his Mistresse, and therewithall tooke a sounde and firme opi­nion, that it was not possible for hir to coūterfeit so déep­ly (as in déed I beléeue that she then did not) whereby he sodenly felt his hart greatly eased, and began in himselfe thus to reason. Was euer man of so wretched a harte? I am the most bounden to loue (quod he) of all them that euer professed his seruice, I enioy one the fayrest that e­uer was found, and I find hir the kindest that euer was heard of: yit in myne owne wicked hart I could villay­nously conceiue that of hir, which being compared with the rest of hir vertues is not possible to harbour in so no­ble a mind. Hereby I haue brought my self without cause into this féeblenes, and good reason that for so high an offence I should be punished with great infirmitie: what shall I then doe? yéeld to the same? no, but according to my late protestation I will recomfort this languishing mind of myne, to the end I may liue but onely to doe pe­naunce for this so notable a crime so rashly committed: and thus saying, he start from his bed, and gan to walke towards the window: but the venimous serpent which (as before I rehearsed) had stong him, could not bee con­tent that these medicines applied by the mouth of his gentle Mistresse, should so soone restore him to guerison. And although in déed they were such Mythrydate to F. I. as that they had nowe expelled the rancour of the poy­son, yit that ougly hellish monster had left behinde hir in the most secret of his bosome, (euen betwene the mynd and the man) one of hir familiars named Suspect, which gan work in the weake sprites of F. I. efects of no lesse perill than before hée had conceyued: his head swelling with these troublesome toyes, and his hart swimming in the tempests of tossing fantasie: he felt his legges so fée­ble, [Page 254] that he was cōstrained to lye down on his bed again, and repeating in his own remembraunce euery woord that his Mistres had spoken vnto him, he gan to dreade, that she had brought the willow braunce to beate him with, in token that he was of hir forsaken: for so louers doe most commonly expound the will [...] we garland, and this to think, did cut his hart in twayne. A wonderfull chaunge: and here a little to stay you, I will discribe (for I think you haue not red it in Ariosto) the beginning, the fall, the retourne, and the bying of this hellish byrd, who in déed may well be counted a very limbe of the Di­uill. Many yeares since, one of the most dreadful dastards in the world, and one of them that first deuised to weare his beard at length, least the barbor might do him a good turne sooner than he looked for it, and yit not so soone as he deserued, had builded for his securitie a pile on the hy­ghest and most inaccessible mount of all his Territories: the which being fortified with strong walles, and enui­roned with déepe ditches, had no place of entrie, but one onely doore so streight and narrow, as might by any pos­sibility receiue the body of one liuing man, from which he ascended vp a ladder, & so créeping thorough a maruelous strayt hole, attained to his lodging, y^• which was so dark & obscure, as scarcely either sunne or ayre could enter into it: thus hee deuised to lodge in safetie, and for the more suertie gan trust none other letting downe this ladder but only his wife, and at the foote therof kept alwaies by day light, a firce masti [...] close enkeneled which neuer sawe nor heard the face or voyce of any other creature but onely of them two, him by night he trusted with the scout of this prety passage, hauing neuerthelesse betwene him and this dogge, a double doore with treble locks, qua­driple barres: and before all a port coulez of Iron: ney­ther yit could he be so hardy as to sléep vntil he had caused a gard of seruauntes (whome hée kept abroade for that purpose) to searche all the corners adioyning to his for­tresse, [Page 255] and then betwene fearfull sweate and chyuering cold, with one eye open and the other closed, he stole som­times a broken sléepe, deuided with many terrible drea­m [...]s. In this sort the wretch liued all to long, vntill at last his wife being not able any longer to supporte this hellish life, grew so hardy, as with his owne knife to dis­patch his carkas out of this earthly purgatory: the which being done his soule (and good reason) was quickly con­ueyed by Carone vnto hell: there Radamanthus Iudge of that benche, commaunded him quickly to be thrust into a boyling poole: and being therein plonged very often, he neuer shriked or cryed, I skalde, as his other compani­ons there cried, but séemed so lightly to estéeme it, that the Iudge thought méete to condempne him vnto the most terrible place, where are such torments, as ney­ther penne can write, tongue expresse, or thought con­ceyue: but the myser (euen there) seemed to smyle and to make small accompt of his punishment. Radamanthus hereof enformed▪ sent for him, and demaunded the cause why he made so light of his durance? he aunswered that whyles he liued on earth, he was so continually afflicted and oppressed with suspicion, as that now (only to thinke that he was out of those meditacions) was sufficient ar­mour to defend him from all other torments. Radaman­thus a [...]onied hereat, gan call togither the Senators of that kingdome, and propounded this question, how & by what punishement they might deuise to touche him ac­cording to his deserts? and herupō fell great disputation, at last being cōsidered that he had already bin plonged in the most vnspeakable torments, & therat litle or nothing had chaunged coūtenāce, therwithall y^• no soule was sent vnto thē to be relieued of his smart, but rather to be punished for his former delights: it was cōcluded by y^• general ceūcel, y^t he shold be eftsones sent into y^• world & restored to the same body wherein he first had his resiance, so to remain for perpetuity, and neuer to depart nor to perish. [Page 256] Thus this body and soule being once againe vnited, and now eftsones with the same pestilence infected, hée be­came of a suspicious man Suspicion it selfe: and now the wretch remembring the treason of his wyfe, who had so willingly dispatched him once before, gan vtterly abhor hir and fled hir company, searching in all countries some place of better assurance: and when hée had in vayn trode on the most part of the earth, he embarked himself to find some vnknowen Iland wherein hée might frame s [...]me new habitacion, and finding none so commodious as hée desired, he fortuned (sayling along by the shoare) to espie a rock, more than sixe hundreth Cubits high, which hong so suspiciously ouer the seas, as though it would threaten to fall at euery little blast: this did Suspicion Imagine to be a fit foundacion whereon he might buyld his second Bower: hée forsooke his boate, and trauayled by land to espie what entrie or accesse might be made vnto y^• same, and found from land no maner of entrie or accesse, vn­lesse it were that some curteouse Byrd of the ayre would be Ambassadour, or conuey some Engins, as whilom the Eagle did carrie Ganymedes into heauen. He then retur­ned to Seas, and approching néere to his rock, founde a small streame of fresh water issuing out of the same into the Seas: the which, although it were so little and so straight, as might vnethes receiue a boate of bignes to carry one liuing creature at once, yit in his conceipt hée thought it more large and spacious than that broad way called of our forefathers Via appia, or than that other na­med Flaminia: hée abandoned his bark, and putting of hys clothes, aduētured (for he was now assured not to drown) to wade and swim against the streame of this vnknown brooke, the which (a wondrous thing to tell, and skarcely to be beléeued) came down from the very top and height of this rock: and by the way he found six straight & dan­gerous places, wher the water séemed to stay his course, [Page 257] passing vnder sixe straight and lowe bridges, and hard by euery of those places, a pyle raysed vp in manner of a Bulworke, the which were hollow, in such sort as lodg­inges and other places necessary might in them commo­diously be deuised, by such one as coulde endure the hel­lishnes of the place. Passing by these hée attayned with much payne vnto the toppe of the Rocke, the which hée found hollowed as the rest, and farre more fit for his se­curitie, than otherwise apt for any cōmoditie. There gan suspicion determyne to nestle him selfe, and hauing now placed six chosen porters, to wit, (Dread, Mistrust, Wrath, Desperation, Frensie, and Fury:) at these six straunge Bul­works, he lodged him self in y^e vij. al alone, for he trusted no companye, but euer mistrustinge that his wyfe should eftsones find him out, therein he shrieketh conti­nually like to a shrich owle to keepe the watch waking, neuer content to sléepe by day or by night. But to be sure that he shoulde not ouer sléepe him selfe, gan stuffe his [...]ouch with Porpentines quilles, to the ende that when heauy sleepe ouercame him, and he therby should be con­strayned to charge his pallad with more heauie burden, those plumes might then pricke through and so awake him. His garments were stéele vpon Iron, and that Iron vppon Iron, and Iron againe, and the more he was ar­med, the lesse he trusted to be out of daunger. He chopped and changed continually now this, now that, new keyes, new lockes, ditches newe skowred, and walles newly fortified, and thus alwayes vncontented liueth this wret­ched helhound Suspicion in this hellish dungion of habita­tion, from whence he neuer remoueth his foote, but only in the dead & silent nights, when he may be assured that all creatures (but him selfe) are whelmed in sound sléepe. And then with stealing steps he stalketh about the earth, enfecting, tormēting, and ve [...]ing al kinds of people with some part of his afflictions, but especially such as either [Page 258] do sit in chayre of greatest dignitie and estimation, or els such as haue atchiued some déere and rare emprise: Those aboue al others he contynually galdeth with fresh woūds of dread, least they might loose and forgo the roomes wherunto with such long trauayle and good happes they had atteyned, and by this meanes percase he had crept into the bosome of F.I. who (as is before declared) did earst swimme in the déepest seas of earthly delightes. Nowe then I must thinke it high time to retorne vnto him, who being now through feeblenes eftsones cast downe vppon his be [...], gan cast in his inward meditations all thinges passed, and as one throughly puffed vp and filled with one péeuishe conceipt, could thinke vppon nothing elles, and yet accusing his owne giltie conscience to be infected with ielosie, did compyle this translation of Ariostoes xxxi. song as followeth.

