THere dwelled in the City of Mity­lene, a certaine Duke called Clero­phontes, who through his prowesse in all martial exploits wared so proud and tyrannous, vsing such mercilesse crueltie to his forraigne enemies, and such moodlesse rigor to his natiue Citi­zens, that it was doubtfull whether hée was more feared of his foes for his crueltie, or hated of his friends for his tyrannie: yet as the worst weed springeth vp more braue­ly then the wholsommest hearbe, and as the crookedst trée is commonly laden with most fruite, so this rigorous duke was so fauoured and fostered vp by fortune, his estate be­ing so established with honor, & so beautified with wealth, so deckt with the Diadem of dignity, and endued with for­tunate prosperity, hauing in warres such happie successe against his foes, and in peace such dutifull renerence of his friends, (although more for feare than fauour) as he séemed to want nothing that either fortune or the fates coulde al­low him, if one onely sore which bred his sorrowe, coulde haue béen salued. But this griefe so galled his conscience, and this cursed care so cumbred his minde, that his happi­nesse was greatly surcharged with heauinesse, to sée the cause of his care could by no meanes be cured. For this Clerophontes, was indued with two children, the one a daughter named Lewcippa, and the other a sonne called Gwydonius: this Lewcippa, was so perfect in the com­plexion [Page] of her bodie, and so pure in the constitution of her minde, so adorned with outward beautie, and endued with inward bountie, so polished with rare vertues and exqui­site qualities, as shée séemed a séemly Venus for her beauty, and a second Vesta, for her virginite: yea, Nature and the gods had so beuntifully bestowed their gifts vpon her, as same herselfe was doubtful whether she should make grea­ter report of her excellent vertue, or exquisite beautie. But his sonne Gwydonius, was so contrarie to his sister Lew­cippa, (though not in the state of his bodie, yet in the staie of his mind) as it made al men maruaile how two such con­trarie stemmes could spring out of the self same stock: His personage indéed was so comely, his feature so wel framed, each limb so perfectly couched, his face so fair, and his coun­tenance so amiable, as he séemed a heauenly creature in a mortall carcasse.

But his minde was so blemished with detestable quali­ties, and so spotted with the staine of voluptuousnesse, that hee was not somuch to bee commended for the proporti­on of his bodie, as to bee condemned for the imperfecti­on of his minde. Hee was so endued with vanitie, and so imbrued with vice, so nursed vp in wantonnesse, and so nulled vp in wilfulnesse, so carelesse to obserue his fathers commaund, and so retchlesse to regard his counsell, that neither the dread of Gods wrath, nor the feare of his fathers displeasure, coulde driue him to desist from his detestable kinde of liuing. Nay, there was no fact so filchy, which hée would not commit, no mischiefe so monstrous, which hée would not enterprsse: no danger so desperate, which hée woulde not aduenture: no perill so fearefull, which hée would not performe: nor no action so diuelish, which hée would not execute. So immodest in his manners, so rude in his gestures, yea and so prodigall in his expences, as mines of golde were not able to maintaine such witlesse prodigalitie. This loathsom life of Gwydonius, was such a cutting corasiue to his Fathers carefull conscience, [Page] and such a haplesse clog to his heauic hart, that no ioy could make him enioy any ioy, no mirth could make him merry, no prosperity could make him pleasant: but abandoning all delight, & auoiding all companie, he spent his doleful daies in dumps and dolors, which he vttered in these words.

NOw (quoth hée) I proue by experience, the saying of Sophocles to be true, that the man which hath many children shall neuer liue without some mirth, nor die with­out some sorrow: for if they be vertuous, he shal haue cause whereof to reioyce, if vicious, wherefore to be sad: which saying I trie performed in myselfe: for as I haue one child which delights me with her vertue, so I haue another that despights me with his vanity, as the one by dutie brings me ioy, so the other by disobedience bréeds my anoy: yea as the one is a comfort to my minde, so the other is a fretting corasiue to my heart: for what griefe is there more griping, what pain more pinching, what crosse more combersome, what plagne more pernitious, yea, what trouble can tor­ment me worle, then to sée my sonne, mine heir, the inheritor of my Dukedom, which should be the pillex of my paren­tage, to consume his time in roysting and ryot, in spending and spoiling, in swearing and swashing, & in following wil­fully the furie of his own frantike fancie. Alas, most mise­rable and lamentable case, would to God the destinies had decreed his death in the swadling cloutes, or that the fates had prescribed his death in his infancie. Oh that the daie of his birth had béen the daie of his buriall, or that by some sinister storme of fortune he had béen stifled on his mothers knées, so that his vntimely death might haue preuented my ensuing sorrowes, and his future calamities: for I sie that the young frie will alwaies proue olde frogs, that the croo­ked twig will proue a crabbed trée, that the sower bud will neuer be swéet blossome, how that which is bred in the bone will not easily out of the flesh, that he which is carelesse in youth, will be lesse carefull in age, that where in prime of [Page] yéeres vice raigneth, there in ripe age vanity remaineth. Why Clerophontes, if thou séest the sore, why doest thou not apply the salue? and if thou doest perceiue the mischief, why doost not preuent it with medicine? take away the cause & the effect faileth: if Gwydonius be the cause of thy ruth, cut him off betimes, least hee bring thee to ruine: better hadst thou want a Son then neuer want sorrow. Perhaps thou wilt suffer him so long, til he fall sick of the Father, and then hée wil not only séek thy lands and liuing, but life and all, if thou preuent not his purpose: yea, and after thy death he will be through his lasciuious life the ouer throw of thy house, the consumer of thy Dukedome, the wracke of thy Common­weale, and the very man that shall bring the state of Mity­lene to mischief & miserie. Sith then thy Son is such a sink of sorrowes, in whose life lies hid a loathsome masse of wret­ched mishaps, cut him off as a gracelesse graft, vnworthy to grow out of such a stock. Alas Clerophontes, shalt thou be so vnnaturall as to seek the spoile of thine owne childe, wilt thou bee more sauage then the brute Beastes in com­mitting such crueltie? no, alas, the least misfortune of our children dooth so mooue vs, that as the Spider féeleth if her web bee prickt but with the point of a pinne, so if they bée toucht but with the least trouble, we féele the paines there­of with pricking grief to pinch vs. Why hath not Nature then caused loue to ascend as well as to descend, and placed as dutifull obedience in the childe, as louing affection in the father: and with that he fetcht such a deep sigh, that it was a signe of the extreame sorrowe he conceiued for his sonnes witlesse folly. But as hée was readie againe to enter into his dolefull discourse, to aggranate his griefe the more, and increase his care, certaine complaints were brought him by sundry Citizens, of the outragious behauiour of his Sonne Gwydonius, which béeing attentiuely heard he in great choller called for his sonne, against whom hée thun­dred out such threatning reproaches, laying before his face the misery that would ensue of such recklesse mischiefes, [Page] and promising that if hee directed not his course by a new compasse, and leuelled his life by a new line, hee would not onely repay his folly with the penalty of the law, but also by consent of his commons, disinherite him of his Duke­dome: that Gwydonius, greatly incensed with the seuere censure of his father, broyling with furious rage, sturdily burst forth into these stubborne tearmes.

SIr, (quoth hée) if Terence his Menedemus were aliue, and heard these your fond and fantasticall reasons, hee would as readily condemn you of crabbednesse, as he accu­sed Chremes of currishnesse: for as he by too much auste­ritie procured his sonnes mishap, so you by too much seue­ritie séeke to bréed my misfortune. You olde men most in­iustly, or rather iniuriously, measure our staylesse moode by your stayed minds, our yoong yeares by your hoary haires, our florishing youth by your withered age, thinking to di­rect our doings by your doatings, our wils by your wits, our youthfull fancies by your aged affections, & to quench our fierie flames by your dead coales and cinders: yea, sup­posing that the Leueret should be as skilfull in making of a head, as the olde Hare, that the yoong Cubs should assoon tapish, as the old Fox, that the yoong Frie should as well auoid the net as the old Fish, and that the yoong wantons should be as warie as the olde wisards. But this sir, is to make fire frost, to chaunge heate to colde, mirth to mour­ning, singing to sadnesse, pleasure to paine, and to tye the Ape and the Bear in one tedder. Sith then young stemmes will not bee set on a withered stocke, that the yoong twig lieth not vnder y^e old trée, that the toyish conceits of youth are vnfit for the testie cogitations of age: I mean for your satisfaction and my solace, to depart fram the Court, and to spend my dayes in trauell.

Clerophontes no sooner heard this determination of his sonne Gwydonius, but his sorrowe was halfe salued, and his care almost cured, thinking that by trauell hée [Page] should eyther end his life, or amend his lewdnesse, & there­fore both heartned and hastened his sonne in this his new course, least delay might bréed danger, or time by some toy cause him turn his tippet, furnishing & finishing all things necessarie for his sonnes iournie: who readie to goe (more willing to trauell, than his father to intreate him) had this friendly farewell giuen him by Clerophontes.

SOnne (quoth hee) there is no greater doubt which doth more déeply distresse the minde of a young man, then to determine with himselfe what course of life is best to take: for there is such a confused Chaos of contrarie conceits in yong wits, that whiles they look for that they cannot like, they are lost in such an endlesse labyrinth, as neither choice nor chance can drawe them out to their wished desires: for so many vaines so manie vanities: if vertue draweth one way, vice driueth another way: as profit perswades them, so pleasure prouokes them: as wit weigheth, will wre­steth, if friendes counsell them to take this, fancie forceth them to choose that: so that desire so long hanges in doubt, as either they choose none, or else chance on the worst. But in my opinion, the fittest kind of life for a young gentleman to take (who as yet hath not subdued the youthfull conceits of fancie, nor made a conquest of his wil by wit) is to spend his time in trauell, whearin hee shall finde both pleasure and profite: yea, and buy that by experience, which o­therwise with all the treasure in the world he cannot pur­chase. For what changeth vanity to vertue, staylesse wit to stayed wisedome, fond fantasies to firme affections, but trauell: what represseth the rage of youth, and redresseth the witlesse furie of wanton yéeres, but trauell: what tur­neth a secure life to a carefull liuing, what maketh the foo­lish wise, yea, what increaseth wit and augmenteth skill, but trauell? insomuch that the fame Vlysses wonne, was not by the tenne yéeres he late at Troy, but by the time he spent in trauell. But there is nothing Gwydonius, so pre­cious, [Page] which in some respect is not perilous, nor nothing so pleasant which may not be painfull: The finest Golde hath his drosse, the purest wine his lees, the brauest Rose his prickles, each sweete hath his sower, each ioy his an­noy, each weale his woe, and cuerie delight his danger.

So trauaile, Gwydonius, is a course of life verie plea­sant, and yet very perillous, wherein thou maiest practice vertue if thou take heed, or purchase discredit if thou béest carelesse: where thou maiest reape renowne if thou béest vertuous, and gaint reproach if thou be vicious: whereout do spring wisedome and folly, fréedome and bondage, trea­sure and trash, fame and discredit, honour and shame, accor­ding to the disposition of him which either vseth it to his profit, or abuseth it to his discemmoditie. Sith then thou shalt beare saile in such perillous Straightes, take heede lest thou dash thy Ship against most dangerous Rockes. It is a saying Gwydonius, not so common as true, that he which will heare the Syrens sing, must with Vlysles, tye himselfe to the mast of the ship, least happily he be drowned. Whoso means to be a suter to Circes, must take a Preser­uatine, vnlesse he will be inchanted.

He that will fish for the Torpedo, must annoint his hand with the oyls of Nemiphar, least he be charmed, and whoso meaneth to enter combat with vanitie, must first surelie defence himselfe with the target of vertue, vnlesse he meane to be a captiue to care or calamitie. I speake this Gwydo­nius by experience, which afterward thou shalt know by proofe: for in trauell thou shalt finde such subtill Syrens, as will indanger thée, such sorcering Circes, as will inchaunt thée, such poysoned Torpedos, as will not only charme thy hand, but thy heart, if by my experience and other mens pe­rils thou learne not to be ware. First Gwydonius, be not too sumptuous, least thou séem prodigall, nor to couetous, least they count thee a niggard: for by spending in excesse, thou shalt be thought a vaine glorious foole, & by too much sparing, a couetous pelant. Be not wilfull in thy doings, [Page] that they count thée not witlesse; nor too rash, that they think thée not deuoid of reason: be not too merry, that they count thée not immodest; nor too sober, least they call thée sullen, but shew thy self to be an old man for thy grauitie, and a yoong youth for thy actiuitie: so shall all men haue cause to praise thee for thy manners, and commend thee for thy modesty. Be not too curious Gwydonius, y^t they déem thée not proud, nor too curteous, least they call thée coun­terfaite. Be a friend to all, and a foe to none, and yet trust not without tryall, nor commit anie secret to a friendly stranger, least in too much trust lie treason, & thou be forced by repentance to crie Peccaui. The swéetest Muske is so­wer to be tasted, the finest Pilles most bitter to be chew­ed, and the flattering friend most tickle being tryed: then beware least faire wordes makes fooles fayne, and glozing spéeches cause Had I wist to come too late. Lend not, Gwy­donius, a listning ear to the alarums of Loue, nor yield not thy fréedome to the assault of lust, be not dazeled with the beames of sading beautie, nor daunted with the desire of e­euery delicate damsell: for in time such blisse will proue but bane, and such delightfull ioy, but despightfull annoie. Lust Gwydonins will prooue an enemy to thy purse, and a foe to thy person, a canker to thy minde, and a corasiue to thy conscience, a weakner of thy wit, a molester of thy minde, a besofter of thy senses, and finally, a mortall bane to all thy body; so that thou shalt finde pleasure the pathway to perdition, & lusting Loue the load stone to ruth and ruine. Séek not then Gwydonius, gréedily to deuoure that bait, wherein thou knowest a hurtfull hooke to bee hidden: frequent not that pleasure which will turne so thy poy­son, nor couet that companie which will conuert to thy confusion, least through such folly thou haue cause in time to be sad, and I to besorrowfull. Now Gwydonius that thou hast heard the aduertisment of a louing Father, fol­low my aduise as a dutiful childe: and the more to bind thée to perform my former precepts, that this my counsaile [Page] be not drowned in obliuion, I giue thée this ring of golde wherein is written this sentence, Praemonitus, Praemuni­tus. A poesie pretie for the words, and pithie for the matter, short to be rehearsed, and long to be related; inferring this sense, that he which is forewarned by friendly counsaile of imminent dangers, is forearmed against all future mis­hap and calamitie, so that he may by forewarning prenent perils if it bee possible, or if by sinister fortune hee cannot esehew them, yet hée may beare the Crosse with more pati­ence and lesse griefe. Keepe this King Gwydonius care­fully, that thou mayest shew thy selfe to respect thy owne case, and regard my counsaile: and in so dooing thou shalt please me, and pleasure thy selfe.

CLerophontes, hauing thus ended his discourse, embracing his sonne with fatherly affection, and giuing him his blessing, went secretly into his Chamber, the more to couer his griefe which hée conceiued for his sonnes departure: vnwilling his sonne should perceiue by his sor­row how vnfeinedly he both liked and loued him.

VVEll: Gwydonius, hauing taken his leaue of his Father, furnished both with counsaile and coine, with aduise of wisedome and ayde of wealth, passed on his iourney very solemnly, vntill hee was past the boundes of his Fathers Dukedome: and then as merry as might be, he trauelled by the space of seauen weekes without a­nie residence, vntill he came to a Cittie called Barutta, where (whether hee were delighted with the situation of the place, or deluded with the perswasion of some Para­siticall persons) hée securely settled himselfe by the space of a whole yeare: in which time he so carelesly floated in the seas of voluptuousnesse, and so recklesly raunged in li­centious and lawelesse libertie, thinking himselfe a pea­sant if he were not prodigall, counting nothing comely, if not costly, nothing seemely if not sumptuogs, vsing such [Page] monstrons excesse in all his actions, that the Citizens of Barutta noted him for a myrrour of immoderate life, and a very patterne of witlesse prodigalitie: yea, his excessiue expences daily so mercased, that mines of gold had not bin sufficient to maintaine his pompons magnificence; inso­much, that the Magistrate of Barutta. not only maruel­led where hee had coine to counteruaile his expenses, but also began to suspect him eyther for some skilfull Alcumist, or that he had some large commission to take vp those pur­les that fell into lapse, for want of sufficient defence: wher­vpon béeing called before the Magistrates and strictly exa­mined what trade hee vsed, why he stayed so long in the Ci­tie, and how hee was able to maintaine so princely a port as he carried: Gwydonius, vnwilling to haue them priuie to his parentage, began to coine a scuse, yet not so cunning­ly but hee was trapt in his own talk, and so cast in prison, where he lay clogged with care and deuoid of comfort, ha­uing not so much as one trustie friend, amongst all those trothlesse flatterers which in prosperitie had so frequented his companie: the ingratitude of whom so perplered his mo­lested mind, as surcharged with sorrow, he burst forth into these tearms.

ALas (quoth hee) now haue I bought that by haplesse experience, which if I had béen wise, I might haue got by happy counsell: Now am I taught that with pain and peril, which if selfeloue had not besotted my senses, I might haue learned with profit and pleasure, that in the fairest Sandes is most ficklenesse, out of the brauest Blos­some most commonly springeth the worst fruite, that the finest floure seldome hath the best smell, that the most gli­stering stone hath oftentimes the least vertue, and that in the greatest shew of good will, lyes oft times the smallest effect of friendship, in most flatterie least faith, in the fairest face the falsest heart, in the smoothest tale the smallest truth, & in the swéetest gloses, most lower ingratitude: Yea, I sée [Page] now (quoth he) y^t in trust lies treason, that fair words make fools fain, and that the state of these fained friends are like to the Marie-gold, which as long as the Sunne shineth ope­neth her leaues, but with the least cloud beginneth to close, like the Violets in America, which in sommer yéeld an o­doriferous smell, and in winter a most pestilent fauour: so these Parasites in prosperitie professe most, but in aduersi­tie performe least: when Fortune fauoureth, they laugh, when shee frowneth, they lowre; at eueryfull sea they flou­rish, but at euery dead Neape they fade: like to the fish Pa­lerna, which being perfectly white in the calme, yet turneth passing black at euery storm: to the trées in y^t desarts of Af­frica, that flourish but while the South winde bleweth, or to the Celedonie stone, which retaineth his vertue no longer than it is rubbed with gold.

Sith then Gwydonius (quoth hée) thou findes such false­hood in friendship, and such faithlesse déedes in such paynted spéeches, shake off these fawning curs with the flag of de­fiance, and from henceforth trie ere thou trust I, but (quoth he) it is too late to apply the salue when the sore is incura­ble, to crie alarum when the Citie is ouerrunne, to séeke for couert when the storme is past, and to take héede of such flattering mates, when alreadie thou art deceiued by such fawning merchaunts: now thou wilt crie Cave when thy coin is consumed, and beware when thy wealth is wrac­ked: when thou hast nothing wherof to take charge, thou wilt be charie, and when follie hath alreadie giuen thee a mate. thou wilt by wisedome séeke to auoide the check: but now thou tryest it true that thy father foretolde thee, that so long thou wouldest be carelesse, as at last repentance would pull thee by the sléeue, and then Had I wist would come too late.