THis is the translation of Ariosto his xxxj. song, all but the last staffe, which séemeth as an allegory applied to the rest. It will please none but learned eares, hée was tyed to the inuention, troubled in mynd &c. So I leaue it to your iudgment, and returne to F.I. who continued on his bed, vntill his bountifull Mistresse with the compa­nie of the other curteous dames retorned after supper to his chamber, at their first entrie: Why how now seruāt (quod dame Elynor) we hoped to haue found you on foote? Mistresse quod F.I. I haue assayed my féete since your de­parture, but I find them yet vnable to suporte my heauy body, and therfore am constrayned as you sée, to acquaint my selfe with these pyllowes. Seruaunt sayd she I am right sory therof, but since it is of necessitie to beare sick­nesse, I will employ my deuoyre to allaye some parte of your paynes, and to refreshe your weary limbes with some comfortable matter: and therwithall calling hir handmayde, deliuered vnto hir a bounche of pretie little keyes, and whispering in hir eare, dispatched hir towards hir chamber. The mayde taried not long, but returned with a little Casket, the which hir Mistresse toke, opened and drew out of the same much fyne lynnen, amongst the which she toke a pillowhere very fyne and swéete, which although it were of it selfe as swéete as might be, being of long time kept in that odoriferous chest, yet did shée with damaske water (and that the best that might bée I warrant you) all to sprinckle it with hir owne handes, which in my conceipt might much amende the matter. Then calling for a fresh pyllowe, sent hir mayde to ayre the same, and at hir returne put on this, thus perfumed pillowheare. In meane time also she had with hir owne hands attyred hir seruants head in a fayre wrought ker­chif taken out of the same Casket, then layde him downe vppon this fresh and pleasaunt place, and pretely as it were in sporte, bedewed his temples with swéete [Page 261] water which she had ready in a casting bottle of Gold, kissing his chéeke and saying: Good seruaunt be whole, for I might not longe endure thus to attende thée, and yit the loue that I beare towards thée, cannot be con­tent to see thée languish: Mistres sayd F.I. (and that with a trembling voyce) assure your self, that if there remayn in mée any sparke of lyfe or possibilitie of recouery, then may this excellent bountie of yours be sufficient to re­uiue me without any further trauayle or payn vnto your persone, for whom I am highly to blame, in that I do not spare to put you vnto this trouble: and better if were that such a wretch as I had dyed vnknowen, than thay by your exceding curtesie you should fall into any mallady, eyther by resorting vnto me, or by these your paynes ta­ken about me. Seruaunt (quod she) all pleasures séeme paynefull to them that take no delight therin, and like­wise all toyle séemeth pleasaunt to such as set their felici­tie in the same, but for mee be you sure, I do it with so good a wyll that I can take no hurt therby, vnlesse I shall perceyue that it be reiected or neglected, as vnprofitable or vncomfortable vnto you. To me Mistresse quod F.I. it is such pleasure, as neither my féeble tongue can expresse, nor my troubled mind conceyue. Why? are you troubled in mynd then seruaunt quod dame Elynor? F.I now blu­shing answered, but euen as all sicke men be Mistresse. Herewith they staid their talke a while, and the first that brake silence was the Lady Fraunces, who sayde: and to driue away the troubles of your mynd good Trust, I wold be glad if we could deuise some pastime amongst vs to kepe you company, for I remember that with such deui­ses you did greatly recomfort this fayre Lady when shée languished in like sorte. She languished in déede gentle Hope, quod F.I. but God forbid that she had languished in like sort. Euery body thinketh their griefe greatest qd dame Elynor, but in déede whether my griefe were the [Page 262] more or the lesse, I am right sorie that youres is such as it is: And to assay whither our passions proceded of like cause or not, I would we could (according to this Ladies saying) deuise some like pastimes to trie if your malladie would be cured with like medicines. A gentle woman of the company whom I haue not hitherto named, and that for good respects, least hir name might altogether disclose the rest, gan thus propound. We haue accustomed (quod she) heretofore in most of our games to chuse a Kyng or Quéene, and he or she during their gouernement haue charged euery of vs eyther with commaundementes or questions as best séemed to their maiestie: wherein to speake mine opinion we haue giuen ouer large a skope, neyther séemeth it reasonable that one shoulde haue the power to discouer the thoughts▪ or at least to brydle the affects of all the rest. And though in déede in questioning (which doth of the twayne more nerely touche the mind) euery one is at free libertie to aunswere what they list: yet oft haue I heard a question demaunded in such sorte, and vppon such sodayne, that it hath bene hardly answe­red without mouing matter of contention. And in com­maundes also, sometimes it happeneth one to bée com­maunded vnto such seruice, as eyther they are vnfit to accomplish (and then the parties weakenes is therby de­tected) or els to do something that they would not, wher­of ensueth more grutch then game. Wherefore in myne opinion, we shall do well to chuse by lot amongst vs a go­uernour, who for that it shalbe sufficient preheminence to vse the chayre of maiestie, shalbe boūd to giue sentence vppon all such arguments and questions as we shall or­derly propound vnto them, and from him or hir (as from an oracle) we will receiue aunswere, and decyding of our lytigious causes. This dame had stuffe in hir, an old cour­tier, and a wylie wench, whome for this discourse I will name Pergo, least hir name natural were to brode before, [Page 263] and might not drinke of all waters. Wel this proportion of Pergo pleased them wel, and by lot it happened that F.I. must be moderator of these matters, and collector of these causes: the which being so constituted, the Lady Elynor said vnto this dame Pergo. You haue deuised this pastime (qd she) & because we thinke you to be most expert in the handling therof, do you propound the first question, & we shalbe both the more readye and able to followe your example: the Lady Pergo refused not, but began on this wise. Noble gouernor (qd she) amongst the aduentures that haue befallen me, I remember especially this one, that in youth it was my chaunce to be beloued of a very courtlike young gentleman, who abode neare the place wherin my parents had their restaunce. This gentleman whether it were for beauty▪ or for any other respect that he sawe in me, I know not, but he was enamored of me, & that with an exceding vehement passion, & of such force were his affects, that notwistāding many repulses which he had receiued at my hands, he séemed dayly to growe in the renewing of his desires. I on the otherside, although I could by no meanes mislike of him by any good reason, considering that hée was of byrth no waye inferior vnto me, of possessions not to bée disdeyned, of parson right comely, of behauyour Courtly, of manners modest, of mynde lyberall, and of verteous disposition: yet such was the gaitie of my mynd, as that I coulde not be con­tent to lend him ouer large thongs of my loue, but al­wayes daungerously behaued my selfe towardes him, and in such sorte, as hée coulde neyther take comforte of myne aunsweres, nor yet once finde him selfe requited with one good looke for all his trauayle. This notwith­standing, the worthy Knigh [...] continued his sute wyth no lesse vehement affection than earst hée hadde begone it, euen by the space of seuen yeares. At the last, whe­ther discomfited by my dealinges, or tyred by long tra­uayle, [Page 264] or that he had percase light vppon the lake that is in the forrest of Ardena, and so in haste and all thristie, had dronke some droppes of disdayne, whereby his hot flames were quenched, or that he had vndertaken to serue no longer but his iust terme of apprenticehode, or that the téeth of time had gnawen and tyred his dulled sprites in such sorte, as that all béenommed hée was con­strayned to vse some other artificial balme for the quick­ning of his sences, or by what cause moued I know not, he did not onely leaue his long continued sute, but (as I haue since perceyed) grew to hate me more deadly than before I had disdayned him. At the first beginning of his retyre I perceiued not his hatred, but imagined that be­ing ouer wearied he had withdrawen him self for a time. And considring his worthynes, therwithall his constan­cie of long time proued, I thought that I could not in the whole world find out a fitter match to bestowe my selfe, than on so worthy a person, wherefore I did by all possi­ble meanes procure that he might eftsones vse his accu­stomed repayre vnto my parents: And further, in all pla­ces where I happened to méete him, I vsed all the curte­s [...]es towardes him that might bée contayned within the bondes of modestie, but al was in vayne, for he was now become more daungerous to be wonne, than the haggard Faulcon. Our lottes being thus vnluckely chaunged, I grewe to burne in desire, and the more daungerous that he shewed him selfe vnto me, the more earnest I was by all meanes to procure his consent of loue. At the last I might perceiue that not onely he disdayned me, but as me thought boyled in hatred against me: and the time that I thus continued tormented with these thoughts, was also iust the space of seuen yeares. Finally when I perceiued no remedie for my parplexities, I assayed by absence to weare away this malladie, and therfore vtterly refused to come in his presence, yea or almost in any other com­pany, [Page 265] whereby I haue consumed in lost time the flower of my youth, and am become as you sée (what with yea­res, and what with the tormēting passions of loue) pale, wan, and full of wrinkles, neuerthelesse, I haue therby gayned thus much, that at last I haue wond my self cléere out of Cupids cheines, and remain carelesse at libertie.

Now marke to what end I tell you this: first vii. yeares passed in the which I could neuer be content to yéeld vnto his iust desires: next other vii. yeares I spent in séeking to recouer his lost loue: and sithens both those vii. yeares, there are euen now on saint Valentines day last, other vii. yeares passed, in the which (neither I haue desired to sée him) nor he hath coueted to heare of me. My parents now perceiuing how the crowes foot is crept vnder myne eye, and remembring the long sute that this gentlemā had in youth spent on me, considering therewithall that gréene youth is well mellowed in vs both, haue of late sought to perswade a marriage betwene vs, the which the Knight hath not refused to heare of, and I haue not disdained to thinke on: by their mediation we haue bin eftsoones brought to Parlee, wherein ouer and besides the ripping vp of many old griefes, this hath ben chiefly rehearsed & obiected betwene vs, what wrong and iniury eche of vs hath done to other, and hereabouts wée haue fallen to sharpe contention: he alledged, that much greater is the wrong which I haue done vnto him, than that repulse which hée hath sithens vsed to me: and I haue affirmed the contrary, the matter yit hangeth in variance. Nowe, of you worthy Gouernour I would be most glad to heare this question decided, remembring that ther was no dif­ference in the times betwene vs: and surely, vnles your iudgement helpe me, I am afraide my marriage wilbe marred, and I may goe lead Apes in hell. F. I. aunswe­red, good Pergo, I am sory to heare so lamentable a dis­course of your luckles loue, and much the sorier, in that I [Page 266] must néedes giue sentence against you: for surely great was the wrong that either of you haue done to other, and greater was the néedelesse grief which causelesse eche of you hath conceiued in this long time, but greatest in my iudgement hath ben both the wrong and the grief of the Knight, in that notwithstanding his deserts (which your self confesse) he neuer enioyed any guerdone of loue at your handes: And you (as you alledge) did enioy his loue of long time togither, so that by the reckoning, it will fall out (although being blinded in your owne conceypt) you sée it not, that of the one & twenty yeares you enioyed his loue vii. at the least, but that euer he enioyed yours wee cannot perceiue. And much greater is the wrong that re­wardeth euill for good, than that which requireth tip for tap: further, it séemed that where as you went about in time to trie him, you did altogither loose time which can neuer be recouered: and not onely lost your owne time, whereof you would séeme now to lament, but also com­pelled him to leese his time, which he might (be it spoken without offence to you) haue bestowed in some other worthy place: and therefore, as that grief is much grea­ter which hath no kind of cōfort to allay it, so much more is that wrong which al [...]gither without cause is offered. And I (said Pergo) must néedes think, that much easier is it for them to endure grief which neuer tasted of ioy, and much lesse is that wrong which is so willingly profered to be by recompence restored: for if this Knight will con­fesse that he neuer had cause to reioice in all the time of his s [...]ruice, then with better cōtentation might he abyde grief than I, who hauing tasted of the delight which I did secretly cōceiue of his deserts, do think ech grief a present death by the remembrance of those forepassed thoughts: & lesse wrong séemeth it to be destitut of y^• thing which was neuer obteyned, than to be depriued of a iewell whereof we haue bin already possessed: so y^• vnder your correction [Page 267] I might cōclude, that greater hath bin my grief & iniury susteined, than that of the Knight. To whom F.I. replied, as touching delight, it may not be denied but that euery louer doth take delight in the inward cōtemplacion of his mind, to think of the worthines of his beloued, & therfore you may not alledge that the Knight had neuer cause to reioice, vnlesse you will altogither cōdempne your self of vnworthines: Mary if you will say that he tasted not the delights that louers séeke, then mark, who was the cause