Well Gwydonius, sith that which is once past can ne­uer be recalled againe, if thou hast by folly made a fault, séek by wisedome to make amendes, and heap not care vppon care, nor adde not griefe to sorrowe, by these pitifull com­plaintes, [Page] but chéere vp thy selfe and take heart at grasse, for the ende of woe is the beginning of weale, and after mi­serie alwaies insueth most happie felicity.

Gwydonius hauing thus dolorously discoursed with himselfe, remained not aboue ten dayes in prison, but that the Senate taking pittie of his case, and séeing no accusa­tions were inferred against him, set him frée from his pur­gatory, and gaue him good counsel, that hereafter hée should beware by such witlesse prodigalitie to incurre such suspi­cion. Theseus neuer triumphed more after he had escaped the danger of the perillous Labyrinth, than poore Gwydo­nius did when he was set frée from this pernitious Limbo: now the bitternesse of bondage made his fréedome séeme farre more sweete, and his danger so happily escaped, cau­sed his deliuery séem farre more delightfull. Yet he concei­ued such discurtesie against the Citizens, for repaying his liberal good will with such loathsome ingratitude, that the next morning he departed frō Barutta, not stored with too much mony for molesting his minde, nor ouercharged with coine for cumbering his cōscience with too much care: but hauing remaining of all his treasure onely that ring which his father gaue him, trauelled very solemnely to­ward Alexandria.

Where at that time ther raigned a certaine Duke na­med Orlanio, who was so famous and fortunate, for the peaceable gouernment of his Dukedome, administering iustice with such sinceritie, and yet tempering the extrea­mitie of the law with such lenitie, as hee both gayned the good will of strangers in hearing his vertue, and wonne the harts of his subiects in féeling his bounty, counting him vnworthy to hear the name of a Soueraigne, which knew not according to desert, both to cherish and chastise his sub­iects.

Fortune and the fates willing to place him in the pa­lace of earthly prosperity, endowed him with two children, [Page] the one a sonne named Thersandro, and the other a daugh­ter called Castania, either of them so adorned with the gifts of Nature, and be antifled with good nurture, as it was hard to knowe whether beautie or vertue helde the supremacie. But least by this happie estate Orlanio should be too much puffed vp with prosperitie, Fortune sparing him the mate, yet gaue him a slender checke, to warne him from securi­tie: for before his daughter came to the age of fouretéene yeares, his wife dyed, leauing him not more sorrowfull for the losse of her whom he most intirely loued, than carefull for the well bringing vp of her whom hee so dearely liked: Knowing that as his Court was a schoole of vertue to such as bridled their mindes with discretion, so it was a nurss of vice to those tender yeares that measured their willes with witlesse affection, esteeming libertie as perillous to the staie of youth, as precious to the state of age, and that nothing so soone allureth the minde of a young maide to va­nity, and to passe her youth without feare in security. Fea­red with the consideration of these premisses, to auoyde the inconueniences that might happen by suffering Casta­nia to leade her life in lawlesse libertie, hee thought it best to choose out some vertuous Ladie to kéepe her companie, who might direct her course by so true a compasse, and le­uel her life by so right a line, that although her young years were verie apt to be intangled in the snares of vanity, yet by her counsaile and companie, shee might steadily tread her steps in the trace of vertue: and none he could find more fit for the purpose, than a certain olde widow, called Ma­dame Melytta, honoured for her vertuous life throughout all Alexandria, who being sent for to the Court, he saluted on this manner.

MAdame Melytta (quoth hée) the report of thy honest conditions, and the renoume of thy vertuons qua­lities are such, as thereby thou hast not onelie pur­chased great praise, but wonne great credit throughout all [Page] the Countrie. In somuch that, incensed by this thy singu­lar commendation, I haue selected thée as the onely wo­man to whome I meane to commit my chiefest treasure: I mean, Melytta, my daughter Castania, to whom I will haue thee bee both a companion and a counsellour, haping thou wilt take such care to traine her vp in vertue, & trace her quite from vice, to winne her minde to honestie, and weane her quite from vanitie, that she in her ripe yeares shall haue cause to thanke thee for thy paines, and I occa­sian to regard thée as a friend, and reward thee for thy dili­gence.

FIrst Melytta, see that she leade her life both charily and chastly. Let her not haue her owne will, least shee proue too wilfull: or too much libertie, least shee become too light. The palme tree pressed downe, groweth notwithstanding but too fast. The heath Spattania, though troden on, grow­eth verie tall: and youth although strictly restrained, will proue but too stubburne.

The vessell sauoureth alwayes of that licour wherwith it was first seasoned and the minde retaineth those quali­ties in age wherein it was trained vp in youth. The ten­der twig is sonner broken than the strong branch, the yong stem more brittle than the old stocke, the weake bramble shaken with euerie wind, and the wanering will of youth tossed with euerie paste of vanitie, readie to bee wracked in the waues of wantonnesse, vnlesse it be cunningly guided by some wise and warie Pilot.

Then Melytta, sith youth is so easily entrapped with the alluring traine of foolish delights, and so soone entangled with the trash of pernitions pleasure, suffer not my daughter to passe her time in idlenesse, least happily being ta­ken at discouert, shee become a carelesse captiue to securi­tie: for whan the minde once floateth in the surging seas of idle conceits, then the puffes of voluptuous pleasures and the stifling stormes of vnbrideled fancy, the raging [Page] blastes of alluring beautie, and the sturdie gale of glozing vanitie, so shake the Shippe of recklesse youth, that it is dayly in doubt to suffer most dangerous shipwracke. But let her spend her time in reading such auncient authors as may sharpen her wit by their pithie sayings, and learne her wisedome by their perfect sentences. For where na­ture is vicious, by learning it is amended, and where it is vertuous by skill it is augmented. The stone of secret vertue is of greater price if it be brauely polished, the gold though neuer so pure of it selfe hath the better colour if it be burnished, and the minde though neuer so vertuous, is more noble if it be enriched with the gifts of learning. And Melytta, for recreation sake, let her vse such honest sports as may drine away dumps, least she be too pensiue, and free her minde from foolish conceits, that shee bee not too wanton.

Thus (Madame) as you haue heard my fatherly aduise, so I pray you giue my daughter the like friendly aduer­tisement; that hereafter she may haue both cause to reue­rence me, and to reward thee.

Melytta hauing heard with attentiue héed the minde of Orlanio, conceiued such ioy in this new charge, and such delight in this happy chance, as with cheerefull counte­nance she repayed him this answere.

SIr (quoth she) although in the largest seas are the forest tempests in the broadest waies most boisterous windes, in the highest hilles, most dangerous happes, and in the greatest charge the greatest care: yet the dutie which I owe you as my Soueraigne, and the loue I beare you as a subiect, the care I haue to please you as my Prince, and to pleasure you as a Potentate, the trust you repose in my trueth without sufficient tryall, the confidence you put in my conscience without sure proofe, the curtesie your Grace doth shewe me without anie desert, haue so inflamed the forepassed fire of dutifull affection, and so incouraged [Page] me to encounter your Graces curtesie, with willing con­stancie, that there is no hap so hard which I woulde not hazard, no danger so desperate which I woulde not aduen­ture, no burthen so heauie which I would not beare, no pe­rill so huge which I would not passe, no charge so great, which both willingly and warily I woulde not performe. For, since it hath pleased your Grace to vouchsafe so much of my simple calling, as to assigne me for a companion for your daughter Castania, I will take such care in the charie performance of my charge, and indenour with such dili­gence both to counsaile & comfort Castania, as your Grace shall perceiue my dutie in pleasing you, and my diligence in pleasuring her.

THe Duke hearing the friendly & faithfull protestation of the good Lady Melytta, tolde her that although it were great trouble for one of her age to frame her self as a companiō to such yong youth, and that some care belonged to such a charge, yet hee would so counternalle her painful labour with princely liberalitie, that both she and all Alex­andria should haue cause to speak of his bountie.

MElytta, thanking the Duke for such vndeserued curte­sie, setting her houshold affaires in good order, repay­red to the Court as spéedily as might be. But leauing her with Castania, again to Gwydonius: who now being arri­ued in Alexandria, pinched with pouerty, & distressed with want, hauing no coine left wherewith to counteruaile his expences, thought it his best course, if it were possible, to compasse the Dukes seruice: repairing therfore to the court hée had not staied there thrée dayes before he found fit opor­tunitie to offer his seruice to Orlanio, whom very dutiful­ly he saluted in this manner.

THe report (right worthie Prince) of your incompara­ble curtesie and pearlesse magnanimity is so blazed a­broad [Page] throughout all Countries, by the golden trumpe of Fame, that your Grace is not more loued of your subiects which tast of your liberall bountie, than honoured of stran­gers, which only heare of your princely vertue. Insomuch that it hath forced me to leaue my natiue soile, my parents, kindred, and familiar friends, and pilgrimlike to passe into a strange Country, to try that by experience héer, which I haue heard by report at home. For it is not (right worthy Sir) the state of your Country that hath altured me (for I deeme Bohemia, wherof I am, no lesse pleasant than Alex­andria) neither hath want of liuing or hope of gain intised me, for I am by birth a Gentleman, and issued of such pa­rents as are able with sufficient patrimonie to maintaine my estate: but the desire, not onely to sée, but also to learne such rare curtesie and vertuous qualities as fame hath re­ported to be put in practice in your Court, is the onely oc­casion of this my iourny. Now if in recompenee of this mytrauaile, it shal please your Grace to vouchsafe of my ser­uice, I shall think my self fully satisfied, and my pains suf­ficiently requited.

Orlanio, hearing this dutifull discourse of Gwydonius, marking his manners, and musing at his modestie, noting both his excellent courtesie, and exquisite beautie, was so inflamed with friendly affection toward this yoong youth, that not only hee accepted of his seruice, but also preferred him as a companion to his sonne Thersandro, promising that since hee had left his Country and Parents for this cause, he would so counteruaile his dutifull desert with fa­uour and friendship, as he should neuer haue cause to ac­cuse him of ingratitude.

Gwydonius repaying heartie thankes to the Duke for his vndeserued curtesie, being now brought from woe to weale, from despaire to hope, from bale to blisse, from care to securitie, from want to wealth, yea, from hellish misery, to heauenly prosperitie, behaued himselfe so wisely and warily with such curtesie in conuersation, and modestie in [Page] manners, that in short time hee not onely purchased credit and countenance with Orlanio, but was most intirely li­ked and loued of Thersando.

Now, there remained in the Court a young knight, cal­led Signior Valericus, who by chance casting his glancing eies on the glittering beautie of Castania, was so fettered in the snare of fancie, and so entangled with the trap of af­fection, so perplered in the Labyrinth of pinching loue, and so inchanted with the charme of Venus Sorcerie, that as the Elephant reioiceth greatly at the sight of a Rose, as the Bird Halciones delighteth to view the feathers of y^e Phoe­nix, and as nothing better contenteth a Ro-Buck, than to gaze at a red cloth; so there was no obiect that could allurc the wauering eyes of Valericus, as the surpassing beautie of Castania: yea, his only blisse, pleasure, ioy, & delight, was in féeding his fancy with staring on y^t Heauenly face of his goddesse. But alas her beautie bred his bane, her lookes his losse, her sight is sorrow, her exquisite perfections, his ex­treame passions, that as the Ape by séeing the Snaile is infected, as the Leopard falleth in a traunce at the sight of the Locust, as the Cockatrice dyeth with beholding the Chrisolito, so poore Valericus was pinched to the heart with viewing her comely countenance, was griped with galling griefe, and tortured with insupportable torments, by gazing vpon the gallant beauty of so gorgeous a dame: yea, he so framed in his fancie the forme of her face, and so imprinted in his hart the perfection of her person, that the remembrance therof would suffer him to take no rest, but he passed the day in dolour, the night in sorrow, no minute without mourning, no houre without heauinesse, that falling into pensiue passions hee began thus to parle with himselfe.

Why how now Valericus (quoth hée) art thou haunted with some hellish hagge, or passessed with some frantike furie? art thou inchaunted with some magicall charme, or charmed with some bewitching Sorcerie, that so so­dainly [Page] thy minde is perplexed with a thousand sundry pas­sions, alate frée, and now fettered, alate swimming in rest, and now sinking in care, erewhile in securitie, and now in captiuitie, yea turned from mirth to mourning, from plea­sure to paine, from delight to despight, hating thy selfe, and louing her who is the chiefe cause of this thy calamitie. Ah Valericus, hast thou forgot the saying of Propertius, that to loue, howsoeuer it be, is to lose; and to fancie, how charie so euer thy choice be, is to haue an ill chance? for Loue though neuer so fickle is but a Chaos of care; and fancie, though neuer so fortunate, is but a masse of miserie: for if thou en­ioy the beautie of Venus, thou shalt finde it small vantage: if thou get one as wise as Minerua, thou maiest put thy winnings in thine eye, if as gorgious as Iuno, thy ac­counts being cast, thy gain shalbe but losse: yea, be she ver­tuous [...]e she chast, be she curteous, be she constant, be shee rich, be she renowmed, be shee honest, be shee honourable, yet if thou be wedded to a woman, thinke thou shalt finde in her sufficient vanitie to counteruaile her vertue, that thy happinesse will bée matcht with heauinesse, thy quiet with care, thy contentation with vexation: that thou shalt sowe seede with sorrowe, and reape thy corne with sadnesse, that thou shalt neuer liue without griefe, nor die without Repentance: for in matching with a Wife there are such mischiefes, and in marriage such miseries, that Craterus the Emperour wishing some sinister fortune to happen vpon one of his foes, prayed vnto the gods that hée might hée married in his youth, and die without issue in his age, counting marriage such a cumbersome crosse, and a Wife such a pleasant plague, that he thought his foe could haue no worse torment, than to bée troubled with such noysome trash. Oh Valericus, if the consideration of these premisses bée not sufficient to perswade thee: if the sentence of Propertius cannot quench thy flame, nor the saying of Craterus coole thy fancie, call to minde what miseries, what mischiefes, what woes, what wailings, [Page] what mishaps, what murthers, what care, what calami­ties haue happened to such, as haue béell besotted with the balefull beautie of women, enioying more care than com­moditie, more paine than profite, more cost man comfort, more griefe than good: yea, reaping a tunne of drosse for e­uery dramm of perfect gold.

What carelesse inconstancie ruled Eriphila? What cur­rish crueltie raigned in Philomela? How incestuous a life led Aeuropa? and how miserable was that man that mar­ried Sthuolea? VVhat gaines got Tereus in winning Progne, but a loathsome death for a little delight. Aga­memnon in possessing the beautie of Cresida, caused the Greeian armie most grieuously to be plagued. Candaules was slaine by his murthering wife, whom so intirely hée loued. Who was thought more happie than the husband of Helena, and yet who in time lesse fortunate? What hap­lesse chaunces insued of the chastitie of Penelope? What broiles in Rome by the vertue of Lucretia? The one cau­sed her sutors most horribly to bée slaine, and the other that Tarquine and all his posteritie were rooted out of their re­gall dignities. Phaedra in louing killed her haplesse sonne Hippolitus, and Clitemnestra in hating slewe her louing husband Agamemnon. Alas Valericus, how dangerous is it then to deale with such dames, which if they loue, they procure thy fatall care: and if they hate thee, thy finall ca­lamitie?

But ah blasphemous beast that I am! thus recklesly to raile and rage without reason, thus currishly to exclaime against those, without whom our life though neuer so luc­kie, should séem most loathsome? thus Tymon like, to con­demne those heauenly creatures, whose only sight is a suf­ficient salue against all hellish sorrowes: Is this right, to conclude generally of particular premises? Is it iustice to accuse all for the fault of some? Is it equitie to blame the staie of vertuous women, for the state of vicious wantons? Doest thou thinke Valericus to shake off the shackles of [Page] fancie with this follie? Or to eschue the baite of beautie, by breathing out such blasphemie? No, no, assure thy self, that these thy raging reasons, will in time be most rige­rously renenged, that the gods themselues will plague thée for braying out such iniurious spéeches. Alas, Loue wan­ting desire, maketh the minde desperate: and fixed fancie bereaued of loue turneth into furie. The loyall faith I beare to Castania, and the loathsome feare of her ingrati­tude, the déep desire which inforceth my hope, & the dead­ly despaire which infringeth my hap, so tosseth my minde with contrarie cogitations, that I neither regard what I say, to my harme; nor respect what I doo, to my own hurt: yea, my senses are so belotted with pinching loue, and my minde so fretted with frying fancie, that death were thrice more welcome, than thus to linger in despairing hope.

And with that to passe away those pensiue passions, hée flung out of his chamber with his Hawke on his fist, thin­king by such sport to driue away this melanchollie humor, which so molested his minde.

But as hée was passing through the Court, hee was luckilie encountred by Melytta and Castania, who minding to haue some sport with Valericus before hée did passe: had the onset thus pleasantly giuen him by Casta­nia.

II is hard Signor Valericus (quoth shee) to take you eyther without your Hawke on your fist, or your heart on your halfepenie: for if for recreation you bee not re­triuing the Partridge with dogges, you are in solemne meditation driuing awaie the time with dumpes, ney­ther caring for companie to solace your sadnesse, norplea­santlie discoursing of some amorous Parle: which makes the Gentlewomen of this Court thinke, that you are either an Apostata to loue, as was Narcissus, or haue displayed the flagge of deffance against Fancie, as did Tyanaeus. If these their surmised coniectures bèe true, [Page] Valericus, I warne thée as a friend to beware by other mens harmes, least if thou imitate their actions, thou bée mangled with the like miserie, or maimed with the like misfortune.

Valericus hearing his Saint pronouncing this suge­red harmonie, feeling himselfe somewhat toucht with this quipping talke, was so rapt in admiration of her e­loquence, and so rauisht in the contemplation of hir beau­tie, that hée stood in a maze not able to vtter one word, vn­till at last gathering his wits together, hée burst forth in these spéeches.

MAdame (quoth he) what it pleaseth the gentle women of this court to sormise of my solitarines I know not: but if they attribute it to curiousnes, or coinesse, to strange­nesse or statelinesse, either that I am an enemy to loue, or a foe to fancie, that I detest their bountie with Nar­cissus, or contemne their beautie with Tiancus, they offer me great iniurie so rashly to coniecture of my disease, be­fore rightly they haue cast my water. But to put your La­diship out of doubt what is the cause of my dumpes, so it is, that of late raunging the fieldes, my heart (my hawke I should saie Madame) houered at such a princely praie, and yet mist of her flight, that since shee hath neither pruned her selfe, nor I taken anie pleasure. Marie if the fates should so fauour mee, or fortune so shroud me vp in prosperitie, that my desire might obtaine her wish, I would not onely change my mourning to mirth, my dolor to delight, and my care to security, but I would thinke to haue gotten as rich a praie as euer Caesar gayned by conquest.

SVrely Signor Valericus (quoth Melytta) no doubt the praie is p [...]ing princely, since the value thereof is rated at so preciou [...] a price, and therfore we haue neither cause to condemn your hawk of haggardnes, for want of pruning, [Page] nor you of foolishnesse for want of pleasure. And if your heart (your Hawke I should say, Signior Valericus) hath reacht farther with her eye, than she is able to mount with her wing, although I am no skilfull Fawlkner, yet I think you had better kéep her on the fist stil, and so féede her with hope, than let her misse againe of her flight, and so she turnetaile and be foiled.