but your self? And if you would accuse him of like ingrati­tude, for that he disdained you in the latter vii. yeres, whē as he might by accepting your loue, haue recōpenced him self of all former wrongs you must remēber ther withal, that the crueltie by you shewed towards him was such, y^• could by no meanes perceiue that your chaūge procéeded of good will, but rather eftsones to hold him enchained in vnknown links of subtil dealings, & therfore not without cause he douted you: & yit without cause you reiected him. He had oftē sought occasion, but by your refusals he could neuer find him: you hauing occasiō fast by the foretop did dally with him so long, til at last he slipped his head from you, & then catching at the bald nodd [...]e, you foūd your self y^• cause, & yit you would accuse another. To cōclude, greater is the grief that is susteined without desert, and much more is the wrong that is offred without cause. Thus F. I. decided the question propounded by Pergo, & expected that some other Dame should propoūd another: but his mistres (hauing hir hand on another halfpeny) gan thus say vnto him. Seruant this pastime is good, and such as I must néeds like of, to driue away your pensiue thoughts: but sléeping time approcheth, & I feare we disquiet you, wherefore the rest of this time we will (if so like you) be­stowe in trimming vp your bed and to morrow we shall méete here and nenew this new begon game with Ma­dame Pergo. Mistres (qd F. I.) I must obey your will, and most humbly thanke you of your great goodnesse, and [Page 268] all these Ladies for their curtesie: Euen so, requiring you that you will no further trouble your selues about me, but let my seruaunt alone with conducting me to bed. Yes seruaunt (quod she) I wil sée if you can sléepe any bet­ter in my shéetes: and therewith commaunded hir hand­mayd to fetch a paire of cleane shéetes, the which béeing brought (maruailous fine and swéete) the Ladies Fraun­ces and Elyn [...]r did curteously vnfold them, and layd them on the bed, which done, they also entreated F. I. to vn­cloth him and go to bed: being layd, his Mistres dressed and couched the clothes about him, sithens moistened his temples with rosewater, gaue him handkerchewes and other fresh linnen about him, in dooing wherof, she whis­pered in his eare, saying: Seruaunt, this night I will bée with thée, and after with the rest of the Dames gaue him good night and departed, leauing F. I. in a traunce bet­wene hope and dispayre, trust and mistrust. Thus he lay rauished, commaunding his seruaunt to goe to bed, and fayning that himself would assay if he could sléepe. About ten or eleauē of the clock came his Mistresse in hir night gowne, who knowing all priuy wayes in that house ve­ry perfectly, had conueied hir self into F. I. chamber, vn­séene and vnperceyued, and being nowe come vnto his beds side knéeled down, and laying hir arme ouer him sayed these or like wordes: My good Seruaunt, if thou knewest what perplexiteis I suffer in beholding of thine infirmities, it might then suffise, eyther vtterly to dryue away thy mallady, or much more to augment thy griefs: for I know thou louest me, and I think also that thou hast had sufficient profe of myne vnfained good will, in re­membrance whereof, I fall into sundry passions: First, I compt the happy lots of our first acquaintance, and ther­in I call to mynde the equalitie of our affections, for I think that there were neuer two louers conioyned with fréeer consent on both parties: and if my ouerhasty deli­uery [Page 269] of yéelding words be not wrested hereafter to my condempnacion, I can then assure my self to escape for e­uer without desert of any reprofe: herewithall I can not forget the sundry aduentures happened since we became one hart deuided in two bodies, all which haue ben both happily atchieued, and delectably enioyed: what resteth then to consider but this thy present state? The first coro­siue that I haue felt, and the last cordiall that I looke for, the end of my ioyes, and the beginning of my torments, and hereat hir salt teares gan bathe the dying lips of hir seruaunt: who hearing these wordes, and well conside­ring hir demeanor, began now to accuse him selfe of such and so haynous treason, as that his gilty harte was con­streined to yéelde vnto a iust scourge for the same. Hée swooned vnder hir arme: the which when she perceyued, it were hard to tel what feares did most affright hir. But I haue heard my friend F. I. cōfesse, that he was in a hap­py traunce, and thought himself for diuers causes vnhap­pely reuiued. For surely I haue heard him affirme, that to dye in such a passion▪ had ben rather pleasant, than like to panges of death. It were hard now to rehearse how hée was reuiued, since there wer none present, but he dying, (who could not declare) & she liuing, whowold not disclose so much as I meane to bewray. For my friēd F.I. hath to me emported, that returning to life, the first thing which he felt, was that his good mistres lay pressing his brest w^t the whole weight of hir body, and biting his lips with hir friendly téeth: and peraduenture shée refrayned (either of curtesie towards him, or for womanish feare, to hurt hir tender hand) to strik him on the chéekes in such sorte, as they doe that striue to call agayne a dying creature: and therefore thought this the aptest meane to reduce him vnto remembrance. F.I. now awaked, could no lesse do, than of his curteous nature receyue his Mistresse into his bed: Who, as one that knew that waye better, than [Page 270] how to help his swooning, gan gently strip of hir clothes, and louingly embracing him, gan demaund of him in this sorte. Alas good Seruaunt (quod she) what kinde of ma­ladie is this that so extréemely doth torment thée? F.I. with faynting spéech aunswered: Mistresse, as for my ma­ladie, it hath ben easely cured by your bountifull medi­cines applied: But I must confesse, that in receiuing that guerison at your handes, I haue ben constreined to fall into an Extasie, through the galding remembrance of myne own vnworthines: Neuerthelesse good Mistresse, since I perceiue such fidelitie remayning betwene vs, as that fewe wordes will perswade such trust as louers ought to embrace, let these fewe wordes suffise to craue your pardon, and doe eftsoones powre vpon me (your vn­worthy seruaunt) the haboundant waues of your accusto­med clemency: for I must confesse, that I haue so highly offended you, as (but your goodnesse surpasse the malice of my conceipts) I must remayne (and that right woor­thely) to the seuere punishment of my desertes: and so should you but loose him who hath cast away him self, and neither can accuse you, nor dare excuse him selfe of the crime. Dame Elynor, who had rather haue found hir ser­uaunt perfectly reuiued, than thus with straunge con­ceipts encombred: and musing much at his darke spéech, became importunat to know y^• certainty of his thoughts. And F.I. as one not maister of him selfe, gan at the last playnly confesse howe he had mistrusted the chaunge of hir vowed affections: Yea and (that more was) he playn­ly expressed with whom, of whom, by whom, and too whom shée bent hir better liking.