Indeede Madame (quoth Valericus) your counsaile is very good, for as there is no better confect to a crazed mind, than hope, so there is no greater corasiue to a careful man, than despaire, and the Falkners also iumpe with you in the same verdite, that the Hawke which misseth her pray, is doubtfull to foare aloofe and proue haggard. Yet if she were so tickle, as she would take no stand, so ramage as she would be reclaimed with no lure, I had rather hap­pely hazarde her for the gayning of so péerlesse a pray, though I both lost her, and wanted of my wish, than by keeping her still in the Bines, to proue her a kite, or mee a coward.

Indéed Sir (quoth Castania) Fortune euer fauoureth them that are valiant: and things the more hard, the more haughtie, high and heauenly: neither is any thing hard to bee accomplisht, by him that hardily enterpriseth it. But yet take heede that you fish not so faire, that at length you catch a Frogge, and then repentance make you mumble vp a masse with Miserere.

No Madame (quoth he) it is neuer séene that hée which is contented with his chance, should euer haue cause to re­pent him of his choice.

And yet (quoth she) he that buies a thing too deare, may be content with his chaffer, and yet wish he had been more charie.

Trueth Madame (quoth Valericus) but then it is trash and no treasure, for that which is pretious is neuer ouer­prised, and a bad thing though neuer so cheap, is thought too chargeable.

[Page] Oh Sir (quoth Melytta) and is it not an olde saying, that a man may buy golde too deare, and that iewels though neuer so pretious, may be set at too high a price? I see if you had no better skill in manning of a Hawke, than in making of a bargaine, you would proue but an ill Faulk­ner. But since we haue so long troubled you with our talk, we will nowe leaue you to your sport, and so bid you fare­well.

Valericus with a courteous Conge, repaying their cur­tesie, and with a glauncing eye giuing his goddesse the dolefull A dio, went solitarilie into the secret woodes, where laying him downe in the shade, he fell into these mu­sing meditations:

VVHat greater prosperitie (quoth he) can happē vn­to any earthly wight, than if he be crossed with care, to finde a confect to cure his calamity: than if he be pin­ched with pains, to get a plaister for his passions: if hée bée drenched in distresss, to finde a means to mitigate his mi­serie? which I sée by proofe performed in my séelie selfe: for the sight of my goddesse haue so salued my forepassed sor­rowes, hir sweet words hath so healed my heauie wounds, that where before I was plunged in perplexitie, I am now placed in felicitie: where before I was oppressed with care, I am now refreshed with comfort. O friendly for­tune, if from henceforth thou furiously frowne vpon mee, if thou daunt mee with disaster mishappe, or crosse mée with perpetuall care, yet thus thy friendly courtesie shall bee sufficient to counteruaile all future enormi­ties.

But alas, I see euery prosperous puffe hath his boy­sterous blaste, euery swéete hath his sower, euery weale his woe, euery gale of good lucke, his storme of sinister fortune: yea, euery commoditie his discommoditie annex­ed: the bloud of the Viper is most healthfull for the sight, and most hurtfull for the stomacke, the stone Celonites is [Page] very precious for the back, and very perilous to the braine: the flower of India pleasant to be séene, but whoso smel­leth to it, féeleth present smart: so as the ioy of her presence procureth my delight, the annoy of her absence bréedeth my despight: yea, the feare that she will not repay my loue with liking, and my fancie with affection, that she wil not consent to my request, but rather meanes to stifle mee with the raging stormes of repulse, and daunt me with the doome of deadly dentals, so fretteth my haplesse minde with hel­lish furie, that no plague, no paine, no torment, no torture can worse molest me, than to be distressed with this dread­full despaire.

Alas, her calling is too high for mée to climbe vnto, her royall state is farre aboue my reach, her haughtie minde is too loftie for mée to aspire: no doubt if I offer my sute vn­to her, shée will proue like the stone of Silicia, which the more it is beaten, the harder it is: or like the spices of Ionia, which the more they are pounded the lesse sauour they yield; like to the Isiphilon, which yieldeth forth no iuice though neuer so well brused: so, though I should with neuer so great deuotion offer vp at her Shrine, prayers, promises, sighes, sobs, teares, troth, faith, fréedom, yea, and my heart it selfe, as a pledge to plead for pittie, yet she would make so small account of these my cares, and as little regard my ruth and ruine, as Eriphila did her faithfull friend Infor­tunio.

But oh vile wretch that I am! why doo I thus without cause condemne Castania? Why do I accuse her of cru­eltie, in whom raigneth nothing but curtesie? Why doe I appeach her of coinesse, in whom bountie sheweth small curiousnesse?

How friendly, how familiarly, yea, how faithfully did she talke with me, what a chéerefull countenance did shée carry towards mee, what sodaine glaunces, what loue­ly lookes? which no doubt are signes, that though shee repulse meat the first, shee will not refuse mée at the last: [Page] though she be straight in words, shée will not bée strange in minde: though she giue me some bitter pilles of denyall, it shall bée but for the better tryall. And shall I then béeing fed with this hope proue such a mecocke, or a milkesop, as to be feared with the tempestuous seas of aduersitie, when as at length I shal arriue at the hauen of happy estate? shall I dread to haue my ship shaken with some angrie blastes, hoping to bee safely landed on the shoare, and so haue my share of that, which the showers of shrewd Fortune for a time haue denyed mee? No, no,

Dulcia non meruit, qui non gustavit amara.

Hée is not worthy to sucke the swéete, which hath not first sauoured the sowre: hee is not worthy to eate the kernell which hath not crackt the shel, he deserueth not to haue the crown of victorie, which hath not abid the brunt of the bat­taile: hee meriteth not to possesse the pray, which will not willingly take some part of the pains: Neither is he worthy of so heauenly a Dame as Castania, that would not spend the most preti [...]us bloud in his body, in the pursuite of so peerelesse a piece.

VAlericus thus mitigating his paine with the milde medicine of hope, and rooting out the dead flesh of des­paire with the playster of trust, determined to strike on the Stith while the yron was hot, and so pursue his pur­pose while his mistresse was in her good moode. And ther­fore leauing his sport for this time, highed him to the court in haste: where insinuating himself into the societie of the Ladies and Gentlewomen, hee shewed himselfe in sport so pleasant, in talk so witty, in manners so modest, in conceits so cunning, in parle so pithie, and in all his conuersation so comely, that wheras before he was specially loued of none, now he was generally liked of all: insomuch that for a time there was no talk in the Court but of the Metamorphos [...]s of Valericus minde. Who oftentimes determining in plain tearms to present his suits to Castania, when he came to the [Page] point, fear of offence, and dread of deniall, disappointed his purpose, that hée remained mute in the matter: but at last perceiuing delay bred danger, séeing his mistris sit alone in his presence, houering betwéen fear and hope, he began the assault with this march.

MAdame (quoth hee) for that I sée you sitting thus so­litarie in dumps, I am the bolder to prease in place, although the most vnworthy man to supply it. Hoping you will pardon my rudenesse for troubling thus rashly your musing meditations, and count my company the lesse offensiue in that I sée you busied with no such serious mat­ters whereunto my presence may be greatly preiudiciall. Cyneas the Philosopher, Madam, was of this minde, that when the gods made beautie, they skipt beyond their skill, in that they framed it of greater force than they themselues were able toresist. If then there is none so wise or worthy whom beauty cannot wrack, nor none issued of such prince­ly birth whom beauty cannot bend, though I haue béene intangled with the snare of fancie, and haue listned to the lure of beauty, I am the more to be borne with, and the lesse to be blamed. For I must of force confesse Madame, that the gifts of nature so aboundantly bestowed vpō you, your excellent beauty and exquisite vertue, haue so scaled the walls of my fancie, and sacked the fort of my fréedom, that for my last refuge I am forced to appeale vnto your curtesie, as the onely medicine which may cure my into­lerable disease. Nay incurable I may well call it, for (I speake with teares outwardly, and drops of blood inward­ly) vnlesse the mizling showers of your mercie mittigate the fire of my fancie, the droppes of your princely fauour quench the flame of my affection, and the guerdon of your good will giue a soueraigne plaistor for my secret sore, I am like to passe my life in more miserie, than if I had ta­ken the internall torments. But I hope it is not possible, that out of a sugered Fount would distill a bitter streame, [Page] out of a fragrant flower a filthhy sap, and from such diuine beautie should procéed hate and hellish crueltie.

It is Madame, your beautie which hath wrought my wo, and it is your bountie which must work my weale. It is your heauenly face which hath depriued me of libertie, and your curteous consent must bee the meanes to redéeme me from captiuitie: for as he that eateth of the Brain lease, and is infected, can by no meanes be cured, vnlesse he tasts of the same roote: as hée which is wounded of the Porcu­pins, can neuer bee healed vnlesse his wounds bée washt with the bloud of the same beast: as there is nothing better against the stinging of a Snake, than to be rubbed with an Adders slough, and as he which is hurt of the Scorpion séekes a salue from whom he receiued the sore, so loue onely is remedied by loue, and fancie by mutuall affection: you Madame, must minister the medicine, which procured the maladie, and it onely lies in your power to applie the play­ster which inferred the paine.

Therfore I appeale to your good grace and fauour, and at the barre of your beautie I humbly holde vp my hands, resting to abide your sentence, either of consent vnto life, or deniall vnto death.

CAstania hearing this solemne discourse of Valericus, was driuen into a maze with this vnlookt for motion, musing that hee would so farre ouershoote himselfe, as to attempt so vnlikely a match, and therefore with disdainfull countenance she gaue him this daunt:

AS your present arriuall Signor Valericus dooth not greatly preindice my muses, so I think it will as litle profit your motion: and as your company pleaseth mée re­garding the person, so it much misliketh me, respecting the Parle: that your counts being once cast you shall find your absence might haue more pleasured you, and better conten­ted me. For tis vnpossible Valericus, to call the Fawlcon [Page] to that Lure wherin the pens of a Chameleon are pricked, because she doth deadly detest them, it is hard to traine the Lyon to that trappe which sauoureth of Diagredium, be­cause he loatheth it. And it is as impossible to perswade me to enter league with fancie, which am a mortall foe to af­fection, and to vow my seruice to Venus, which am alrea­die addicted to Diana. No, no sir, I mean not to loue, least I liue by the losse, nor to choose, least my skill being small, I repent my chance. Shee that is frée and willingly run­neth into fetters is a foole, and whoso becommeth captiue without constraint, may be either thought wilfull or wit­lesse. It is good by other mens harmes to learn to beware, and to looke before a man doth leaps, least in skipping be­yond his skill, he light in the mire. Whoso considereth the ficklenesse of mens affections, and the fléeting fondnesse of their fading fancie, who carefully looketh at the lightnesse of their loue, and marketh the inconstancie of their waue­ring minde, who readeth the records which make mention of their deepe dissembling, faithlesse protestations, false vowes, periured promises, fayned loue, and forged flattery: how poore Ariadne was abused, how Medea was mocked, how Dido was deceiued, how Oenone was reiected, and how Phyllis was forsaken, and yet would be allured to the traine with such filthie scraps, I would count her chaunce too good, were her choice neuer so bad. But leauing these necessarie doubts, Valericus, I tel you for troth, if I meant to loue, it is not you I mean to like: if affection forced me, it is not your person I mean to fancie, your patrimony is not sufficient to counteruaile my parentage, nor your bringing vp my birth, and therfore I would wish you to sow the séede of your sute in a more fertile soile, for in me you shall finde no grafts of grant to growe, nor no consent to be cropped, for I neither like of your vnlikely loue, nor mean not to be framed to your fancie.

Valericus beeing pushed with this pike, thought it a signe of small courage to yeeld at the first foyne, and there­fore [Page] looking more narrowly to his ward, and gathering himselfe within his weapon, he stood to his tackling with this reply:

MAdame (quoth he) if you condenm me of folly for clim­bing a staffe too high, or accuse me of fondnesse far lay­ing my loue on a person of such princely parentage, it I seeme to make an ill market in cheaping such precious chaffer, as the price thereof is far aboue my reach, yet my offence is too small to beare anie waightie penance, sith where the fault proceedeth of loue, there the pardon insu­eth of course, but your beautie shall beare all the blame, as the onely spurre of this my rash enterprise. For as it is impossible for the yron to resist the operation of the Ada­mant, or the silly strawe the vertue of the sucking teat, so as impossible it is for a louer to withstand the brunt of beautie, to freeze if he stand by the flame, or to peruert the lawes of Nature. So that Madame if you knew what a breache your beautie hath made into my breast, and bow déepely I haue shrined the idoll of your person in my hap­lesse heart, I assure my self though my person and paren­tage, my birth and bringing vp be far vnfit for such a mate yet you would deeme my loue and loyaltie to deserue no lesse. Loyaltie I call it Madam; for as all things are not made of one mould, so all men are not of one minde: as the Serpentine powder is quickly kindled, and quickly out, so the Salamander stone once set on fire can neuer bee quenched: as the soft ware is apt to receiue euerie impres­sion, so the hard metall neuer changeth form without mel­ting. Iason was neuer so tr [...]uthlesse as Troylus was tru­stie: Paris was neuer more fickle then Pyramus was faith­full: Aeneas was neuer so light as Leander was faithfull And sure Madame, I call the gods to witnesse, I speake without faining, that sith your beautie and vertue eyther by fate or for time is so déeply shrined in my heart, if it please you to accept mée for your slaue or seruant, and admit [Page] mée so farre into your fauour, as that I may fréely enioie the sight of your sweet face, and féed my fancie in the con­templation of your beautie; in liewe therof, I will repaie such dutifull seruice, as the betrothed faith of Erasta to his Persida, shall not compare with the loue of Valericus and Castania.

CAstania hearing these perplexed passions proceed from wofull Valericus, pricked forwarde to take some re­morse of his torments, felt within her minde a carefull con­flict betwéen fancie and the fates, loue & the destinies: fancy perswaded her to take pittie of his paines, the fates forced her to giue him the repulse: loue wisht her to return his goodwil with gaine, the destinies draue her to deny his request: tossed thus with contrary cogitations, at last she burst forth into these doubtfull spéeches.

VAlericus, as I am not altogether to reward thy good­will with hate, so I cannot repaie it with loue, be­cause fancie denies me to like: to marry I meane not, to retaine seruants I may not. Marie, to let thee eyther to loue, or looke, take this for an answere, I neyther can nor will.

And with that shée went her way, leauing Valericus greatly daunted with this doubtfull answere, with feare and hope so fiercely assayled, that being left alone, he began thus to consider of his amorous conceits.

IF euer wofull creature had cause to complain his wofull ease, then vndoubtedly may I preace for the formost place: for there is no sorrow more sower, no torment more terri­ble, no grief more grieuous, no heauinesse more hurtfull, than to haue desire requited with despight, and good will with hate, then to like vpon hope of curtesse, and to finde no­thing but hate and hellish crueltie.

Alas poore Valericus, is thy true loue thus triflingly [Page] accounted of, is this the guerdon for thy good will? Deoth thy deepe desire merite no better desert, then hast thou no choice, but eyther to dye desperately, or else to liue loath­somly? Why fond foole doest thou count her cruell, that at the first giues not a frée consent? Doest thou think her coie that commeth not at the first call, wouldest thou haue the match made at the first motion? She that is wonne with a word will bee lost with a winde, the Hawke that bates at euery cast of the Lure, will neuer bee stedfast on the stonde, the woman that frameth her will to euery wish will proue but a wilde wanten. No, no, Valericus, let not her denials daunt thée, let not the sower taste of her talke quat thy queaste stomacke, conster all things at the best, though her censure was very seuere, yet shee knit vp her talke with a curteous close. The hound which at the first default giueth ouer the chase, is called but a curre. The Knight that finding the first encounter combersom, giueth ouer the quest, is counted but a coward, and the louer that at the first denyall is daunted with despayre, is neyther worthy to obtaine his desire, nor to enioy his desert. And with that he flung out of his Chamber, both to auoid the melancholy which tormented his minde, and sée if he could haue a sight of his goddesse.

But Castania altogether vnwilling to parle with her new patient, kept herselfe out of his sight: which Valeri­cus espying, was no whit amazed, but like a valiant souldi­our gaue the fort a fresh assault with a new kinde of batte­rie, séeking to obtaine that with writing, which he could not gaine with words, and therefore spéedily framed a let­ter to this effect.

[Page] Valericus hauing thus finished his Letter, sent it with as much spéede as might be by his Page to Castania, who fin­ding her at conuenient leasure, with most reuerent dutie deliuered it. Castania at the first sight coniecturing the con­tents, with scornful looks and disdainfull countenance vn­ripped the seales, where séeing and reading his déep deuo­tion shee perceiued that his affection was no lesse in déede, than he professed in word: she notwithstanding would take no remorse of his torment, but to driue him more into dole­full dumpes, she returned him this damp.

[Page] VAlericus hauing receiued this rigorous Letter from ruthlesse Castania, séeing with what great disdain she reiected his dutifull deuotion, and how with coy counte­nance and lowring lookes, she rewarded his loyall loue, hée began with reason some what to represse his rage, and with wisedome to redresse his witlesse folly: for comparing her crueltie with his owne curtesie, and her wilfull disdaine with his willing duty, his disordinate desire began not only to decay, but his extreame loue turned to extream hate, in­somuch that forced with despight, he sent her (in reuenge) these raging lines.

CAstania no sooner had read these despitefull lines of Valericus, but her minde sried with the flames of fu­rie, and her breast broyled with raging wrath, in such sort, that she could not be in quiet nor take any rest, shée busied her selfe so carefully in studying with what kinde of re­uenge shée might best wreake her wrath vpon him, and re­quite his spitefull spéeches. At last womanlike, shee found her tongue the best weapon, and with that she plagued him in this sort.

VAlericus his heart was so hardened with hate, as he was nothing dismaied with this rigorous reply, but thought himselfe halfe satisfied, that hee had thus kindly toucht her to the quicke, praying the gods, that sith it was not in his possibilitie to make any sufficient reuenge, they would by some sinister meanes requite her cruelty. But leauing him to his dumps, at last to Gwydonius, who be­sides the beautie of his body, and the bounty of his minde (wherat all Alexandria wondered) had by good gouern­ment and perfect practice, obtained such a dexterity in all things, as in feates of arms no man more forward, in ex­ercise none more actiue, in play none more politicke, in parle none more pleasant: amongst the Auncients verie wise, amongst the youthfull who more merry? so that there was no time, person, nor place, whereto aptly hee applyed not himselfe: insomuch that hee entred into such fauour and familiarity with Thersandro & Castania, that he was the onely man whose company they desired to en­ioy. But especially Castania, who by casting a gazing glaunce sometime vppon the beautie of Gwydonius, [Page] felt a certaine restraint of libertie in her affections, an al­teration of minde, and as it were a ciuile assault within her selfe: but hauing small practice in the panges of loue, she could not coniecture the secret cause of these her sodain passions, thinking that as it was a toye lightly taken, so it would as lightly be left: and vpon this, still shee rested, conceiuing onely an ordinary kinde of liking towardes Gwydonius.

Who bathing thus in the streames of blisse, and safe­ly harboured in the hauen of happinesse, wanting nothing which might content his minde, eyther for pleasure or profit, thought it a point of mecre folly eyther to séeke or wish for more than inough, knowing that to straine further than the sléeue would stretch, was but to make the arme bare, and to skippe beyond a mans skill, was to leape, but not to knew where to light: to auoide therfore hasti­nesse in hazarding, he fell a slumbering in the carelesse seat of securitie.

But as it is impossible for a man to sléepe by the Viper and not bée inuenomed, to gaze vpon the Cockatrice and not be infected, to stare vpon the Sunne and not bee daze­led, to looke vpon Medusas head and not be transformed, to wade in the waues and not be drenched, to handle coalss and not be scorched: so it was as impossible for yong Gwy­donius to gaze vpon the beauty of Castania and not be gal­led, to sixe his eyes vpon her feature and not be fettered, to sée her vertuous qualities and not be inueigled: for her curtesie had so encountred him, her modesty had so ama­zed him, and her chary chastity so inchaunted him, that whereas he came to Orlanio his Court frée from affection, he was now become a seruile slaue to fancie; before a foe to lust, now a friend to loue; yes, he felt such an alienation of his senses, and such a strange Metamorphosis of his minde, as reason was turned to rage, mirth to mourning, ioy to annoy, delight to despight, weale to woe, blisse to hale: in fine, such contrary passions so perplexed this doubt­full [Page] Patient, as maugre his face hée yéelded the forte to fancie, and puld in the former flagge of defiance, intreated for truce, and began to enter parle with Cupide on this manner.

O Gwydonius (quoth hée) what strange chaunce, nay what rare chaunge, what solemne motion, nay, what sodaine madnesse, what foolish frenzie, or rather what frautike affection hath possessed thee? Is thy lawlesse li­berty turned to a slauish captiuitie? Is thy fréedome fet­tered? Are thy senses besotted? Is thy wit inueigled? Wert thou of late a defier of Venus, and art thou now a defender of vanity? Didst thou of late renounce beauty as a foe, and wilt thou now embrace her as a friend? Is this the carefull kéeping of thy fathers commaundement? Or is this thy diligent duty in obseruing the counsaile of thy olde sire Clerophontes? Hast thou so soon forgot his father­ly precepts, or committed to obliuion his friendly aduer­tisement? Did hee carefully warne shee to beware of loue, and wilt thou carelesly wed thy selfe to lust? Did hee shewe thee what poysoned bane is hidden vnder the painted baytes of beauty, and wilt thou bee haled to the hooke?

O haplesse case: nay rather, if the chary charge thy fa­ther gaue thee, will bée no constraint, if his counsaile will not commaund thée, if his warning will not make thee wary, nor his aduise be thy aduisement: yet let imminent perils, and insuing dangers be a precious preseruatiue a­gainst future calamities. Cōsider with thy selfe Gwydo­nius, what difference is betwéen fréedom and bondage, be­twéene liberty and captiuitie, mirth and mourning, plea­sure and paine, rest and care, happinesse and heauinesse: and so far doth hee which is frée from affection, differ from him which is fettered in fancie.

Why but Gwydonius, why doest thou thus reckles­ly rage, against reason? Why dooest thou thus fondly ex­claime [Page] against thine owne welfare? Why dooest thou condemne thy selfe of that crime whereof thou art not guil­tie?

Thy Father warned thee to beware of sickle fancie: but this thy liking is firm affection. His counsaile was to perswade thee from lewd lust, but not from lawfull loue, from vanitie, not from vertue: yea, his will was to wishe thée from liking such a lewd miniō, who had neither birth, wealth, nor vertue, but a little fading beauty to be either her credite or thy countenance, not to warne thee from lo­uing such a chast maiden, nay, a péerlesse Princesse, whose birth may countenance thy calling, whose power may pro­mote thee, whose liuinges may inrich thée, whose vertue may aduance thée: yea, in obtaining whom, thou shalt gain both honour, and perhappes the inheritance of a Duke­dome.

Doest thou thinke then Gwydonius, in winning so wor­thy a péece, to purchace thy fathers displeasure? nay assure thy selfe hee will not onely be content with thy chance, but hee will thinke thou hast runne a happier race, than Hyppomanes did in winning Atlante. Content thée w^c thy chance. Why Gwydonius, art thou so fond a foole, as to count the Castle conquered, that as yet thou hast not com­passed: to suppose the Citie sacked, which thou hast not be­sieged: to think the Bulwarke beaten, which as yet thou hast not battered: or to count the Lady wonne, whome as yet thou hast not wooed? Nay Gwydonius, if thou weigh thy case in the equal ballance, thou hast more cause of feare than of hope; of doubt than of assurance, of missing thy pre­tence, than of obtayning thy purpose.

The Faulkon (Gwydonius) seldome pearketh with the Merline, the Lyon seldome lodgeth with the Mouse, the Hart seldome féedeth with the Pricket, Aquila non capit Muscas, and a Dame indued with Nobilitie, vouchsafeth not to match with a man of meane gentility. Of meane gentilitie Gwydonius? Yea truely, for Castania rather [Page] thinketh thee sprong of some poore peasant, than of anyprincely personage.

Besides, alas, Fortune her selfe denieth me any such fauour: my good will as yet hath deserued no such guerdon, my desire is farre aboue my desertes, my ambition aboue my condition, and the poor stay of wandering Gwydonius, farre vnfit for the princely state of worthy Castania. But put case she did will as I did, wish that shee were pricked in the same veine, caught in the same snare, trapped with the like traine, and fired with the like fancy, yet the Duke her father will neither condescend to her minde, nor con­sent to my motion, neither thinke well of her liking nor of my loue: nay if he should but once heare of such recklesse folly, as he hath wrought my promotion, so he would work my confusion, as he hath béen my friend, so he woulde bée my foe, and in troth Gwydonius, not without cause. For art thou so voyd of vertue, or vowed to vice, so nursed vp in vanity, or nulled vp in villany, as to require his libe­ralitie with such disloyaltie, to returne the trust which he reposeth in thée, with such treason. Tush, Loue is aboue Lord or Lawe, friend or faith. Where Loue leadeth, no maister is made account of, no king cared for, no friend forced of, no duty respected, but all things done according to the qualitie that is predominant. Why Gwydonius, what doubts are these that thou thus dreamest on? Why doest thou cast beyonde the Moon, and fear before thou art in daunger to fall? knowing that Loue and fortune desi­reth not them that are dastards, nor careth for them that are cowardes. The Captaine that retyreth from the walles before hée hath the repulse, shall neuer returne a conquerour, the Souldiour that fainteth before the bat­taile be fought, shall neuer vaunt himselfe of victorie. Hée that feareth euery tempest is not fit to be a trauailer. Hée that doubteth euery waue shall neuer proue a perfect Pi­lot, and he that in loue dreadeth euery chip of mischaunce, may well encoounter, but neuer obtaine the conquest. [Page] Sith then Gwydonius, hardy venturing is a signe of hap­py victory, sound out the march with the trumpet of trust, begin the assault, giue the onset. Laie the battering pée­ces of Loue, against the bulwarke of beautie, and no doubt thy successe shall be such as thou shalt triumph with Caesar and say, Veni, Vidi, Vici. And art thou so presumptuous fond foole, as to promise thy selfe the conquest? knowest thou not that the path of loue is perilous? And with that he fell into such melancholie passions, such contrary cogi­tations, such doubtfull thoughts, such fearefull supposes, that as hée which eateth of the Goorde roote loseth his me­morie, and as the Elephant when he eateth of the Helitro­pion leafe, is then very sléepie; so Gwydonius was so per­plexed with these vnacquainted passions, that contrarie to his custome he had driuen myrth into mourning, pleasant conceits into painfull cares, laughing into lowring, sin­ging into sorrow: and being thus besotted, to solace himself he went into a Parke adioyning to the Dukes Palace, where sitting vnder the shade of a Béech trée, leaning his head on his hand, he lay as one in a slumber. But Fortune willing somewhat to fauour this young nouice, brought it to passe, that Thersandro, Valericus, Castania, and Me­lytta, with diuerse other Gentlemen, were for recrea­tion sake ranging in the same Park: who espying ghostly Gwydonius, sitting as one in a trance, Castania passing be­fore the rest, pulling him by the sléeue, draue him thus out of his dump.

VVHy how now Gwydonius (quoth shee) are you dreaming or doubting, or is your mind musing vpō som metaphysicall motions, that you sit thus as a man half mortified? Your solemn gesture makes me remember the picture of Pigmalion, which once I sawe portraied out by a skilfull Painter, who leaning his head on his Marble mistres (that so vnfainedly he loued) sat with his eies as one in a slumber, hauing his face notwithstanding so bedewed [Page] with brutish teares, as his outward plaints did sufficiently bewray his inward passions. In truth Gwydonius, I had taken thee for Pigmalion, if thou hadst had tears, as thou wert in a trance; for thou doest not greatly differ from him neither in countenance nor colour: well if it were but a dreame Gwydonius, that thus cumbred thy conscience, or a doubt that made thée thus dumpith, I will diuine the one if it be not too dark, or decide the other if it be not too secret: marry if the case bee cumbersome, I leaue it to the iudge­ment of these Gentlemen.

GWydonius, wakened out of his musing slumber with this sugred harmony, séeing before his eyes his gorge­ous goddesse, the very saint, at whose shrine hee was offe­ring vp scalding sighes, far fetcht sobs, plaints, prayers, and protestations, was so appald with her presence, that as the Basilisk loseth his senses with the sight of a naked man, as the Toretoise séeing y^t North star is benummed, & as the Hermeline looking on the stone Echites is greatly amazed; so Gwydonius séeing the incomparable beauty of his best beloued Castania, was so astonished, yea so inchanted with the rare perfectiō of this heauenly Pallas, that as one besot­ted he sate senselesse, not being able to vtter one word; vntil at length reuiued with the view of hir chéerful countenance he repaid her with this pleasant answere.

MAdame (quoth hee) whereas iestingly you say, that at the first sight you had taken me for perplexed Pigma­lion by my pittifull plaints and carefull countenance, but that I wanted trickling tears to decipher my sorrow; I an­swer, that wo may very well be without watry waylings: for when the stone Garatides fryeth without, it fréezeth within, the Germander leafe when it is most full of moy­sture, looketh then most drie, where the streame is most déepe there it is most still, and where is the smallest shewe of teares, there is the greatest signe of sorrowe. And also [Page] I call the heauens to witnesse, that when you wakened me out of my dreame by your diuine eloquence, I took you either for beauty to bée Venus, for comelinesse to bee Pallas, or for port and honour to be Iuno, so that both your presence and curtesie daunted my minde; your presence in dazeling my eyes so sodainly with so solemn a sight, your curtesie, in that your Ladiship without curiositie would vouchsafe to talk with so meane a Gentleman. But Madame, sith that I perceiue your skill in diuination to bée great, in that you made so cunning a coniecture, and without anie great ayming, so rightly hitte the marke; to put you out of doubt, I confesse I was both in a dreame and a doubt, wherein sith it pleaseth your honour to take so much paine, I will craue your ayde to diuine the one, and decide the o­ther.

Castania, hearing the surmized dreame of Gwydonius, both smelled the fetch, and smiled at the folly of this young youth, knowing that these fantasticall visions and presup­posed passions, would in time (if hée tooke not héed) proue but too true: to preuent therfore such imminent perils, shée nipt her yong nouice on the pate with this parle.

GGydoniu [...] (quoth shee) I haue listened to thy drousie dream, with déep deuotion; by so much the more desi­rous atttentiuely to heare it, by how much the more I find it strange and wonderfull: yea, so strange, as if I my selfe had not wakened thee out of thy slumber, I would eyther haue thought it a fained vision, or a fantasticall inuention: but sith these Gentlemen here present, and mine owne eyes are witnesses, and thine owne tongue a testimony of thy talk; suffice I beléeue it, though I cannot diuine it: to giue a verdite where the euidence is not vnderstood, is vanity: to yéeld a reason of an vnknowne case, is meere folly: and to interpret so strange a dreame without great practice, is but to skip beyond my skill, and to lie fast in the mire. Yet, least I might séeme to promise much & per­form nothing, I wil decide your doubt, if you please to take my doom for a censure.

It is a saying Gwydonius, not so common as true, that the hasty man neuer wants woe, and that hee which is rash without reason, seldome or neuer sloepeth without re­pentance. To venture amidst the Pikes when perilles cannot bée eschewed, is not fortitude but folly: to hazarde in daungers, when death insueth, is not to bee worthily minded, but wilfully mooued. Vertue alwaies consisteth betwéen extreamities, that as too much fearefulnesse is the signe of a quaking coward, so too much rashnes be tokeneth a desperate Ruffian. Manhood Gwydonius consisteth in measure & worthinesse, in fearing to hazard without hope. [Page] But to giue a verdit by thine owne voyce, I perceiue thou art guilty of the same crime: for when the brittlenesse of the bridge portended, and the surging seas inferred losse of life, yet desire draue thée to aduenture so desperate a dan­ger.

Better it is Gwydonius, to liue in griefe, then to dye desperately without grace: better to choose a lingering life in misery, then a spéedy death without mercie: better to be tormented with haplesse fancy, then with hellish fiends: for in life it is possible to represse calamity, but after death neuer to redresse misery. Tully Gwydonius in his Tuscu­lans questions, discoursing of the happinesse of life and hea­uinesse of death, sayth, that to liue we obtaine it of the lo­uing gods, but to dye, of the vnlucky destinies: meaning hereby, that life though neuer so loathsome, is better then death, though neuer so welcome: whereby I conclude Gwydonius, that to liue earefully, is better then to die de­sperately.

Gwydonius perceiuing that Castanias parle was no­thing to the purpose, and that shée toucht not that point wherof he desired most to be absolued, but meant to shake him off with a sléeuelesse answere, began to drawe her to the Trap with this traine.

MAdame Castania (quoth hée) I confesse that rashnesse neuer raigneth without repentance, nor hastie ha­zarding without haplesse harmes, that hée which aduentu­reth desperate dangers is a foole, and he that passeth ineui­table perils is worse then an Asse: yet from these so gene­rall rules, Madame, I exempt these particular exceptions, namely Loue and Necessitie, which two are tyed within no bounds, nor limited within no law, for whom the diuell driues hée must néedes runne, be the passage neuer so peril­lous: and whom Loue or Necessity forceth, hee must ven­ture bee the daunger neuer so desperate: for as there is no enterprise so easie, which to an vnwilling man seemeth not [Page] very hard to be atchieued, so there is no encounter so cum­bersome where will wisheth, that séemeth not passing ea­sie to bee performed: now this will is with nothing sooner pricked forward, than eyther with the force of loue, or sting of necessity. So that whosoeuer aduentureth in a daunger, though neuer so desperate, is not to be blamed, if inforced by fancy, or incouraged by affection; and especially where the perill is in possibility to bee passed without death, and in the performance thereof, the possession of such a prize as the passionate person more estéemeth than lands, limbs, or life it selfe, be it neuer so swéet. In which case (Madame) my cause consisteth. For the Lady who was an heauenly obiect to my gazing eyes, was so beautified with the giftes of nature, and so perfectly polished with more than natu­rall perfection, that with the onelie view of such diuine beautie, my senses were so besotted, my wit and will so inueigled, my affection so inflamed, and my fréedome so fet­tered: yea, loue alreadie hath made so great a breach into the bulwarke of my breast, that to obtaine so gorgious a Goddesse, I thought death no daunger, though neuer so direfull, nor losse of life no torment, though neuer so terri­ble.

Indéed Gwydonius, (quoth Thersandro) I agrée with thée in this point, that there is no carpet Knight so co­wardly, that would not passe more perillous pikes to pos­sesse so liuely a Dame as thou doest decipher, nor no da­starde so daunted with dreade, which woulde not greatly indanger himselfe to enioy so louely a damsell, in the fruiti­on of whome consisteth nothing but ioy, blisse, rest, con­tentation of minde, delight, happinesse, yea, all earchly felicity.

And yet Sir (quoth Gwydonius) your Sister Casta­nia condemnes me of folly, in venturing for so precious a prize; when as hope perswaded me, that no hazard could be haplesse, and assured me that Loue and Fortune fauou­reth them that are bolde: that the gods themselues seeing [Page] my perplexed passions, wold of pitty defend me from those perilous daungers. For if Theseus by Diuine power, were ayded against the force of the monstrous Minotaure; or if Iason, who constrayned with a couetous desire to ob­taine the golden Fléece, arriuing at Colchos, was preser­ued by the gods, from the dint of the deadly Dragons, no doubt Iupiter himselfe would eyther haue made the flag­gering bridge more strong (considering that no hope of wealth, no desire of riches, no gréedinesse of gaine, no loue of luere, but beauty her selfe was the victorie I meant to vaunt off) or else if I had sowled in the roaring Seas, hee would haue prouided som happy Dolphin, that Arion like, I might arriue at the desired Rock: and then my daungers should haue béene turned into delight, my perils into plea­sures, my hazarding into happinesse: yea, I should haue possessed that heauenly paragon, and enioyed the loue of that louely Venus, whose onely sight were a sufficient salue against all forepassed sorrowes.

Stay there, Master Gwydonius, quoth the Lady Me­lytta: for I sée, to graunt one false proposition, is to open a doore to innumerable absurdities, and that by suffring you too long, of these supposed premises you will inferre some cauilling conclusion to your former reasons: thus I reply, That I confesse necessity to haue no law, but I grant not the same of Loue: for if it be lawlesse, it is lewde: if with­out limits, lasciuious: if contained within no boundes, beastly: if obserued with no order, odious: so that lawlesse Loue without reason, is the very Load stone to ruth and ruine.

Sith then Master Gwydonius, as your selfe affirme, this was the pricke that pusht you into perill, how can the effect be good, when the cause was naught? or how can you clarkely defend your desperate motion, proceeding of such a fond and foolish occasion. But it was the perfection of her comely person, her exquisite feature, and rare beautie, that so kindled thy desire, and so bewitched thy senses: for who [Page] is so fearefull, that beautie will not make bolde? who so doubtfull, that beauty will not make desperat? yea, what so hard that a man will not hazard, to obtaine so diuine a thing, as beauty.

Oh Gwydonius, hast thou not heard that the Fish Re­mor [...] listening to the sound of a Trumpet is caught of the Fishers, that while the Porcupine standeth staring at the glimmering of the starres, hée is ouertaken with dogges, that the Deere gazing at the bowe is striken with the bolt, that the Leopard looking at the Panthers painted skinne, is taken as a praie, and that hee which taketh too much de­light to gaze vpon beauty, is oftentimes galled with griefe and misery? Yea, his pleasure shall inferre such profit, and his good will such gain, as if he reapt the beautifull apples of Tantalus, which are no sooner toucht, but they turne to ashes.

Beauty, Gwydonius, no sooner flourisheth but it fadeth, and it is not fully ripe before it begin to rot: it no sooner blossometh, but it withereth, and scarcely being toucht it staineth, like to the Guyacum leafe, that hath the one halfe parched, before the other halfe be perfect: to the bird Acan­this, which hatched white, yet turneth blacke at the first storm: or like to the stone Astites, that chaungeth colour with the onely breath of a man.