Now, here I would demaund of you and such other as are expert: Is there any geater impediment to the fruition of a Louers delights, than to be mistrusted? or rather, is it not the ready way to race all loue and for­mer [Page 271] good will out of remembrance, to tell a gilty mynd that you doe mistrust it? It should séeme yes, by Dame Elynor, who began nowe to take the matter whottely, and of such vehemency were hir fancies, that shée nowe fell into flat defiance with F. I. who although hée sought by many faire wordes to temper hir chollerike passions, and by yeelding him selfe to [...]et the conquest of an other, yet could hée by no meanes determine the quarrell. The softe pillowes being present at all these whot wordes, put forth themselues as mediatours for a truce betwene these enemies, and desired that (if they would néedes fight) it might be in their presence but onely one pusshe of the pike, and so from thenceforth to become friends a­gain for euer. But the Dame denied flatly, alleadging that shée found no cause at all to vse such curtesie vnto such a re [...]reant, adding further many wordes of great reproche: the which did so encourage F. I. as that hauing now forgotten all former curtesies, he drewe vppon his new pr [...]fessed enimie, and bare hir vp with such a vio­lence against the bolster, that before shée could prepare the warde, he thrust hir through both hands, and &c. wherby the Dame swoning for feare, was constreyned (for a time) to abandon hir body to the enemies curtesie. At last when shée came to hir selfe, shée rose sodeinly and de­termined to saue hir selfe by flight, leauing F. I. with many dispytefull wordes, and swearing that hee should neuer (eftsoones) take hir at the like aduātage, the which othe she kept better than hir former professd good will: and hauing nowe recouered hir chamber (bicause shee founde hir hurt to be nothing daungerous) I doubt not, but shee slept quietly the rest of the night: As F. I. al­so perswading himselfe that hée should with conuenient leysure recouer hir from this hagger conceipt, tooke some better rest towardes the morning, than hee had done in many nights forepast. So let them both slèepe whyles [Page 272] I turne my penne vnto the before named Secretary, who being (as I sayd) come lately from London, had made many proffers to renew his accustomed consultations: but the sorrow which his Mistresse had conceyued in F.I. his sicknesse, togither with hir continuall repayre to him during the same, had ben such lettes vnto his attempts, at is was long time before he could obtayne audience.

At the last these newe accidentes fell so fauourably for the furtherance of his cause, that he came to his Mistresse presence, and there pleaded for himselfe. Nowe, if I should at large write his allegations, togither with hir subtile aunsweres, I should but comber your eares with vnpleasaunt rehearsall of feminine frayeltie.

To be short, the late disdayneful moode which she had cō ­ceyued against F.I. togither with a scrupule which lay in hir cōscience, touching the xi. article of hir beléeue, moued hir presently with better will to cōsult with this Secreta­ry, aswel vpon a spéedy reueng of hir late receiued wrōgs as also vpon the reformation of hir religion. And in very déed, it fell out that the Secretary hauing bin of long time absēt, & therby his quils & pēnes not worn so néer as they were wont to be, did now prick such faire large notes, y^• his Mistres liked better to sing faburden vnder him, thā to descant any longer vppon F. I. playne song: and thus they continued in good accorde, vntill it fortuned that Dame Fraunces came into hir chamber vppon such so­deyn as shée had like to haue marred all the musick. Wel thei cōueied their clifs as closely as they could, but yit not altogither w^tout some suspiciō giuen to y^• said dame Fraū ­ces, who although shée could baue bin content to take any payn in F.I. behalf, yit otherwise she would neuer haue bestowed the watching about so wortheles a prise. After womāly salutacions they fel into sundry discourses, y^• Se­cretaty stil abyding in y^• chāber with them. At last two or [Page 273] thrée other gentlewomē of the Castle came into Madam Elynors chamber, who after their Bon iour did all (vna voce) séeme to lament the sicknes of F.I. and called vpon the Dames Elinor and Fraunces, to go visite him againe. The Lady Fraunces curteously consented, but Madame Elinor first alledged that she hir selfe was also sickly, the which she attributed to hir late paynes taken about F. I. and sayd that onely for that cause she was constrayned to kepe hir bed longer than hir accustomed hower. The Dames (but especially the Lady Fraunces) gan streight waies coniecture some great cause of sodaine change, and so leauing dame Elynor, walked altogether into the parke to take the ayre of the morning: And as they thus walked it chaūced that Dame Pergo heard a Cuckoe chaunt, who (because the pride of the spring was now past) cried Cuck cuck Cuckoe in hir stameringe voyce. A ha (quod Pergo) this foule byrd begines to flye the countrie, and yet be­fore hir departure, sée how spitefully she can deuise to sa­lute vs. Not vs (quod Dame Fraunces) but some other whom she hath espyed: wherewith Dame Pergo looking round about hir, and espying none other company sayd. Why here is no body but we few womē qd she. Thanks be to God the house is not farre from vs (quod Dame Fraunces.) Here at the wylie Pergo partely perceyuing Dame Fraunces meaning replyed on this sort: I vnder­stand you not (quod she) but to leape out of this matter, shall we go visite Maister F. I. and sée how he doth this morning? Why quod dame Fraunces, do you suppose that the Cuckoe called vnto him? Nay marry quod Pergo, for (as farre as I know) he is not maried. As who should say (quod Dame Fraunces,) that the Cuckoe enuieth none but maryed folkes. I take it so sayd Pergo: the Lady Fraunces aunswered. Yes suer I haue noted as euill lucke in loue (after the cuckoes call) to haue happened vnto diuers vn­maried folkes, as euer I did vnto the maried: but I can [Page 274] be well content that we go vnto Master. I. for I promised on the behalfe of vs al, that we wold vse our best deuoyre to recomfort him vntill he had recouered health, and I do much meruayle that y^• Lady Elinor is now become so vn­willing to take any trauayle in his behalfe, especially re­membring that but yesternigh she was so diligent to bring him to bed, but I perceyue that all earthly thinges are subiect vnto change. Euen so they be quod Pergo, for you may behold the trées which but euen this other daye were clad in gladsome gréene, and now their leaues be­gin to fa [...]e and change colour. Thus they passed talk­ing and walking vntill they returned vnto the Castle, whereas they went straight vnto F.I. chamber, & found him in bed: why how now Trust (quod Dame Fraunces,) w [...]ll it be no better? Yes shortly I hope quod F.I. The Ladies all saluted him & he gaue them the gramercy: at the last Pergo popped this question vnto him. And howe haue you slept in your Mistres shéetes Master F. I. quod she? reasonable well quod F. I. but I pray you where is my Mistresse this morning? Mary sayd Pergo, wee left hir in bed scarce well at ease. I am the more sorye quod F. I. Why Trust (sayd Mistresse Fraunces) be of good com­forte, and assure your selfe that here are others who would be as glad of your wel doing, as your Mistresse in any respect. I ought not to doubt therof (quod F. I.) ha­uing the proofe that I haue had of your great curtesies, but I thought it my dutie to aske for my Mistresse being absent. Thus they passed some time with him vntill they were called away vnto prayers, and that being finished they went to dinner, where they met Dame Elynor at­tired in a night kerchief after the soolenest (the solempnest fashion I should haue sayed,) who loked very drowsely vpon all folkes vnlesse it were hir secretary, vnto whom she deigned sometime to lend a fréendly glaunce. The Lord of the Castle demaunded of hir howe F.I. did this [Page 275] morning. She answered that she knew not, for she had not séene him that day. You may do wel then daughter (qd the Lord) to go now vnto him, & to assay if he wil eate a­ny thing, & if here be no meates that like him, I pray you commaund (for him) any thing that is in my house. You must pardon me sir (quod she,) I am sickly disposed, and would be loth to take the ayre: why then go you Mistres Fraunce (quod he) and take some body with you: and I charge you sée that he lacke nothing. Mistresse Fraunces was glad of the ambassade, & arysing from the table with one other gentlewoman, toke with hir a dishe of chickins boyled in white broth, saying to hir father: I thinke this meate méetest for Master I. of any that is here. It is so (qoud he) daughter, and if he like not that, cause some­what els to be dressed for him according to his apetite. Thus she departed and came to F. I. who being plonged in sundry woes and thrilled with restlesse thoughtes, was now beginning to aryse: but seing the Dames, cou­ched downe againe, and sayd vnto them. Alas fayre La­dies you put your selues to more paynes than eyther I do desire, or can deserue. Good Trust quod Dame Fraun­ces, our paines are no greater than dutie requireth, nor yet so great as we could vouchsafe in your behalfe, and presently my father hath sent vs vnto you (quod she) with this pittaunce, and if your apetite desire any one thing more than other, wée are to desire likewise that you will not refrayne to call for it. Oh my good Hope (quod hée) I perceiue that I shall not dye as longe as you maye make mée liue. And being nowe somedeale re­comforted with the remembraunce of his Mistres words which shée hadde vsed ouer night at hir first comming, and also thinkinge that although shée parted in choller, it was but iustly prouoked by him selfe, and that at leasure hée shoulde fyn [...]e some salue for that soore also: hée determyned to take the comforte of his assured Hope, [Page 276] and so to expell all venomnes of mistrust before re­ceyued: wherfore raysing him selfe in his bed, he cast a night gowne about his shoulders saying: It shall neuer be sayd that my faynting hart can reiect the comfortable Cordialles of so fréendly phisitions. Nowe by my troth well sayed gentle Trust quod Dame Fraunces, and in so doing assure your selfe of guerison with spéed. This thus sayed, the curteous Dame became his keruer, & hée with a bold spirite gan tast of hir cookery, but the late conflicts of his conceipts had so disaquainted his stomack from re­pastes, that he could not well away with meate: and yet neuerthelesse by little & little receyued some nouryture. When his Hope had crammed him as long as she coulde make him féede, they deliuered the rest to the other gen­tlewoman, who hauing not dyned, fell to hir prouander. In which meane while the Lady Fraunces had much cō ­fortable spéech with F.I. and declared that she perceyued very well the cause of his malladie, but my Trust (quod she) be all whole, and remember what I foretold you in the beginning: neuerthelesse you must thinke that there are remedies for all mischiefes, and if you wilbe ruled by myne aduise, we will soone find the meane to ease you of this mishap. F. I. toke comforte in hir discretion, and fréendly kissing hir hand, gaue hir a cartlode of thankes for hir great good will, promising to put to his vttermost force, and euermore to be ruled by hir aduise. Thus they passed the dynner while, the Ladie Fraunces alwayes re­fusing to declare hir conceipt of the late change which she perceyued in his Mistresse, for shée thought best first to wynne his will vnto conformitie by little and little, and then in the end to persuade him with necessitie. When the other gentlewoman had vytayled hir, they departed, requiring F.I. to arise and boldly to resist the fayntnesse of his feuer, the which he promised and so bad them a Di [...]. The Ladyes at their returne found the courte in Dame [Page 277] Elynors chamber, who had there assembled hir secretary, Dam Pergo, and the rest: there they passed an hower or twayne in sundry discourses, wherin Dame Pergo did al­waies cast out some bone for Mistresse Fraunces to gnaw vppon, for that in déede she perceyued hir harty affection towardes F.I: whereat Mistresse Fraunces changed no countenaunce, but reserued hir reuenge vntill a better oportunitie. At last (quod Dame Fraunces vnto Mistresse Elinor) and when will you go vnto your seruaunt fayre Lady? When he is sicke and I am whole quod Dame E­lynor. That is euen now quod the other, for how sicke hée is your self can witnesse: and how well you are we must beare record. You may aswel be deceiued in my dispositi­on (quod Dame Elynor) as I was ouerséene in his sodain alteration, and if he be sicke you are méetest to be his phi­sition: for you sawe yesterday that my paines did little profite towardes his recōfort. Yes surely sayd the other, not onely I but all the rest had occasiō to iudge that your curtesie was his chiefe comfort. Well quod Dame Elinor you know not what I know. Nor you what I think quod Dame Fraunces. Thinke what you list quod Elynor. In déede quod Fraunces I may not thinke that you care, nei­ther will I die for your pleasure: and so halfe angry shée departed. At supper they met againe, and the Maister of the house demaūded of his daughter Fraunces how F.I. did? Sir (quod she) he did eate somewhat at dinner, and sithens I saw him not. The more to blame quod he, and now I would haue al you gentlewomen take of the best meates and go suppe with him: for company driueth a­way carefulnesse, and leaue you me here with your lea­uinges alone. Nay sir quod Mistresse Elynor, I pray you giue me leaue to beare you company, for I dare not ad­uenture thither. The Lord of the Castle was contented & dispatched away the rest: who taking with them such vy­andes as they thought méetest, went vnto F.I. chamber, [Page 278] fynding him vp, and walking about to recouer strength, whereat Dame Fraunces reioysed, and declared how hir father had sent that company to attend him at supper. F. I. gaue great thankes, and missing now nothing but his Mistresse, thought not good yet to aske for hir, but because he partly gessed the cause of hir absence, he con­tented him selfe, hoping that when his lure was newe garnished, he shoulde easely reclayme hir from those coye conceiptes. They passed ouer their supper all in quiet, and sone after Mistresse Fraunces, being desirous to re­quite Dame Pergoes quippes, requested that they might continue the pastime which Dame Pergo had begon o­uer night: whereunto they all consented, and the lot fell vnto Dame Fraunces to propounde the second question, who adressing hir spéeche vnto F. I. sayde in this wyse. Noble gouernor, I will reherse vnto you a straūge histo­rie, not fayned, neither borowed out of any olde auctho­ritie, but a thing done in déede of late daies, and not farre distant from this place where wee nowe remayne. It chaunced that a gentleman our neighbour being maried to a very fayre gentlewoman, liued with hir by the space of fower or fiue yeares in great contentation, trusting hir no lesse than he loued hir, and yet louing hir as much as any man coulde loue a woman. On that otherside the gentlewoman hadde woon (vnto hir beautie) a singular commendation for hir chast and modest behauiour. Yet it happened in time that a lustie younge gentleman (who very often resorted to them) obtayned that at hir handes▪ which neuer any man coulde before him attayne: and to be playne, he woon so much in hir affections, that forget­ting both hir owne dutie and hir husbandes kindnes, she yéelded hir body at the commaundement of this louer, in which pastime they passed long time by their polliticks gouernement. At last the friendes of this Lady (and e­specially thrée sisters which she had) espied ouermuch fa­miliaritie [Page 279] betwene the two louers, and dreading least it might breake out to their cōmon reproch toke their sister apart, and declared that the worlde did iudge scarce well of the repayre of that gentleman vnto hir house: and that if she did not foresée it in time, she shoulde not onely leese the good credite which she hir selfe had hitherto pos­sessed, but furthermore should distayne their whole race with common obloquy and reproch. These and sundry o­ther godly admonitions of these sisters could not sinke in the mind of this gentlewoman, for she did not onely stand in defiaunce what any man coulde thinke of hir, but also séemed to accuse them, that because they saw hir estimati­on (being their yonger) to growe aboue their owne, they had therfore deuised this meane to set variance betwene hir husbande and hir. The sisters séeing their holesome counsell so reiected, and hir continue still in hir obstinate opinion, adressed