If then Gwydonius, beautie bée so fading, so fickle, so momentary, so mouing, so withering, so waning, so soone passed, and so soone parched: is this the Iewell, which you count more deare than life? and the Gemme which you think worthy to bée purchased with the danger of death? No doubt Gwydonius, if you won the victory, you might vaunt of a great conquest, and if your long hope were re­payed with a great hap, it should be much like to his, which thinking to embrace Iuno, caught nothing but a vanishing cloude.

You do well Madame (quoth Castania) to put an If, in it, because he that vaunteth of victory before he hath wonne [Page] fielde, may proue himselfe a foole: hee that brags of gaines before the accounts be cast, may perhappes put his win­nings in his eies: and he that bloweth the Mort before the fall of the Buck, may verie well misse of his sées: so he that countes himselfe a spéeder before hee be a wooer, sheweth himselfe a vaine person or a vaunting patch.

Might it not be I pray you Master Gwydonius, that passing the bridge, scaping the dangerous seas; and happily arriuing at the desired Rocke, yet you might misse of your purpose? Yes forsooth: for many a man bendeth his bowe, that neuer killeth his game, layeth the strap that neuer catcheth the fowle, pitcheth the Net that neuer getteth the fish, and long time are heauie wooers that neuer proue hap­pie spéeders.

So perhaps Gwydonius, you might be crossed with a chip of the same mischance, and the gorgious Dame whom you adore for a Goddesse, might repaie your liking with loathing, your loue with hate, your good will with despite, and your fixed fancie with small affection, either that shee liked you too little, or loued another too much. All these doubtes Gwydonius, are carefully to be cast, & wisedome it is to feare the worst, and finde the best: but you sir, like a lustie champion, thinke a Ladie wonne at the first looke, and the good wil of women gained at the first glance, think­ing the Gods themselues are to be accused of iniustice, if they be not ayders to your enterprise, insomuch that if in ventring ouer the perillous passage, you had by disaster Fortune fallen into the dangerous Seas, you doubtes not but that Iupiter would haue sent a Dolphin; that Arion like, you might escape the fearefull surges: but Gwydoni­us be not so ventrous, least though you harpe verie long, you get not the like hap. These premisses considered, if my censure might stande for a sentence, I déeme it better to be counted a dastardly coward, than a desperate caitife, better to forsake your Goddesse, than your God, better to liue pinched with a fewe momentarie passions, than with [Page] desperate death to destroy both soule and bodie: for there is no sore such, which in time may not be salued, no care such which cannot be cured, no fire so great which may not be quenched, no loue, liking, fancie, or affection, which in time may not either be repressed, or redressed.

Valericus hearing this rough reply of Castania, suppo­sed that although she leuelied at Gwydonius, yet she shot at him: and scaring the fort should be too much shaken with this fierce assault, hee stifly desended the walles with this fresh alarum.

Madame (quoth he) I sée you will sit nigh the walles creyou be thrust out for a wrangler, and that you will speake against your owne conscience, but you will haue the con­quest: for my owne part Madame, howsoeuer I séeme to like it, I will not saie I mislike it, but I am sorie you Ma­dame Melytta should so blasphemously imblaze the armes of beautie, and so recklesly raile against the sacred lawes of loue: take héed for crossing Cupid so crabbedly; for thogh he forgiue and forget, Venus is a woman, and will seeke reuenge.

Valericus (quoth shée) take no care what daunger I incurre for speaking the trueth. If I chaunce to bee har­med, it is mine owne mishappe, and for Venus reuenge I care for it the lesse, because I feare it not: if I speake a­gainst my selfe, you may sée I am the fitter to be a Iudge, because I am not partiall, nor haue any respect of per­sons.

These quips Madame (quoth Gvvydonius) are nothing to the purpose: therfore in the behalfe of my selfe and beau­tie, thus I answere; That as there is nothing that so soone procureth a man to loath, as deformitie, so there is nothing which sooner procureth a man to loue than beautie: for the most precious stone is chosen by the most glistring hew, the purest gold by the most perfect colour, the best fruit by the brauest blossomes, and the best conditions by the swée­test [Page] countenance: so that where beautie raigneth, there vertue remaineth, and vnder a faire face resteth a faithfull heart▪ Sith then beautie and bountie cannot bee parted, what man is he so brutish, whom the least of these will not breake or bend?

And whereas you condemne me of vanitie in vaunting before the victorie, I saie, that if Fortune had so fauoured me, that I had gained the presence of my Goddesse, I wold neuer haue doubted to haue obtained my desire: for if shee had séene the desperate daunger which I aduentured, and the fearefull perils which I passed for her sake, shee could not but of conscience, repaie my loue with vnfained loyal­tie, and my good will with trobble gaine. And in troth I thinke it vnpossible, that such heauenly beautie should bée eclipsed with crueltie, and such perfect comelinesse bee ble­misht with curious coynesse.

Why Gwydonius (quoth she) doest thou call it crueltie not to condescend to the request of euerie one that wooeth? or doest thou tearme it coynesse, not to yéeld to the assault of euerie flattering louer? Then in my iudgment, it were good for euerie woman to be both cruell and coie, that by crueltie she might auoide the traine of trothlesse wooers, & by coynesse eschue the troupe of faithlesse sutors.

And so Madame (quoth Valericus) she should reape small comfort and lesse credit.

Tush Signor Valericus (quoth Gwydonius) it pleaseth her thus merilie to iest, whereas I know she doth account more of a curteous dame, than of a curious damsell, and that her Ladiship so detesseth the name of crueltie, that she would be loth to be thought to haue a mind deuoid of mer­cie. And in troth to leaue these particular instances, wo­men in generall, or for the most part, are bountifull, curte­ous, sober, chaste, demure, not imbrued with vice, but in­dued with vertue: so that by how much womens bodies are weaker than mens, by so much their mindes are more strong and vertuous.

[Page] What Gwydonius, (quoth shee) doe you thinke to be a frée man in Wales. for affering a Léeke to Saint Dauie, or to bring PAN into a fooles Paradise by praysing his Pipe?

Not so Madame (quoth hee) but I hope in extolling a souldiours life to haue Saint George to my friend, and in giuing verdit with Venus, to gaine her good will, and to reape the reward that Paris had for his censure.

Mary sir (quoth Castania) if you haue no better gettings you may gaine long inough, and yet liue by the losse: for in obtaining one friend, you shall reape two foes, as Paris did, who was more plagued by Pallas and Luno, than plea­sured by flattering Venus.

And yet Madame (quoth hée) his mishap shall not make mée to beware: for if Venus would grant me but one La­dy in the world, whom most intirely I loue, I would ney­ther respect Pallas, luno, nor Diana her selfe, were shee neuer so despitefull.

Yes but you would (quoth shée) if she pinched you but with Acteons plague, to pester your head with as many horns as a Hart: It would cause you coniecture your new mistresse were too much giuen to the game, or that you were come from Cornet [...]o by descent.

Tush Madame (quoth hée) doe you count Acteons hap such a great harme? she onely sight in séeing Diana naked, was a recompence for all his insuing sorrowes: and if my selfe might inioy my wish, and obtaine the heauenly dame that so heartily I desire, the plague of Acteon, nay, the griping griefes the ghostly spirites doe suffer, should not counteruaile the ioy I should conceiue in inioying so péer­lesse a iewell.

Truly (quoth Thersandro) thou art worthy Gwydo­nius, to bée a Chapman, that thou bidst so well for thy chaffer: and in my mind shee is not in Alexandria, who for her beautie is so to bee loued, or at the least would déeme thee not worthy to be liked. But leauing these amorous [Page] discourses, let vs hie vs in hast to the Court, least in tary­ing, Orlanio misse vs, and so we bée shent. The company obeyi [...] the minde of Thersandro, passed as spéedily as might be to the Palace, were being arriued, they departed euery man to his own lodging.

Castania had no sooner conuried her selfe closely into her chamber, but her mind was moued with a thousand sundry motions, and she felt such a cruell conflict in her happelesse heart by the assault of diuers contrary passions, that how stoutly soeuer shée defended the walls, shée found her force too weake to resist the rage of so recklesse a tyrant. Nowe the prayers Valericus powred forth came to effect, nowe Venus meant to be reuenged for the cruelty she vsed to hir valiant captaine Valericus, who so valiantly had fought vnder the flagge of affection, & yet could by no meanes pre­uaile. For Castania hearing the sugred eloquence, which so swéetly flowed from the sappie wit of Gwydonius, fra­ming in her fancie the form of his face, and printing in her heart the perfection of his person, was so intangled in the snares of loue, as she could by no reason redresse her mise­rie, but wil she, nil she, fell into these bitter complaints.

ALas witlesse wretch (quoth shée) that I am, what flry flames of fancie doo frie within mée? VVhat desire, what lust, what hope, what trust, what care, what despair, what feare, what furie? That to be pained with these per­plexed passions, to me that neuer felt the force of them be­fore, is no lesse dolour than death it self, be it neuer so dire­full. O gods, where are now become those lofty lookes I vsed to Valericus? Where is the disdainfull dealings, the coy countenances, the curious congies, the causelesse cru­elty, yea the hard heart, which so rigorously reiected the loue of him, which so intirely liked mée? Coulde I fond foole that I am, valiantly withstand the assaultes of a worthie Gentleman, and shall I cowardly yeeld to an vn­knowne stranger? Did I loath him, whose parentage was [Page] little inferiour to mine, and shall I loue another of base and vile birth? Did I disdaine to looke at the lure, and shall I now stoope without stall, come without call, yea and to such an emptie fist▪ O lawlesse Loue, O witlesse will, O fancie, fraught full of frenzie and furie! Alas if I should be so carelesse as to consent to this frantike toie, what will they say, that praised me for my vertue? Will they not as fast dispraise me for my vanitie? Will not my father fret, my kinsfolkes crie out, my friends be sorrie, my foes and especially Valericus, laugh me to scorne, and triumph of this my mishappe? Yea, will not all the world wonder to sée me alate giuen to chastitie, and now shake hands with virginitie, to yéeld my dearest iewell and chiefest treasure into the hands of a stragling stranger, who came to my fa­thers court without countenance or coine, wealth or wor­ship, credit or calling: yea, who by his owne report is but a person of small parentage, Seek then Castania to asswage this flame, and to quench this fire, which as it commeth wthout cause so it will consume without reason. For the greatest flowe hath the soonest ebbe, the sorest tempest hath the most sodaine calme, the hottest loue hath his coldest end, and of the deepest desire oft times insueth the deadliest hate: so that shee which settles her affection with such speede as she makes her choise without discretion, may cast her corne she knowes not where, and reapes she wot not what, and for her hastie choosing, may perhaps get a heauy bargaine. Alas, I know this counsaile is good, but what then? Can I deny that which the destinies haue decréed? Is it in my power to peruert that which y^e Planets haue pla­ced? Can I resist that which is stirred vp by the Starres? No: what neede I then make this exclamation? sich I am not the first nor shall not bee the last, whome the frantike frenzy of flickering fancy, hath with more wrōg & greater vantage pitiously oppressed. What though Gvvydonius be not wealthy, yet hée is wise: though hee be not of great parentage, yet he is of comely personage. It is not his [Page] coine that hath conquered me, but his countenance: not his vading riches, but his renowmed vertues, and I far more estéeme a man than mony. I, but the Duke my father is not so base minded, as to bestow me vpon so meane a gen­tleman, he neuer will consent that poore Gwydonius shold inioy that which he hopeth some péerelesse Prince shall possesse. What then? Shall I preferre my Fathers will before mine owne will, his liking before mine owne loue? no, no, I will choose for my selfe whatsoeuer my choise be. Why but perchance Gwydonius wil no more estéeme thee than thou didst Valericus, and repay thee with as small fancie, as thou him with affection. Tush, doubt it not Ca­stania, thou art the dame which hee so deciphered in his dreame, thou art that Venus which hee saw in his vision, thou art that Goddesse, whose beautie hath so bewitched him thou art that iewell to possesse, the which there is no hap so hard which he would not hazard, no danger so despe­rate which he would not aduenture, no burthen so heauy which he would not beare, nor no perill so huge which hée would not passe. And shall not then Gwydonius be my ser­uant, sith I am his Saint? shal not I like him which loueth me? sith he is my ioy, shal I not inioy him? yes, Gwydonius is mine, and shall be mine in despite of the fales & fortune.

Castania hauing thus pitifully powred out her plaints, would gladly haue giuen Gwydonius intelligence (with modestie if she might) of her good will towards him, and God knowes how fain Gwydonius wold haue discouered his feruēt affectiō, if too much feare had not astonished him, and too great bashfulnes staied her. She therfore honering betwéen feare & hope, perseuered so long in her pensiue pas­sions [...]nd carefull cogitatiōs, that by couert concealing of her inward sorrow, the flame so furiously fried wthin her, y^t she was constrained to kéep her bed. Whereupon, Melytta coniecturing the cause of her care by the colour of her coū ­tenance, thought to fift out the occasion of her sorrow, that by this meanes she might apply a medicine to her malady, [Page] and finding fit opportunitie, shée brake with her in this wise.

Madams Castania (quoth shée) since I haue by the Duke your father béen assigned to you as a companion, I haue in such louing wise both comforted me counsailed you, as I hope you haue iust cause to say, that I haue most carefullie tendered your estate: for perceiuing how willing you were to follow my direction▪ I counted your wealth my weale, your pleasure my profite, your happinesse my ioy, and your prosperitie my felicitie. Which freindly care if it were not to be considered if I should shew you what great sorrow I sustaine by your heauinesse, you would iudge my wordes to procéed either of folly or flattery: but if your sore be such as it may be salued, if your care may bee cured, if your grief may be redressed, or your maladie mitigated by my meanes, commaund me good Castania, in what I may to pleasure thee, & thou shalt find me so charily to perform my charge, as my willing minde shall euidently bewray my well meaning. I see Castania, of late, such a strange me­tamorphosis in thy minde, as for pleasant conceites thou doest vse pensiue cogitations, thy chéerfull countenance is chāged into lowring looks, thy merry deuises into mourn­full dumps, and yet I cannot cōiecture the cause of this so­dain alteration. If want of riches should worke thy woe, why, thou swimst in wealth: if losse of friends, thou bast in­finite of noble parentage, which loues thée most intirely. If thou meanest no longer to leade a single life, no doubt thy father will prouide thee of such a princely match, as shall content thee for his person, & countenance thee with his parentage. But if in all these supposes I haue miss she marke, and haue not toucht the case of thy calamitie, vn­fold vnto me Castania, what the paine is that thus doth pinch thee, and assure thy selfe I will be so secret in thy af­faires, as euer Lampana was to her Ladie Cleophila.

Castania hearing this friendly discourse of Melytta, thought for all this faire glose, the text might hee too in­tricate, [Page] and that these painted spéeches would proue but rot­ten pillers: fearing therfore the fetch, and doubting y^t worst, if she bewray her mind, she framed her this answere.

MAdame (quoth she) the incomparable curtesie and vn­fained friendship which since your first comming I haue found in you by experience, will neither suffer mée to suspect your Ladiship of flattery, nor my selfe willingly to be accused of ingratitude: for your diligence hath béene so great, and my desertes so small, that if I might but liue to requite some part of your good will, it were the second feli­citie I looke for in this life. But touching the pensiue passi­ons which thus diuersly perplexed me, I answer that as he which is wounded of the Bores tusk, if his sores take aire is very hardly healed, as hee which is striken with a Scor­pion, if his wound take wind can neuer be cured: so Madam many inward maladies carry this nature, that if they bee once discouered, they are far y^e more hardly recouered, that it is better to conceale them with griefe, than reueale them in hope of releefe.

Not so Castania, your principle is not true: for if your passions procéeded of loue, which of all other inward sores requireth greatest secrecie, yet vndoubtedly the more it is discouered, the sooner it is cured. For as the stone of Arme­nia being couered with Sand, burneth most extreamely, and no sooner taketh aire, but it cooleth: so the firie flames of loue raked vp in silence, fry most suriously; but being by discourse disclosed, they soone conuert from flame to fume and smoke. Wherfore good Castania impart vnto mée the matter which doth import thée so néere, and I sweare vnto thee by the sacred rites of Ceres, which is so honoured in Alexandria, that if thou doest loue where thy friends doe not like, and thy wish be contrary to their will, yet I will sake all meanes possible to redresse thy sorrowe.

Alas good Madame, rather than you should thinke mee so incredulous or suspicious, as not to beléeue your oath, or [Page] doubt of your secret dealing, I will without delay make you priuy to the cause of my paine, what perill soeuer I incurre by reuealing it. So it is Melytta, that the perfec­tion of Gwydonius, his exquisite qualities, & excellent ver­tues, haue so fiercely assaulted the fort of my fancy, as I am perforce constrained to resigne my liberty captiue vnto his curtesie, & to make his person the prison of my heart. This lucklesse & vnlikely loue, Madam, is the cause of my care, & the sum of my sorrow, this frantike affection hath driuen my drooping heart to shew forth these drousie leekes, this is it which hath made me an enemy to myselfe, a foe to all good company, and to delight in nothing but sorrow and solitari­nesse: yea, this is the sore, which if in time it be not salued, will preuent by death all other miseries.

And is this (quoth Melytta) the pain that so greatly per­plexeth you? Is this the care that so cumbers your consci­ence? Is this the danger which driues you into such déepe distresse? Do you think so superstitiously of Gwydonius, or so abiectly of your selfe, that you déem this matter impossi­ble to be brought to passe? no, no, doubt not Castania, I my selfe dare absolutely promise thee, that thy loue shall sort to such happie successe, as thou thy selfe doest séeke for.

And with that Melytta stayed by a sodaine sight she had of that Saint that Castania so hartily serued: for Gwydo­nius was entring in at the chamber deere with a dish of de­licates, which Orlanio hearing his Daughter was so sick, had sent her. Melytta séeing that Cupid began to sauor the cause of his Clients, in giuing them such fit opportunitie to discouer their cares, went her waie, leauing Gwydonius the first man to play his part in this tragicall comedy, who séeing his goddesse thus surprised with sicknesse, was so gallen with griefe, so pinched with hellish passions, and so tortured with extreame torments, that his colour began to change, & he fetcht a déep sigh or two, which Castania hea­ring, she perceiued without touching his pulses, the cause of these his sodain passions. In fine, such melancholike mo­tions [Page] so amazed his minde, that he was almost mute in his message, yet at length incouraging himselfe, hée presented it vnto her in this wise.

Madame (quoth he) the Duke your Father hearing of your sodaine sicknesse, in token of his fatherly affection, a­mongst all his dainties, hath sent you this dish, which hee thinks most méet for your diet, wishing your Ladiship to let no doubtfull motions distresse your minde, nor no care­full thoughts cumber your conscience: for you shall lacks nothing if you reueale to him your want, which either your will or wish can desire. And truly Madame, to mani­fest my willing duety (if the praiers of a poore Gentleman may be heard of the heauenly Gods) I wish that before you taste of this feede it may turne to Nectar, whereby not only your sicknesse should be salued, but your diuine beautie and vertue according to desert should be crowned with im­mortalitie.