their spéech vnto hir husbande, decla­ring that the worlde iudged not the best, neyther they themselues did very wel like of the familiaritie betwene their sister and that gentleman, and therfore aduised him to forecast all perils, and in time to forbid him his house. The husband (on that otherside) had also conceyued such a goo [...] opinion of his gest, & had growen into such a stricte famyliaritie with him, y^• you might with more ease haue remoued a stone wall, than once to make him thinke a­misse, eyther of his wyfe, or of hir louer: Yea and imme­diately after this conference he would not sticke thus to say vnto his wyfe. Besse: (for so in dée [...]e was hir name) thou hast thrée such busie bray [...]ed si [...]ters, as I thincke shortly their heads will breake: they woulde haue me to bée tellous of thée, no no Besse &c. so that hee was not onely farre from any such beliefe, but furthermore dyd euery day encrease his curtesies towardes the louer. The sisters being thus on all sides reiected, and yet perceiuing more and more an vnseemely behauiour betwene their [Page 280] sister and hir miniō, began to melt in their owne grease: and such was their enraged pretēce of reuenge, that they suborned diuers seruants in the house to watch so dilli­gently, as that this treason might be discouered. Amōgst the rest, one mayde of subtill spirite had so long watched them, that at last she espied them go into a chamber toge­ther, and locke the doore to them: whereuppon she ranne with all hast possible to hir Maister, and tolde him that if he would come with hir, shée woulde shewe him a very straunge sight. The gentleman (suspectinge nothinge) went with hir vntill he came into a chamber neare vnto that wherein they had shut themselues, and she poynting hir Maister to the keyhole, bad him looke through, where he sawe the thing which most might mislike him to be­hold. Where at he sodaynely drewe his Dagger, and tur­ned towardes the mayde, who fled from him for feare of mischiefe: but when he could not ouer take hir in the heat of his choller, he commaunded that she should forthwith trusse vp that little which she had and to depart his ser­uice: and before hir departure he found meanes to talke with hir, threatening that if euer she spake any word of this mystery in any place where she should come, it shuld cost hir lyfe. The mayde for feare departed in silence, and the Master neuer changed coūtenance eyther to his wife or to hir peramour, but feyned vnto his wyfe that he had turned away the mayde vppon that sodaine, for that shée had throwen a Kitchin knife at him, whyles he went a­bout to correct a fault in hir &c. Thus the good gentleman dranke vp his owne swette vnséene euery day, encrea­sing curtesie to the louer, and neuer chaunging counte­naunce to his wyfe in any thing, but onely that he refray­ned to haue such knowlege of hir carnally as he in times past had, and other men haue of their wyues. In this sort he continued by the space all most of halfe a yeare, neuer­thelesse lamenting his mishap in sollitary places. At last [Page 281] (what moued him I know not) he fell agayn to company with his wife as other men doo, and as I haue heard it saied he vsed this pollicy: euery time that he had know­ledge of hir, he would leaue either in the bed, or in hir cus­shencloth, or by hir looking glasse, or in some place wher shée must néedes find it, a piece of mony which then was fallen to thrée halfpence: and I remember they called thē Slippes. Thus he dealt with hir continually by the space of foure or fiue monethes, vsing hir neuerthelesse very kindly in all other respectes, & prouiding for hir al things necessary at the first call: But vnto his geast he still aug­mented his curtesie, in suche sorte, that you would haue thought them to be sworne brothers. Al this notwithstā ­ding his wife much musing at these thrée half peny pée­ces which she founde in this sorte, and furthermore, ha­uing sundry times found hir husband in solitarie places making great lamentation, she grew enquisitiue, what should be the secret cause of these alteracions: vnto whō he would none otherwise answere, but that any mā shuld finde occasion to be more pensiue at one time than at an­other. The wife notwithstanding encreasing hir suspect, emported the same vnto hir louer, alledging therwithall that shée doubted very much least hir husband had some vehement suspiciō of their affaires. The louer encoraged hir, & likewise declared, y^• if she would be importunate to enquire the cause, hir husband would not be able to kéepe it from hir: and hauing now throughly enstructed hir, she dealt with hir husband in this sorte. One day when shee knew him to be in his study alone, she came in to him, and hauing fast locked the dore after hir, and cōueyed the key into hir pocked, she began first with earnest entreaty, and then with teares to craue that he would no longer kéepe from hir the cause of his sodein alteration. The husband dissimuled the matter still: at last she was so earnest to know for what cause he left money in such sort at sundry [Page 282] times, that he aunswered on this wise: Wyfe (quod he) thou knowest how long we haue ben maried togither, & how long I made so deare accompt of thée as euer man made of his wife: since which dayes, thou knowest also how long I refreyned thy company, and how long again I haue vsed thy company leauing the mony in this sorte, and the cause is this. So lōg as thou didst behaue thy self faithfully towards me, I neuer lothed thy company, but sithens I haue perceiued thée to be a harlot, therfore did I for a time refreine and forbeare to lie with thée: & now I can no longer forbeare it, I do giue thée euery time that I lye with thée a slip, which is to make thée vnderstande thine own whordome: and this reward is sufficient for a whore. The wife began stoutly to stand at defiance, but the husband cut off hir spéeche and declared when, where, and how he had séene it: hereat the womā being abashed, and finding hir conscience gilty of asmuch as he had alled­ged, fel down on hir knées, & with most bitter teares cra­ued pardon, confessing hir offence: whereat hir husband (moued with pitie) & melting likewise in fluds of lamen­tation, recōforted hir promising that if from that day for­wards she would be true vnto him, he wold not only for­giue al that was past, but become more tender & louing vnto hir than euer he was. What do I tary so long? they became of accord: & in full accōplishment therof, the gent­lewoman did altogither eschew the company, the speech, & (as much as in hir lay) the sight of hir louer, although hir husband did continue his curtesie to wars him, and often charged his wife to make him fair semblant. The Louer was now onely left in perpleritie, who knewe nothing what might be the cause of all these chaunges, & that most greeued him, he could by no meanes obteyne agayn the spéech of his desired: hee watched all opportunities, hée suborned messangers, he wrote letters, but all in vayne. In the end shée caused to be declared vnto him a time and [Page 283] place where she would méete him and speake with him. Being mett, she put him in remembrance of all that had passed betwene them: shhe layed also before him howe trusty shée had bin vnto him in all professions: she confes­sed also how faithfully hee had discharged the dutie of a friend in all respects, and therewithall she declared that hir late alteration and pensiuenes of mind was not with out great cause, for that she had of late such a mishap, as might change the disposition of any liuing creature: Yea and that the case was such, as vnlesse she found present remedy, hir death must néedes ensue and that spéedely: for the preuenting whereof, she alledged that she had beaten hir braynes with all deuises possible, and that in the end she could think of no redresse but one, the which lay only in him to accomplishe. Wherfore she besought him for all the loue and good will which passed betwene them, nowe to shew the fruites of true friendship, and to gratifie hir with a frée graunt to this request. The louer who had al­ways ben desirous to pleasure hir in any thing, but now especially to recouer hir woonted kindnesse, gan frankly promise to accōplish any thing that might be to him pos­sible, yea though it were to his great detriment: and therewithall did déepely blame hir in that she would so long torment hir selfe with any