Castania perceiuing with what fernent affection Gwy­donius vttered those wordes, began to chéere vp her selfe, in hope that her good will should not be repaied with ingra­titude: taking therefore the present at his handes, and li­king it neuer the worse for his sake that brought it, she re­turned him this replie.

Gwydonius (quoth she) as I haue cause most reuerent­ly to accept of my fathers louing curtesie, and to repay his naturall affection with most dutifull obedience, so I haue cause to thanke thee for thy paines, and to thinke well of thée for thy wish, promising in recompence of thy good wil, if in any respect I may pleasure thee, to séeke and sue to my father for preferment.

Madame, I account the performance of my message no paine, but pleasure, and I thinke my selfe as much honored by this office, & thrice more happy than if I should in Gani­medes place present y^t cup to Iupiter. But Madame, sith y^t to stop the streame, is to make the floud flow more fierce­lie, to represse the fire, is to make it flame more furiously, [Page] and to restraine the force of loue, is to kindle a greater flame, least too long delaie should bréede too great daunger, and by concealing my sorrow I should make the sore incu­rable, I thought good either presently to heare the curte­ous sentence of my life, or the cruell doome of my death. So it is Madame, that too long gazing vppon the beames of your heauenly beautie, and too narrowly construing ouer your vertuous conditions, I remaine so caught in y^e snare of your bountie, and so thralled in the thréede of your ver­tue, that the staie of my life hangeth in your hands, either to driue mee downe to hellish miscrie, or to boist mee vp to heauenly felicity. For although I haue not heretofore by dutifull seruice made manifest the loyaltie of my loue, yet since I first framed in my fancie (as in a mirrour) the shape of your surpassing beautie, my heart hath béene crossed with such cruell Camizados for your sake, as if with the Target of hope I had not wi [...]hst stood the furious force of such raging furies, I had by despaire béene dashed against most dangerous rockes. Sith then Madame, the sight of your swéete face hath fast fettered my fancie in the links of loue, so as without your means I can neither be redressed nor released: I humbly desire you neither to resist the mo­tion of my well meaning, nor to reiect the deuotion of my good will, but to accept your poore Gwydonius as a faithfull seruant.

Castania hearing diligentlie the faithfull discourse of distressed Gwydonius, perceiuing by his sighs the pinching sorrow of his thoughts, and séeing him so fast fettered in follie, on a sodaine to giue her the slip had that shee desi­red: and now her louing lookes were turned to lowring glances, her delightfull curtesie, to disdainfull coinesse, and she thought to repaie the swéete meate wherewith before she fed him, with most sowre sauee: not that she misliked of his loue, for it was the onelie thing she desired, but to make him the more feruent in affection, vttering these or such like words to her selfe secretly.

[Page] And is not (Castania) the victorie most accounted of, where the conquest is most doubtfull? Is not the Castle which abideth the longest batterie, thought the richest boo­tie? Are not those pearles which are scarcely founde and hardly gotten, euer of greatest value: whatso is gained by perill, is thought alwaies precious, hardly come by, wari­ly kept. The maide that by long sute and much trauell is obtained, by how much the more she was hard in the win­ning, by so much the more she will be swéet in the wearing: she which in her virginitie is charie of her chastitie, in her mariage wil be as warie of her honestie: therfore I wil qualifie the hotloue of Gwydonius with a colde potion, and with that she made him this waspish answere.

Why Gwydonius, shall the old Prouerbe be verified in thee, that the Priest forgets himselfe that euer hee was a clarke, that too much familiaritie bréedes contempt? I sée well if Apelles that cunning painter suffer the greasie Souter to take a view of his curious worke, he will grow so malapert, as to meddle with his picture: if the proude Centaure Ixion be bidden to the feast of the Gods, no lesse than Iuno her selfe will suffice him for his choise.

Set a beggar on horsebacke they saie, and he will ne­uer alight. Extoll one of base stocke to any degrée of dig­nity, [...]d who so proude and haughtie? I speake this Gwy­donius to thy reproofe: is thy stomake alate waxen so quea­sie, that no dyet will downe but my fathers owne dish? Wil no meaner mate suffice thee, vnlesse thou match with a Princess? Is there no Ladie wil like thee, but my loue? Is there no courser Dame to couet, vnlesse thou court vnto me? Did my father promote thée to this thou art, from the state of a beggar, and wilt thou now presume to be my bet­ter? Haue my lookes béene so louing, my countenance so curteous, my glaunces so full of good will, as to promise so much as thou doest presume? No: but one onely coun­tenaunce in a seruile minde is too much incouragement. Doest thou thinke Gwydonius, that I account so meanly [Page] of my person, as to match with a man of thy pitch? Shall I so far cracke my credit, as to cumber my selfe with one of thy calling? Shall I so straine my state, as to stoope to thy lure? No. Where is thy coine to maintaine my coun­tenance? Where is thy wealth to vpholde my worship? Where is thy patrimonie to counteruaile my personage? But put case I accepted of thy sute doest thou thinke euer to gaine my fathers good will? Doest thou thinke it is pos­sible to compasse his consent? Doest thou hope euer to take him in such a vaine, as he will bee willing to giue his ver­dite on thy side? No Gvvydonius: but if he were priuie to this thy presumption, he would repaie thy follie with too much furie, he would vnplume thee of all his feathers, that like Aesops Crow thou mightest receiue the reward of thy rashnesse. If therefore thou loue thine owne welfare, kéep thy selfe within thy boundes, and striue not farther than thy sléeue will stretch, least in climing too high, thou catch the sorer fall.

Castania hauing thus sharply shaken vp my yong youth Gwydonius, thought she had giuen him a sufficient cooling Card: but he no whit dismaied with this deniall, like a lusty champion entered pell-mell with her in this wise.

Madame (quoth he) the poore shoomaker was not bla­med for viewing Apelles picture, but because in finding fault he went beyond his shooe: the Centaure Ixion was not reproued for his familiaritie with Iuno as he was a guest, but in that his sute tended to the sacking of her ho­nestie: familiaritie neuer bréeds contempt in a good mind, neither am I to be accused of that crime: for the most seruile slaue in Alexandria (I call the heauens as witnesses of my words) doth not with more louing dutie reuerence & honor your person & parentage, than doth your poore seruāt Gwydonius. Well Madame, though my nature and nurture be such in your sight, as they bewray my bringing vp and birth to be so base, as if I meane to drawe my descent, I must (as you say) imblaze mine armes in the beggars coat, [Page] yet thus much I answere in respecte of my Parents, and without arrogancie thus farre I stand on my pantofles, that the credite I haue in your fathers Court, is not coe­quall with the calling I haue in mine owne Countrie, if I did not count it more greater credite and honour, in that I haue sometime enioyed a curteous countenance of your swéete selfe since my comming. But it I were the most fa­mous Prince in the world, I so estéeme your diuine beau­ty and exquisite vertue, as I would thinke my selfe farre vnworthy to possesse such heauenly perfection: which if I could obtain, the displeasure of your Father could no whit discourage mee, his thundering threats coulde no whit a­maze mée: no, death it selfe could neuer daunt my minde, were it neuer so despightfull. But who (say you) can lay their loue where is no desert, and where want breedes a flat deniall?

Ah Castania, Nature by her secret motion hath indued all creatures with some perfect qualities, to supply y^t want which bréeds misliking. The Moule depriued of sight hath a wonderful hearing: the Hare being very fearefull is most swift: the Fish hauing no eares, hath most cleare eyes: so though want of dignitie disgrace me, though want of coin discountenance me, though lacke of wealth impaires my credit, yet Nature hath giuen me such a loyall and louing heart, as I hope in the perfection of that, shee hath supply­ed the want of all the rest: So that Madam though I want coine, I do not want constancy, though I haue no lands, yet I lack not loyaltie, though I want wealth yet I want not will to end my life to do you good, or spende my time to do you seruice.

GWydonius hauing thus pithily replyed, draue Casta­nia into a great doubt, whether shee should presently consent to his demand, or still driue him off with delayes, whether shee should yeelde the fort at the first skirmish, or stand to the doubtfull euent of battayle: at length least shee [Page] should digresse from the course of woman kind, she thought best to deuie that shee most of all desired, and therefore then gaue him this answere.

GWydonius (quoth shée) in what state you came to my fathers Court I knowe, what you are by discent I knowe not, nor I care not, and if I did it auaileth not: but this I say, that it is hard taking of Fowle, when the net is descried, and il catching of fish, when the hook is bare: impos­sible it is Gwydonius, to infer beléefe, when no credit will be giuen, and to deceiue her that spieth thy fetch: when the string is broken, it is hard to hit the white, and when a mans credit is called in question, perswasions can little preuatle. It is a religion amongst louers to sweare and forsweare, to promise mountains, and to perform moule hils, to be ripe without and rotten within, to carrie a rusty blade in a vel­uet scabberd, and a siluer bell with a leaden clapper. Ther­fore Gwydonius, I had rather mistrust too soone, than mistike too late, I had rather feare my choice than rue my chance, I had rather stop at the brim, than at the bottom: for the signet being set, it is too late to break the bargain, and fancy being once fixt it is too late to reclaime affection. For the loue of a woman is like the Oyle of Flint, which being once congealed will neuer be dissolued: like the Diamond, being once rubbed with the gum of a Pine trée, will neuer be broken: so if I fancy any, sith I mean not to fléete, it shall be such a one, as I néed not repent mée.

And whereas you say, Gwydonius, that in despight of Fortune, Nature hath giuen you a louing heart, I my self surely did neuer déem any lesse, but thought you of the crue of those louers that loue too much, hauing as manie Ladies as they haue wits, and that is not a fewe, who count that euery face must haue a newe fancie, and if they sée a thou­sand they must be all viewed with a sigh: which considered Gwydonius, I mean not to like nor to loue neither you nor any other.

[Page] ANd shall theu Madame (quoth hée) my merite bée re­payed with no meede? Shall my good wil be requited with no gaine? shall I haue in lieu of my life no liking? will you so swaru [...] from iustice, as not to giue euery one according to his desert? at the least, recompence not desire with despight; and hearty loue, with loathing hate: for as the Poet saith: Quis [...] succenset amanti?

Well Gwydonius, as I will not be thy priuie friend, so I will not be thine open foe, and as I cannot be so curte­ous as to requite thee for thy pains, so I will not be so cru­ell as to despight thee for thy presumption, and where as thou crauest gaines for thy good will, I am content to re­maine thy unwilling debter.

Yet Madame (quoth hée) where she debt is confest, there remaineth some hope of recouery: for though the creditor bee neuer so vnwilling to pay the debt being due, hée shall by constraint of law and his own confession, (maugre his face) be forced to make restitution.

Truth Gwydonius (quoth shée) if he commence his ac­tion in a right case, and the plea he puts in, proue not im­perfect. But yet take this by the waie, it is hard for that plaintife to recouer his costes, where the defendant béeing Iudge, setsdowne the sentence.

Gwydonius féeling himselfe pincht to the quicke with this prettie quip, made no further reply: but least his long tarrying might bréed suspicion, wishing his Mistris wel­fare, tooke his leaue very solemnly and sorrowfully, of Castania, who séeing him gone and her selfe alone, began thus to muse and meditate vpon the sharpe answeres shee had giuen her best beloned Guydonius.

VVHy Castania, what franlike fully hath made thée thus far to forget thy selfe? Is she [...]ird inti [...]d to the strap by the shewe of the nets, is the For allured to the train by the view of the trap? wil the Mause march vnder [Page] that Ensigne, where the Catte proclaimeth her selfe Cap­taine? will the siltie Doue laie her Egges in the Fawl­cons neast? or is it the meanes to haue him to thy friend, whom with bitter blowes thou doest rebuke? is there no other call for curtesie, but crueltie? doest thou finde no fit­ter meanes to obtaine a ceasonable request, but by a rigo­rous repulse? or is it the nature of women to defie that outwardly which they most desire inwardly, to loath that in their mouth, which they loue in their minde, to reiect that with their hand, which they most willingly would re­ceiue in their heart? Doest thou thinke Castania, to drawe Gwydonius to thy desire, by detesting him? Doest thou think to allure him to thy loue, by loathing him? Doest thou suppose to win him to thy will by these waspish an­sweres? No: and what, doest thou know what perill will en­sue of this repulse, what daunger will follow of this deni­all? Is it like he will put it vp patiently? No sure, either looke to haue his extreame loue turned to extreame hate, or that he will persist no longer in the pursute of his purpose. Oh would to God Gwydonius, thou wert againe to begin thy demaund, and I to frame mine answere: then would I salue thy sores with swéete strops, not with cutting co­rasiues: then would I mitigate thy maladie with easie me­dicines, not with pinching plaisters: then would I com­fort thee with consent, not daunt thee with denials. But alas, Had I wist now comes too late: and therefore Casta­nia, if thou hast made a faulte, seeke to make amendes, and recompence this his iniurie with most friendly cur­tesie.

And with that came Melytta: who comforting Casta­nia, passed away the rest of the day in parle.

But Gwydonius, who all this while had a flea in his eare, was dr [...]en into aquandarie with the tauting qu [...]p [...] of his mistresse, fearing that although his accounts were great, his gaines should be little; and though he made a ve­rie long haruest, yet he should reape but a very smal crop, [Page] thinking that vnder such sowre spéeches, a sugred minde could not bée contayned: yet at last entering into dee­per consideration with himselfe, hee fell into these tearmes.

But by the sweete (quoth hée) how should we knowe the sower? but by the blacke, how should wée knowe the white? hée neuer greatly accounteth of prosperitie which hath not béen before pinched with aduersitie: which per­chaunce Castania meanes to make me trie by experience, thinking to féede mee first with bitter broaths, that hereaf­ter dainty fare may more delight mee: to daunt mée with the raging stormes of deniall, that the calme of her consent may more content mée: to make mée taste the bitter pilles of annoy, that hereafter I may inioy the greater ioy: for the chilling colde of winter makes the sprowting spring time séeme farre more pleasant, the parching heate of som­mer, makes the coole shade more delightfull, and the frow­ning looks of Castania, will make her smiling countenāce séeme more chéerful. Then cease not Gwydonius, to pur­sue thy suite with endlesse paine, eyther to enioy her curte­sie or taste of her cruelty, to thy great happiness or extream heauinesse.

GWydonius thus like a valiant Champion, neuer ama­zed with any chip of misfortune, neuer feared to giue the assault for all the first repulse, but onely sought oppor­tunity how he might in close combate once again incoun­ter with Castania; vowing eyther to returne with some signe of victory, or else to put limme and life in hazard. But fortune meaning pleasantly to sport with this yoong nouice, would neuer minister such fit occasion, y^t he might haue solitary accesse to his goddesse. For, Castania of pretē ­ded purpose so warily auoyded his company, and with such disdainfull lookes so reiected his dutie, as Gwydonius was constrained to séek his course by a new compasse, deliue­ring vnto one of her maids a friendly Letter, to this effect.

CAstania hauing receiued this Letter from her assured friend Gwydonius, although she perceiued by the cō ­tents that his loue was not counterfait, but constant: not light, but loyall: not floting, but faithfull: and that shee should not finde him immutable in prosperitie, which was so permanent in aduersity; Yet (whether it were for coy­nesse in consent, or charinesse of choyse I know not) shee once againe thought to sound him more déeper, to kéep out still the flagge of destance, and to spend one Vollee of shot in the face of her enemy, to see if a hot skirmish woulde make him flie the fielde. And if like a valiant souldier hee did manfully march on, and not refuse the brunt of the bat­taile, she would then resigne the fort of her freedome into his hands, and yéeld vp the bulwarke of her breast, which [Page] so long he had battered, that triumphantly he might set vp Trophees in signe of most victorious conquest. To put therefore the matter in question, shee returned him this answere.

GWydonius hauing viewed & reusewed ouer this Let­ter, séeing the rigorous resolutiō of his mistresse could­by no meanes be remoued, and that a most seuere sentence was pronounced against him by a most iniurious Iudge, was driuen into a doubt whether he should still w^t plaints sue for pittie, or else blasphemously exclaime against her brutish crueltie, whether he shold bewray his parents and parentage to the Duke and her, or still stand to the doubt­full chance of fortune, to pursue his purpose still w^t plaints: her hellish crueltie perswaded him to blaspheme against her: the sinceritie of his loue, would not let him to bewray [Page] his birth: diuers dangers might insue: to stand to the chance of Fortune, was still to hazard without hope: combred thus with diuers cogitations, at last he determined to breake vp the batterie, and to lay too an inuincible hold, and to returne with as much spéed, as might be to his father Clerophontes Court, there by absence to mitigate the malady which so grieuously molested him: yet he thought before his departure to giue her a friendly farewell, that might both confirme his constancy, and condemne her cruelty, which he framed to this effect.

CAstania hauing receiued this letter from Gwydonius, perceiuing the constant mind of the yong Gentleman, that these his protestations were not vanitie, but veritie: not trifling, but troth: no signes of fléeting fancie, but of a firme affection: standing a while in a dumpe, at last she fel into this discourse.

I now (quoth shée) both sée and trie by experience, that there is no fish to fickle, but will come to the bayt: no Doe so wild, but will stand at the gaze: no Hawke so haggard, but will stoope at the lure: no Niesse so ramage, but wil be reclaimed to the Lunes: no fruite so fine, but the Cater­piller [Page] will consume it: no Adamant so hard but will yéeld to the file, no metall so strong, but will bende to the stampe: no mayd so frée, but loue will bring her to bondage and thraldome. And doo I call it bondage, fond foole, to be bound vnto beauty? is it slauery to bee subiect vnto vertue? is it thraldome to liue in league with him who will like mee in my youth, and loue me in my age, in whom I shall find no­thing but pleasure and contentation? who will be the hauen of my happinesse, wherein I may rest: & the port of my pro­sperity wherein I may bee safe harboured from the tem­pests of froward fortune, and shroud meee from the bitter blasts of bale? Shal I repent me, sith my bargain is good? or complaine of the losse of libertie, sith I haue a chaunge for farre more worthy chaffer? Shall I grudge when the gods are agréed? or deferre it, when the destinies driue it? or frowne at it, sith fortune frames it? No: Gwydonius, is my Saint, and him will I serue; hee is my ioy, and him will I inioy. He hath laid the siege, and hee shall sacke the Citie: he hath abode the batterie, and he shall haue the bul­warke of my breast: he hath fought the combat, and he shall be victor in the conquest. For I cannot be so vnnaturall, to reward his loue with loathing: so without reason, to de­fraud him of his right: so diuelish, for his déepe desire to giue him a dolefull dish of despaire. No, no, I haue settled with my selfe, that if euer I marry, Gwydonius shalbe the man I will match with. And therefore as I haue driuen him off with delayes, and fed him with folly, so nowe I wil send him a settled answere of my good will and fauour: as I haue giuen him cutting corrasiues, so I will send him con­fects of comfort. As I haue béene fearefull to shewe my li­king for the better tryall: so now I will be bolde to shewe my loue in token of a better trust. And with that she wrote him a Letter to this effect.