grief, considering that it lay in him to helpe it. The Lady aunswered, that she had so long kept it from his knowledge, bycause she doubted whether he would be contented to performe it or not, al­thogh it was such a thing as he might easely graūt with­out any maner of hurt to himself: & yit that now in y^e end she was forced to aduēture vpon his curtesie, being no lō ­ger able to bear y^e burdē of hir grief the louer solicited hir most earnestly to disclose it: and she (as fast) séemed to mi­strust y^• he would not accōpl [...]sh it. In the end she tooke out a booke (which shée had brought for the no [...]ce) and bound him by oth to accōplish it. The louer mistrusting nothing [Page 284] lesse than that ensued, tooke the othe willingly: which don she declared al that had passed betwene hir & hir husband: his grief, hir repentance, his pardon, hir vow, & in y^e ende of hir tale enioined the louer, that frō thenceforthwards, he should neuer attempt to break hir cōstant determina­tion: the louer replied that this was vnpossible: but shée plainly assured him, y^• if he graūted hir that request, she would be his friend in all honest & godly wise: if not, shée put him out of doubt that she would eschew his cōpany & flie from his sight as from a scorpion. The louer conside­ring that hir request was but iust, accusing his own gilty conscience, remembring the great curtesies always vsed by hir husband, & therwithal séeing the case now brought to such an issue, as y^• by none other meanes than by this it could be cōceiled frō knowledge of the world: but most of all, being vrged by his oth, did at last giue an vnwilling consent, & yit a faithful promise to yéeld vnto hir wil in al things: and thus being become of one assēt, he remaineth the dearest friend & most welcome gest that may be, both to the Lady & hir husband, and the man & wife so kind (ech to other) as if there neuer had bin such a breache betwene them. Now, of you noble Gouernor I would fayn learn, whether the perplexitie of the husband when he looked in at the key hole, or of the wife when she knewe the cause why the slippes were so scattered, or of the louer when he knew what was his Mistres charge, was greater of the thrée? I might haue put in also the troubled thoughts of the sisters & the mayd, when they sawe their good will re­iected, but let these thrée suffise. Gentle Hope (quod F. I.) you haue rehearsed (& that right eloquētly) a notable tale, or rather a notable history, bycause you séeme to affirme, that it was don in déed of late, & not far hence. Wherein I note fiue especiall pointes: that is a maruelous pacience in the husband, no lesse repentance in the wyfe, no small boldnesse of the mayd, but much more rashnesse in the si­sters, [Page 285] and last of all, a rare tractabilitie in the louer. Ne­uerthelesse to returne vnto your question, I think the husbands perplexitie greatest, bicause his losses abounded a­boue the rest, & his iniuries were vncōparable. The Lady Fraunces did not séeme to contrary him, but rather smyled in hir sléeue at Dame Pergo, who had no lesse patience to heare the tale recited, than the Lady Fraūces had pleasure in telling of it, but I may not rehearse the cause why, vnlesse I shuld tell all. By this time the sléeping houre apro­ched, & the Ladies prepared their departure, when as mi­stres Fraūces said vnto F.I. Although percase I shal not do it so handsomly as your mistres, yit good Trust (quod she) if you vouchsafe it, I can be content to trim vp your bed in y^e best maner that I may, as one who would be as glad as she to procure your quiet rest. I.F. gaue hir gret thāks desiring hir not to trouble hirself, but to let his mā alone with that charge: thus they departed, and how all parties tooke rest that night I know not: but in the morning F.I. began to cōsider w^t himself that he might lye long enough in his bed before his mistres would be apeased in hir pée­wish cōceipts: wherfore he arose, & being aparelled in his night gown, tooke occasion to walk in the gallery néer ad­ioyning vnto his Mistres chāber: but ther might he walk long enough ere his mistres would come to walk w^t him. When dinner time came he wēt into the great chamber wheras the Lord of the castle saluted him being ioyful of his recouery. F.I. giuing dewe thanks, declared that his frendly entretainemēt togither with the great curtesie of the gentlewomē was such, as might reuiue a mā althogh he were half dead. I would be loth (qd the hoste) that any gentlemā cōming to me for good wil shuld want any cur­tesie of entertainmēt y^• lieth in my power. Whē y^• meat was serued to the table, the gentlewomē came in all but Dame Elynor & mistres Pergo, the which F.I. marked ve­ry well, & it did somewhat abate his apetit. After dinner, [Page 286] his Hope came vnto him and demaunded of him howe hée would passe the day for his recreation? to whom he aun­swered euen as it best pleased hir. She deuised to walke into the park, & so by little & litle to acquaint himself with the ayre: he agréed, & they walked togither being accōpa­nied with one or two other gentlewomē. Here (least you shuld grow in some wrong cōceit of F.I.) I must put you out of dout, that although ther were now more cause that he shuld mistrust his mistres than euer he had before re­ceiued, yit the vehemēt passions which he saw in hir whē the first came to visit him, & moreouer, the earnest words which she pronoūced in his extremity, were such a refreshing to his mind, as that he determined no more to trouble himself w^t like cōceitps: cōcluding further, y^• if his mistres wer not faulty, thē had he cōmittted a foule offēce in néed­lesse ielousie, & that if she were faulty (especially with the Secretary) thē no persuasion could amend hir, nor any pas­sion help him: and this was the cause y^• enabled him after such passing pangs to abyde the doubtfull conclusion, thus manfully and valiātly to represse feintnesse of his mind: nothing doubting but that he should haue wonne his Mi­stres to pardon his presumption, & louingly to embrace his seruice in wonted maner, but he was far deceyued, for she was now in another tewne, the which Mistres Fraū ­ces began partly to discouer vnto him as they walked to­gither: for shée burdened him that his mallady procéeded only of a disquiet mind. And if it did so my gentle Hope (quod he) what remedy? My good Trust (quod she) none o­ther but to plant quiet where disquiet began to grow. I haue determined so (qd he) but I must craue the helpe of your assured friēship. Therof you may make accoūpt (qd she) but wherin? F.I. walking apart with hir, begā to de­clare that ther was some contētion hapened betwene his mistres & him: the Lady told him that she was not igno­rant therof. Thē he desired hir to treat so much in y^• cause, [Page 287] as they might eftsones come to Parlee: therof I dare as­sure you (qd Mistresse Fraunces, & at their retorne she led F.I. into his Mistres chamber, whom thei found lying on hir bed, whether galded with any grief, or weary of the thing (which you wrot of) I know not, but there she lay: vnto whō F.I. gaue two or thrée salutatiōs before she sée­med to mark him. At last said the Lady Fraunces vnto hir, your seruāt hearing of your sicknes, hath aduētured thus far into the ayre to sée you. I thank him (qd Dame Elynor) & so lay still, refusing to giue him any coūtenāce. Wherat F. I. perceyuing al the other gentlewomen fal to whispe­ring, thought good, boldly to plead his own case: & aproching the bed begā to enforce his vnwilling mistres vnto cur­tesie, wherin he vsed such vehemēce as she could not well by any meanes refuse to talke with him: but what their talk was I may not take vpō me to tell you, vnlesse you woul [...] haue me fill vp a whole volume only with his matters, and I haue dilated thē ouer largely already. Suffy­seth this to be knowne, that in the ende shee pretended to passe ouer all old grudges, & thenceforth to pleasure him as accasion might serue: the which occasion was so long in hapening, that in the end F.I. being now eftsones troubled with vnquiet fantasies, & forced to vse his pen again as an Ambassadour betwene thē: one daye amongst the rest found oportunitie to thrust a letter into hir bosome, wherin he had earnestly requested another mooneshyne banquet or frydayes breakfast to recomfort his dulled spirits, wherunto the Dame yéelded this aunswer in wri­ting, but of whose endyting iudge you.