THis Letter béeing most luckily deliuered into the hands of Gwydonius, I leaue you to iudge Gentle­men into what a quandarie this yong youth was brought, to sée such a sodaine change, and so happie a chaunce, as to haue his hellish bale requited with heauenly blisse, his de­spightfull annoy, with delightfull ioy: his heauinesse with happinesse, and doubtfull despaire turned to assured hope: to sée Fortune which of late deffed him as a foe, nowe to imbrace him as a friend, and to will that hee did wish: to sée his mistresse crueltie turned to curtesie, her disdaine to desire, her bitter pilles to sugered potions, her stormie re­pulses to calme consent, and her contemptuous protestati­ons, to most constant promises. For if the carefull captiue, who by the doome of the Iudge expecteth each houre to die, reioyceth when he heareth his pardon pronoūced, no doubt [Page] Gwydonius ioy could be no lesse, sith denial was his death, and consent the conserue to heale his woundes: the grea­ter care, the greater ioy: the more paine, the greater plea­sure: the more hellish miserie, the more heauenly felicitie. Yea, Gwydonius was driuen into such an extasie for ioy, that he was in doubt, whether this Letter was preferred to him indéede, or presented to him in a vision: whether he were rapt into a traunce, or rauished with some drowsie slumber: but at last perceiuing it to be no fained fantasie, such a déep desire inforced his affection, as he thought eue­rie moment a moneth, euerie houre a yeare, euerie day a thousand, vntill he might fréely enioy the presence & sight of his loue and Ladie Castania. Fortune meaning to ad­uance him to the toppe of her inconstant whéele, brought it so to passe, that before the wéeke was ended, he spied Ca­stania walking alone in the garden: which sodain sight so reuiued his senses, that without any dread or doubt, he mā ­fully marcht on towards her, and was as hastily and har­tily incountred by Castania: who embracing Gwydoni­us in her armes, welcommed him with this salutati­on:

As the Whale (Gwydonius) maketh alwaies signe of great ioy at the sight of the fish called Talpa Marina, as y^t Hinde greatly delighteth to sée the Leopard, as the Lyon fawneth at the view of the Vnicorne, & as he which drin­keth of the Fountaine Hipenis in Scythia, féeleth his mind so drowned in delight, that no griefe thogh neuer so great, is able to asswage it: so Gwydonius I conceiue such sur­passing pleasure in thy presence, and such heauenly felici­tie in the sight of thy perfection, that no miserie though ne­uer so monstrous, is able to amaze mée, no dolour though neuer so direfull, is able to daunt mée, nor no mishappe though neuer so perillous, is able to make me sinke in sor­row, as long as I enioy thy presence, which I count a so­ueraine preseruatiue against all carefull calamities. That [Page] as he which tasteth of the hearb Hyacinthus is neuer com­bred with care, and as he that weareth the stone Agathes about him, is surely defenced against all ensuing sorrows: so enioying the sight of thy séemely selfe, and féeding mine eyes with the forme of thy feature, I thinke my selfe suf­ficiently shrowded against all the tempestuous showers of sinister fortune. And to proue these my promises to bee no fained vanities but faithfull veritie, I commit my selfe, my staie, and state into thy handes, to dispose of me at thy pleasure, wishing rather to liue with thee in most distres­sed penurie, than to linger héere in most fortunate prospe­peritie.

Gwydonius listening attentiuely to this sugred harmo­nie, was so rauished with the sight of her swéete face, and so rapt into a traunce with the contemplation of her beauty, that as the Lyon tasting of the gumme Arabicke becom­meth senselesse, as the Bull by browsing on the barke of a Iuniper trée falleth asléepe, as the Camell standeth astoni­shed at y^• sight of a Rat: so Gwydonius séeing in his armes the Saint whome in heart he did honour, and imbracing y^• Goddesse whom with most déep deuotion he did adore, was so amazed, that he was not able to vtter one word, as wit­nesse of his happinesse, vntill at last gathering his wits to­gether, he began thus to reply:

CAstania (quoth he) it is an axiome in Philosophie, that the colour ioyned hard to the sight, hindreth the sense: the flower put into the nosethrill, stoppeth the smelling: the Wine vessell being full, lettes passe no Wine, though neuer so well vented: the waterpot being filled to the brim yéeldes forth no licour, though hauing a thousand holes: so where the minde is surcharged with ouermuch ioy, or too much pleasure, there the tongue is both tyed, and the senses so restrained, that the heart is neither able to con­ceiue the ioy, nor the tongue able to expresse the pleasure. [Page] Which, Castania, I now speak by proofe, and know by ex­perience: for I am so drowned in delight by enioying that Princely Gemme, which I estéeme the rarest and richest Iewell, not onely in Alexandria, but in all the world, and so puffed vp in pleasure by thy diuine presence: Yea, thy faithfull and vnfeined affection, the promise of thy con­stancy, and the hope of thy loyaltie, the report of thy cha­stitie, and the renowme of thy modestie, the force of thy beautie, and the fame of thy vertue: But aboue all thy prodigall bounty, in bestowing these heauenly perfections on thy poore Gwydonius, béeing by person and parentage most vnworthy to possesse them, so surchargeth my sillie heart with excessiue ioie; that my tongue not being able in part to expresse the extreame pleasure of my minde, I am with Philistion the comicall Poet, constrayned by silence to vnfolde that affection, which in words the filed phrase of Demosthenes were not able to decipher. But this assure thy selfe Castania, that if Iuno would aduaunce me to hée Monarch of the worlde, if Pallas would preferre mée to ex­céede hautie Hercules in valour, if Venus would present me with some princely peece of heauenly perfection, yet would I not so gladly receiue their proffers, as I do grate­fully accept the promise of thy loue and loyaltie. No: I ac­count the treasure of Cioesus but trashe, in respect of the guerdon of thy good will: I account the fortune of Caesar but follie, respecting the fruites of thy fauour: I estéeme the dignities of Priamus as dregges, in respect of thy di­uine perfection. Yea, Castania, I am so snared with thy beautie, and so intangled in the trappe of thy bountie, as I shall neuer leaue to loue thée, nor euer begin to like anie other.

IT is easie Gwydonius (quoth Castania) to purchase credite, where the partie is alreadie perswaded, and to infer beléefe, where euerie word is counted an Oracle. There­fore omitting these frinolous protestations, thus much I [Page] say touching the purpose. Cecillius Metellus was wont to say, that as it was necessary that old men should be graue in counsaile, so it was expedient yong men should be secret in loue: and therfore when the contract was made betwéene Fuluius and his daughter, hée sealed vp their lips with his signet, meaning that to violate the secret conference of lo­ners, was to commit a second sacriledge. I speak this Gwydonius, as one careful of thy staie, and my state: for if Orlanio my father should but once heare of our loue, or su­spect our liking, it would bréed thy mishap and my miserie: yea, no doubt hee woulde spéedily preuent our pretence, which would be thy care and my calamity. Dispose our af­faires at thy pleasure, but disouer not our purpose: if thou hast wonne the Castle, vaunt not of the conquest: if thou hast made a good market, bragge not of thy gaines: least by boasting of thy bootie, thou loose thy preie, & be thought a pratler. And Gwydonius, aboue all men beware of Va­lericus, least vnder the shape of a friend, he proue in time thy mortall foe, least his fained amitie prooue faithlesse en­mitie: that in trusting too much without tryall, thou finde not treason: and then though thou repent, yet Had I wist commeth too late, and so thou wish thou hadst neuer loued, and I neuer liked.

TVsh Castania, (quoth Gwydonius) he that is afraide to venture on the Buck, because he is tapisht in the bri­ers, shall neuer haue hunters happe, and hée that puttes his doubt in loue for euery chaunce, shall neuer haue louers lucke. Cannot the Catte catch Mice, without shee haue a bell hanging at her eare? Cannot the Hab­bie seize on his preie, but hee must checke? Cannot the Spaniell retriue the Partridge, but hee must quest? And cannot wée deale so warily but all the world must wonder as it? Yes, it is a subtile bird that bréedes among the aerin of Hawkes, and a shifting shéepe that lambes in the Foxes denne, and be shall looke narrowly that spies me halting. [Page] Let Orlanio not onely weigh our workes, but our words, and let Valericus both deeme our déedes and diuine our thoughts, and yet we hope I will dealt so secretly in our affaires, as neither the one shall haue cause to suspect our familiaritie, nor the other to detect our affection. And ther­fore Castania, least (if we be spied) the time and place giue occasion of mistrust, I will leaue you as I found you, and so farewell.

VVEll, these two louers placed thus by Fortune in the palace of earthly prosperitie, floated so se­curely in the streames of blisse, as they thought no chippes of milchance might change their present happinesse to fu­ture heauinesse, as long as their priuy contract was kept so secret to thēselues. But as they which cannot sée fire in the strawe are stone blinde: so hee that cannot sée the flame of fancie is a foole. It is hard to couer smoake, but more hard to conceale loue: which these two louers in tract of time tried true. Who as closely as they kept their cloake, yet it was most easie to espie the lining: for fancie secretly re­strained, is like the sparke couered with ashes, which at length brusteth into a great flame. For there passed be­tweene Gwydonius such amorous glaunces, such louing lookes, such curteous congies, such countenances, and such friendly familiaritie, such often meetings, such open gree­tings, such sighes, such sobs, and such strange passions, as not onele Valericus, but all the Court (though they poore soules thought to daunce in a Net and not be séene) percei­ued how entirely they loued and liked each other. Which as it did not displease many which loued Gwydonius as their friend, so it greatly despighted Valericus which was his foe, to sée one of small countenance preferred before one of his calling, that Guydonius should win the bulwarke which he so long had battered: that hee pitching the fielde, another should obtaine the conquest: that hee laying the siege, another should vaunt of the victorie: that while hee [Page] beate the bush, another should catch the birds, and that the méede of his merite, should be giuen to one of small de­sert. Being cumbred with these cholericke cogitations, and perplexed with these despightfull passions, inflamed w^t wrathfull furie, he fell into these tearmes:

O Gods (quoth he) what curtesie is there to be found in such Kites of Cressids kinde? Or what constancie is there to bee hoped for in such daintie disdaining Dames? Whose wauering willes and stailesse wittes both waxe and wane with the Moone, whose lunatike minds change with euerie sodaine motion: yea, whose lightnesse and leaudnesse is such, as they delight with the Rauen to féede on the most loathsome flesh, with the shee Woolfe to choose the soniest Make, with Aesops Cocke to prefer the Bar­ly Corne before a most precious Pearle, and with Glaucus to make a chaunge of his golden armour for brasen Har­nesse.

Did not Euphinia forsake most famous Princes, and embrace a most infamous bondslaue? Did not Sirithia the Princesse of Denmarke reiect a poore peasant? Yea, did not Venus her selfe, with the Béetle, disdaine all day to light on the most fragrant flowers, and at night voutchsafeth to lodge in a filthie cowsheard: I meane, did shee not refuse the renowmed Gods, and choose a most deformed Smith?

Why, but Valericus, is it fancie that forceth them to follie? Doth loue leade them? Do the destinies driue them? Doth beautie allure them? Is it their countenance that constraineth them? No, they are clownes: Is it their per­son or parentage that perswadeth them? No, they are pea­sants. But like craftie Calipsos, they thinke by these vne­quall matches to rule the roast after their owne diet, to be soueraigne mistresses of their owne mindes, with Ve­nus to let Vulcan possesse the trée, & Mars enioy the fruit, to haue their husbands séed the shéep, and some other reape [Page] the fléece: vnder the shadowe of his head, to defend them­selues from such heate as woulde otherwise greatly scorch their credite, to make him follow the bent of their bowe, al­though hée set the Cuckoldes end vpwarde. It is a simple cloake that cannot couer one from a shower of raine, and a silly husban [...] that is not able to father that another dooth beget. But to sée how these gallant girles if they like not the partie, what shewe of shame fastnesse they will make, how they will vale their face with the visour of Virginitie, how they will cloke themselues with the colour of conti­nency, how chary they will be of their chastitie: whereas if they fancy, who so loose of their lips, and frée of their fleshe as they? But Valericus, why doest thou thus recklesly raile and rage against womankinde? It is not Castania that thus crosseth thée with care, but Gwydonius that brée­deth thy griefe. Is it not shée that inferreth thy sore, but he that procureth thy sicknesse. She is not the meanes of thy maladie, but he the hinderer of thy medicine. Shee is not the worker of thy woe, but he is the sower of thy sorrowe. And shall hée bée puffed vp with prosperity, and I pressed downe with miserie? Shall he swim in wealth, and I sinke in want? Shall he bathe in blisse, & I waile in woe? Shall he be pampered vp with pleasure, and I pinde away with penury? No, I will eyther spoyle him, or spill my selfe, in despite of the fates and fortune.

VVHile thus Valericus sought opportunity to re­uenge his wrath vpō guiltlesse Gwydonius, for­tune minding to bewray her mutability, brought it so to passe, that wheras Orlanio was accustomed to pay a yéerly tribute to the Duke of Mitylene, which surmounted to the sum of 30000. Duckets, eyther wilfully or willingly hée withhelde this debt, which Clerophontes claymed as his due, insomuch that being demanded by Embassage for the payment of this tribute, he flatly answered, that he would not from henceforth disburse one denyer, and hee was [Page] sorrie that in paying it heretofore hée prooued himselfe such a foole. Whereupon Clerophontes being fraught with ra­ging fury, was so incensed against Orlanio, that taking counsell of his Nobility, he determined with as much spéed as might be, to wage battaile against him, and to obtaine y^• by cōstraint, which he denied him of curtesie. As thus he was musing with himself whom he should appoint captain generall of his army, because he meant not in proper per­son to abide the hazard of the battell, the remembrance of his sonne Gwydonius came into his minde, which not on­ly amazed him, but so molested him, as he was driuen into most distressed dolor: now he called to mind his mercilesse cruelty in correcting his faultes, and his moodlesse rigour in rebuking his folly: now he bewailed his long absence, and wished his spéedie presence: yea, hee was so diuersly perplexed, as hée began thus dolorously to discourse with himselfe:

ALas (quoth hee) now I sée the saying of Cicero to be true, that who so wilfully peruerteth the lawes of na­ture, séemeth to proclaime himselfe an enemy to the gods, for that Nature neuer framed any thing amisse, wherein I haue most gréeuously offended: for in beastly rage I haue surpassed the bruite beastes and in crueltie, the sense­lesse creatures: I haue beene more deuoyd of pitie than the Fowles of the ayre, and more vnnatural than the Fishes of the sea. The Bird called Apis Indica, séeing the veni­mous Viper readie to deuoure her yong ones in the neast, presenteth her self to death, to preserue them from destruc­tion The Eagle is so carefull ouer her yoong, that if it hap by her default one of them doo perish, she willingly woun­deth her selfe in many places with her owne beake. The Lyon so louingly fostereth vp her whelpes, that shee neuer fasteth of the preie vntill they bee fully satisfied. The Foxe is so carefull ouer her cubbes, that shee willingly falleth into the Hunters handes to defend her yoong from harme. [Page] But I vile wretch, as though I had drunke of the Riuer Lincellis in Bohemia, which presently turneth whatsoe­uer it toucheth, into stones. In steade of friendly courtesie haue abused mine own son with frowning cruelty, in lieu of mercy I haue brought him to misery: the fatherly affec­tion I haue shewed him, hath béen raging furie: yea, my ri­gorous nature, nay rather my vnnaturall rage hath béene such towardes him, as hee liueth a banished exile in a straunge Countrie, perhappes pinched with penurie, op­pressed with pouertie, wandering in the wilde desartes, in daunger of deuouring, in perill of spoyling, afflicted not onely with the maladie of the body, but the miserie of the minde: so that no doubt he wisheth that I had neuer béene Father to such a sonne, or hée neuer sonne to such a Father.

Alas what ioy can I now inioy when I want mine one­ly ioy? What comfort can I haue to sée my childe in cala­mitie? What pleasure can I take while he toyleth in pe­nury, who now in mine age should be the staffe whereon to staie, that by his valiant courage and warlike prowesse (wherwith from his infancie hée hath béen indewed) might defend me from mine enimies, and reuenge me of my foes. But alas, I lament too late: the calme commeth out of time, when the Shippe hath suffered already Stipwrack, and the pittifull plaintes little preuaile, where the Pati­ent is already pushed into perill. No, no, my rage hath béene too great to heare of his hasty returne, my peruerse furie hath béen such, as hée dare not abide my presence: and surely my sorrow is too great euer to be salued.

And with that Clerophontes start vppe, minding to re­uenge these his cholericke cogitations by bloudy battaile vpon the confines of Alexandria, and therfore in great hast mustered all his men, made great prouision for the warre, and caused his Nauie to be rigged, for that he meant to cō ­ney his army by sea into Alexandria.

VVhile thus there was no worde through the whole [Page] Dukedome of Mitylene, but warre, warre, and no newes but of the cruell conflict that should insue betwéene the two Dukes; certaine Merchantes of Alexandria, which then roade in the Hauen durst not goe a shoare to sell their com­modities, but as fast as winde and weather woulde serue them, highed them out of the harbour, and coasted speedily into their owne Countrie: where they no sooner arriued, but they made report thereof to Orlanio, who driuen into a dumpe with this noysome newes, whether he doubted of the puissant power of Clerophontes, who was such a wor­thy warriour, and in battaile so bold, that no man durst a­bide him, or whether he feared his owne force was not a­ble to resist the furie of his raging enemy; Hee presently summoned all his Lords to a Parliament, where after some conference, it was cōcluded that Thersandro should bee sent Embassadour to Mitylene to parle of peace with Clerophontes: which determination was no whit defer­red, but with as much spéed as might be, the Bark where­in hée should passe was prouided, the charge of the Embas­sage was giuen him, and he accompanied with a traine of braue Gentlemen, departed.

But if this newes was dolefull to Orlanio, no doubt it was death it selfe to Gwydonius, who hearing that his fa­ther woulde bend his force against the place, wherein hee was, sawe all possibilitie taken away from obtayning his purpose, for he feared death if he were knowen to Orlanio, and hée doubted despightfull hate at the least, if he bewray­ed himselfe to Castania. Which double dolour so distressed him, as hée felt himselfe diuersly perplexed with dumpish passions, his myrth was turned to mourning, his pleasant conceits, to painefull cogitations: his wanton toyes, to wayling thoughtes: now he abandoned all good companie, and delighted onely in solitary life, the wildesome woodes were his walkes, and the secret shades the couert he chief­ly coueted. In fine, hée séemed rather a Tymon of Athens, than a Gentleman of Alexandria, so that all the Court [Page] marueiled at this so sodaine a chaunge, but especially Ca­stania, who coniecturing his dolefull heart by his drousie lookes, was astonished at this strange state, casting in her minde whether she had giuen him anie cause of this care, or whether by her occasion he was crossed with this cala­mitie. But alas poore soule, howsoeuer she aymed, she mist the marke, for Gwydonius kept his disease so secret, as he knew none could but himselfe diuine the cause of his ma­ladie: which no doubt was such, that it would haue infer­red present death, if hee had not hoped for some happie newes by Thersandro:

Who no sooner luckely arriued at Mitylene, but Clero­phōtes was certified that the Dukes sonne of Alexandria was come to impart with his Grace, some waightie mat­ters of importance. Now at this instant when the message was brought him, his daughter Lewcippa was by, who (as the nature of women is, desirous to see and bee séene) thought she should both heare the parle, & view the person of this young Embassadour, and therefore found fish on her fingers, that she might stay still in the chamber of pre­sence, whither presently Thersandro was sent for, who curteously and curiously doing his obeylance to the Duke, deliuered his Embassage in this maner:

VVHereas (right worthy sir) Orlanio, the Duke of Alexandria, more vnwittingly then wilfully denied certaine tribute, which he confesseth both hee and his predecessours haue payd to you and your auncestors: Hearing that héereupon your Grace meaneth rather to wage battaile, then to lose any part of your due, although he feareth not your force, as one able euery way to with­stand it, nor passeth of your puissance, as a Potentate suffi­cient to resist your power: Yet, the care he hath of his sub­iects safetie, and the loue he hath to preserue the life of his Commons, the regard he hath to pay and performe y^t which consciēce and custome requireth: and lastly meaning with [Page] Tully, Iniquissimam pacem iustissimo bello anteponere. He hath sent me both to sue for conditions of peace, and to paie the tribute: which if your Grace shall refuse, of force he must put his hope in the hazard of Fortune.

THersandro hauing thus pithily performed his charge, Clerophontes tolde him that vpon a sodaine he wold not dispatch so waightie a matter, but meant first both to consult and take counsaile of his Nobles: which done, within thrée dayes he shoulde haue an answere. In the meane time he commanded Lucianus the Steward of his house, verie courteously to entreate both Thersandro and his traine, and to feast them with such sumptuous fare, as they might haue cause most highly to extoll his magnifi­cence.

But leauing Clerophontes, to consult with his learned counsailours, and Thersandro to accompanie with the lu­stie Courtiers, againe to Lewcippa, who while this yong youth was telling of his tale, neuer markt the matter, but the man: nor regarded not the parle, but respected y^t per­son: neuer noted the contentes, but viewed his counte­nance: In such sort, that she was so scorched with the fire of fancie, and so scalded with the flame of affection, so be­witched with his beautie, and so inueigled with his boun­tie, as he was the onely man that made her checke at the pray, bate at the lure, and willingly yeelde to the first as­sault of fancie. And on the other side, Fortune so fauoured, that Thersandro printing in his heart the perfection of Lewcippas person, felt his fredome so fettered by y^t view of her heauenly face, and so snared in the beames of her a­morous glaunces, that he wisht that either this dissension had neuer growen, or that he had not béene the deliuerer of the message: for hee felt his heart alreadie so ouer­growen with good will, towardes this young Princesse, as no salue but her selfe was able to mitigate his sorrow, no medicine but her curtesie was able to cure his calami­tie, [Page] and he thought to preferre his sute to his professed foe, was folly: to linger still in loue, was death and misery: to séeke for helpe at her hands, neither would the present state permit him, nor time suffer him to prosecute his purpose: daunted with these diuerse doubtes, to auoyde the melan­cholike motions that molested his mind, he presently went from his lodging to the Court, that by company hée might driue away these dumpes: where, hee founde in the great Chamber diuerse Ladies & Gentlewomen, passing away the time in pleasant parle, amongst whom was that peer­lesse Paragon, princely Lewcippa: who (after due reue­rence done to the Gentlewomen in generall) was singled out by Thersandro, and courted in this wise.

MAdam (quoth he) if any creature hath iust occasion to accuse eyther nature or the gods of iniustice, man on­ly hath the greatest cause to make this complaint: for there is none other so depriued of reason, or deuoyde of sense, which by some naturall instinct dooth not skilfully presage of perils before they come, and warily preuent ere they bée past.

The Goates of Lybia, know certainly when the Cani­cular dayes beginne, wherein commonly they fall blinde, and therefore by eating the hearbe Polypodium, they pro­uidently preuent their disease. When the Lyon leaueth his Lawnes, and raungeth in forraigne desartes, hée al­waies foresheweth a drouth. When the Fish called Vra­noscopos sinketh downe to the bottome of the Sea, hée be­wrayeth great tempestes to bee imminent. But man is so farre from this secret foresight, that not onely hee cannot diuine of these ensuing daungers, but rather wilfully or willingly, pusheth himself into most manifest perils: which Madame, I speake, as féeling my selfe distressed with this want. For if I had béen indued with this sacred prescience, perfectly to presage of insuing perils, I had not béen crossed with such cares as I am like to incurre, nor had cause to re­pent [Page] this my present arriuall. But sith lacke of such skill hath procured my losse, and that when the hurt is had it is too late to take héed, though reuealing of my mishap cannot heale my misery, nor repeating of my paines redresse my sorrow, yet I mean to participate my passions to your good grace, that though you cannot or will not mitigate my maladie, yet you may pitie my estate, which wil some what ease my heauinesse. I came to your Fathers Court Ma­dam, a free man of Alexandria, and am like to return a cap­tiue of Mitylene: I arriued deuoyd of care, and am like to depart drenched with calamity: I landed frée from affectiō, but fear to passe hence fraught with fancy: my charge was only to parle of peace, but my chance is to discourse of passi­ons. Yea, your beauty hath so fettered my fréedom & so sna­red my heart in the linkes of your loue, that it shall neuer be raced out by any sinister means of Fortune, although I sée it is almost impossible to obtain it.

For I doubt, our Parents are like to proclaime them­selues professed foes, and the vrgent necessitie of my af­faires forceth mée to depart so spéedily, as want of time wil not suffise to make triall of my loue, whereby I might claim a sufficient guerdon for my good will: yet howsoeuer the matter shall hap, whether my hope bée voyde, or my hap be vaine, I meane Madame to remaine yours for e­uer.

Lewcippa took such delight in hearing Thersandro dis­course so louingly, as shée could scarcely kéepe her counte­nance from bewraying the pleasure she conceiued in this parle, séeing that her loue was requited with liking, and hir fancie incountred with the like affection. Yet, least Ther­sandro should think her too courteous if shée should come at the first call, and very light of loue, to like at the first looke, shée framed him this answere:

SIR (quoth shee) if of your sute for Conditions of peace there insue no better successe than the reuealing of [Page] your passions shall reape pittie at my handes, or if the in­treatie for truce be as lightly respected by my Father, as either your person or petition is regarded by me, you are like to carrie home colde newes to your countrey, and to vaunt that you bad faire, but bought little, that your Har­uest was long, but your corne not worth the cropping: that your venture was much, but your gaines such, as if your winning proue no better, you are like to liue by the losse. For sir, do you suppose mee so sottish, as to thinke euerie one that flatters doeth fancie, or so addicted to selfe loue, as by a few filed phrases to be brought into a fooles Paradise? knowing that it is the fashion of men by their fained sub­tiltie to deceiue our fathfull simplicitie? No, for if you meane to counterfaite, take this for a rule, it is ill halting before a créeple. But sir, this your sodaine liking bewraies the lightnesse of your loue: this your fond affection, im­portes the sicklenesse of your fancie: for soone hote, soone colde: easilie inflamed, as quickly quenched: like to the Apples of Arabia, which beginne to rot, ere they behalfe ripe. And if I meant to loue, had I none to like but my Fathers foe? should I desire him whome my Father doth detest? And if I should so farre forget mine owne stay, or my Fathers state, as to consent, it were impossible either to appease his wrath, or to get the grant of his good will. So that to desire that which I can neuer inioy, were to driue my selfe whollie into despaire, which would smally profite you, and greatly displeasure me: and therefore cease to sue for that, which may well be wisht, but neuer obtained.

Thersandro although hée heard Lewcippa decide the case sufficiently, yet hee was so wilfull that hee would not take her doome for a verdite, but returned her this re­plie.

MAdame (quoth hee) where in lieu of hate there insueth loue, it is alwaies the signe of the grea­ter [Page] affection: and that it is a thing either confirmed by the Fates, or appointed by the Gods. Tereus the Prince of Thrace, being sent by his father to defie Pandion the king of Athens, was enamoured of his daughter Progne, wher­by betwéene the Parentes in stéede of fatall enmitie, there insued friendly amitie. When as the bloudie warre be­twéene Atis the king of Libia, and Lycabas the Prince of Assur, was most hot, young Admetus, béeing sent Embas­sadour into Libia, was so stroken in loue with Alcest, one­lie Daughter to his fathers foe, and shee repayed his li­king with such loialtie as death it selfe could neuer dissolue their amitie. If Madame, these premises may perswade you to take pittie of my passions, or these examples induce you, not to let the hatred of our parentes, bée a hinderance of our loue, whether your father reiect mee as a foe, or ac­cept mée as a friend, I doubt not but the destinies will drine the bargaine through, in despight of them and for­tune.

Sir (quoth shée) I confesse, Progne poore wench loued Tereus, but how wretchedly did hee reward her loyaltie? and Scilla was enamoured of Minos her Fathers foe, but howe tyrannously did hee repay her loue with trecherie? Tarpeia betraied y^e Tower of Rome to one of the Sabines whom she most entirely loued, but the méede of her merite was extreame miserie. Shall I then Thersandro sée the traine and yet fall into the trap? shall I spie the nettes, and yet strike at the stale? shall I sée the mishap, and yet wil­fully incurre the mischance? no, I meane not for an inch of ioy, to reape an ell of annoy, for a momēt of mirth, a month of miserie: for a dramme of pleasure, a whole pounde of paine, and by procuring mine owne delight, to purchase my fathers death and destruction. But let this suffice Thersandro to signifie howe I pittie thy passions, and thinke well of thy person, that if my Fathers will might bee framed to my wishe, if hee woulde condescend as I would consent, thou onely art the man who in the way of [Page] marriage should dispose of me at thy pleasure. But sith the frowning state of Fortune denies our loue to haue such happie successe, hope well, and rest vpon this point, that I will alwaies like thée as a friend, though not loue thée as my phéere.

As Thersandro was ready to replie, and to seale vp the bargaine of their loue vpon her swéete lips, Clerophō ­tes came in, who marred all their market, and turned their swéet to sowre: for he gaue Thersandro his answere before Lewcippa, which was this; That he neither meant to ac­cept of the conditions of peace, nor to receiue the tribute, but to claime his due by the doubtfull euent of battaile: That he shortly pretended in person, to visite Orlanio, and within the walles of Alexandria to demand his debt, and that he would bestow his fathers Dukedome vpon a Lord of his called Lucianus, in dowrie with his daughter Lew­cippa.

Thersandro was nothing amazed with the first part of the message: but when he heard how Clerophontes meant presumptuously both to depraue him of his liuing, and de­priue him of his loue, hee was so puffed vp with wrath and choler, as happe what happe would, he fell into these tearmes.

I remember (quoth he) that Caligula the Emperour, pro­uiding a mightie armie to subdue great Britaine, when hée was come to the sea, ready to poste ouer his souldiers in his Nauie, he left off his endlesse enterprise, and set them to gather Cockles. Siphax boldly boasting that hee would bestow the kingdome of Numidia vpon his second sonne, was by Massinis [...]a ouerthrowne, and sold as captiue to the Romanes. I dare not sir inferre comparisons, because they be odious, nor apply the examples, sith time and place for­bids mee: but this I say, that to fish before the net, is al­waies counted folly, and to vaunt before the victorie, is but [Page] vanitie. Yea, and if I had as good right to your daughter Lewcippa, as I haue to the supposed dowrte which you as­signe her, I would in despight of Lucianus and the diuell himselfe, dispose her at my pleasure.

Clerophontes hearing the cholerike conclusion of Ther­sandro, could scarcely bridle his frantike furie from ra­ging without reason against this young youth: yet some­what mitigating his moode, hee breathed out these cruell threatnings.

IF the law of armes (quoth he) did not both safely protect thée, and surely forbid me to hurt thée in that thou art a messenger, I would with such seueritie chastice these thy presumptuous spéeches, as thou shouldest learne hereafter to answere with more reuerence: yet I wish thée not to stand too stiffe vpon this point, least if thou bee so recklesse as to breake the bondes of reason, I be so forgetfull as to passe the limits of the law. Thou hast receiued a determi­nate answer for the Embasse, and heere I charge thée this present day to depart out of my dominions.

Thersandro fearing the tyrannie of this cruell Clero­phontes, presently passed out of the chamber of Presence, taking his leaue of Ladie Lewcippa, onely with louing lookes, which she requited with such glaunces of good will, that they were sufficient signes what insupportable sor­row she receiued by his so sodaine departure: yet knowing that her fancie was incountered with mutuall affection, she draue away the mystie cloudes of despaire, hoping that the Gods séeing their faithfull amitie, would take pittie of their passions, and in time redresse their miserie.

But Thersandro hauing with spéede dispatcht his af­faires (all his traine being set aboord, and they coasting the straights with a luckie gale) was so combered with care, and so ouer-growne with griefe, that he passed no houre, minute, nor moment, without wofull wailing, sorrowfull sobs, and far fetcht sighs: so that the Gentlemen his compa­nions, [Page] supposing that hée was thus painfully perplexed for feare of Clerophontes puisance, began both to comfort and incourage him, not to doubt or dreade the force of the ene­mie, sith his father was able to repulse him, without anie daunger to himselfe, or anie great damage to his subiectes. But these their perswasions coulde no whit preuaile to as­swage his passions, this their incoragement could not cure his care.

But as there is no greater bane to the bodie, than trou­ble of the minde: so Thersandro so long continued in these pensiue passions and carefull cogitations, concealing his griefe so couertly, which so much the more furiously flamed within him, that he was constrained to kéep his Cabbin till his arriual at Alexandria. Where being set on shore, and presently conueied to the Court, he remained for the space of thrée dayes so strangely perplexed, as he was not able to make report of his message: which so griped Orlanio with such inspeakeable griefe, as he wished rather to haue died valiantly with the force of his enemy, than to put the death of his sonne in hazard by passing so perillous a iorney. But Thersandro séeing that sorrowe would not salue his sore, but rather increase his sicknesse: that mourning woulde not appease his maladie, but rather augment his misery: began to take heart at grasse, and within fewe daies began to recouer his former health. And then hee declared to his father what he had in charge from Clerophontes, how hée meant spéedily to wage war against him, & by force of arms to driue him out of his Dukedom, which he had already pro­mised to one Lucianus in dowry with his daughter.

Orlanio hearing this proude presumption of this brag­ging Duke, thought y^e greatest barkers were not alwaies the sorest biters, and that it was far more easie with wordes to obtaine the victorie, than with déeds to attaine the con­quest. Yet, least he might he taken at vnawares, he made a generall muster throughout all his Dominions, pro­uiding in euerie place necessary munition for the defence [Page] of his Countrie. And assembling his Nobility to giue their verdit, who were fittest to be Captains in this skirmish; after some consultation had in this cause, they concluded, that since Clerophontes meant to ioyn battaile in his own person, that likewise he should be Generall of the field, and Gwydonius who surpassed all the rest in martiall exploits, should be Lieutenant, and conduct the armie, which he no sooner heard but he was tormented with inspeakable grief, he began to pull downe his Peacockes feathers, to hang his wings, and crie creake: euerie man hoping to win fame was merry, but he alone mourning: euery man laughed and he alone lowred: insomuch that he was generally sus­pected to be a fearefull cowarde, and that dread of danger draue him into these dolefull dumps. But as they rashly coniectured the cause of his sorrowe, so they mist the nature of his sicknesse: for Gwydonius séeing that of the cruel cō ­flict his calamity should insue, and that this bloudy broyle would bréed his bane, he fel into such solitary surmises, and such musing meditations, that Valericus his opén friend, and yet his secret foe, sought by sundrie meanes to search out the cause of his care: but not beeing able to wring out any thing, either by flattering promises, or fained protesta­tions, he ceased from his importunate sute. But froward fortune brought it so to passe, that Valericus comming by the chamber of Gwydonius, heard him thus desperately discoursing with himselfe.

Alasse (quoth he) I sée the Sunne being at the highest de­clineth, the Sea being at the full tide ebbeth: calme con­tinueth not long without a storme, neither is happinesse had long without heauinesse, blisse without bale, weale without woe, mirth without mourning. For who alate so floated in the flouds of felicitie as I, which now by the sinister meanes of frowning fortune am sowsed in the seas of sorrow, eralted alate to the highest degrée of happines, am now driuen to the greatest extremitie of euill: alate [Page] puffed vp with prosperity, and now pushed downe with ad­uersitie: yea, alate placed in Paradise, and now plunged in perplexity.

Oh Gwydonius, if thy Fathers friendly precepts might haue perswaded thee, if his aduice had béene thy aduertise­ment, and thou hadst carefully kept his counsaile, then by his fore-warning, thou hadst béene forearmed against all mishap and miserie, The force of fickle fancy had not then giuen thee the foyle, Loue had not so lightly procured thy losse, nor the painted shewe of beautie had not so soone pro­cured thy bane. My bane? Why fond foole, beautie hath bred my blisse: fancie hath not giuen me the foile, but hath yéelded me the fort: Loue hath not wrought my losse, but re­quited me with treble gaine.

Hath not Castania requited my loue with loyaltie, and repaied my good will with mutuall affection? Is shée not my Saint, and I her seruant? Are we not contracted toge­ther by loue, and shall continue together by law? May I not dispose of her in the way of marriage at my pleasure? Yes, but what then? The more is my griefe, and the grea­ter my care. For if her presence procureth my delight, will not her absence bréed my despight? If her consent preser­ued my life, will not her contempt inferre my death? Yes. For alas, since the destinies meane to dissolue that fancie hath decréed, since the frowning fates séeke to vnloose that which loue hath linked, since froward fortune meanes to breake the bonds wherein beautie hath bounde vs, since these bloudie broyles will cause Castania, (where before she accepted me for a friend) now to reiect me for a foe: What better lucke can I looke for than a loathsome life, or what better hap can I hope for than horror and heauinesse? Yea, which way so euer I turne mee I see nothing but woe and wretchednesse. For if Orlanio perceiued our liking, how would he storme at our loue? If he knew my chance, how would he fret at his Daughters choice? Woulde hée euer consent, that Castania should match with so meane a mate, [Page] that her Princely personage should bee disgraced with my base parentage, that her calling should be crazed with my slender countenance: no, he would no doubt first banish me out of all his dominions. Tush Gwydonius, would God this were the worst, and then thou mightest hope in time, by some means to redresse this doubt. But if Orlanio shuld know thou wert heire apparant to the Dukedome of Mi­tylene, and only sonne to Clerophontes his fatall foe what torment were there so terrible, which thou shouldest not trie? What paine so pinching, which thou shouldest not passe? What hap so hard, which thou shouldest not hazard? Yea, what death so direfull, which at his cruell hands thou shouldest not suffer? And what if Castania were priuy to thy state, doest thou thinke her so constant as to consent to her Fathers foe? Doest thou thinke shee would wishe the sonnes weale, when the Father wisheth her mishap? No, assure thy selfe if thy state be once knowen, that Castania will most deadly detest thée, which will bee more gréeuous to thée than death it selfe, be it neuer so terrible. Sith then Gwydonius, thou must shortly either go in arms against thine owne Father, or else lose both thy loue and thy life, let not delay bréede daunger, but strike on the stith while the yron is hot. Castania hath promised to forsake both fa­ther, friends, and her owne Countrie, to passe where and whē it pleaseth thée, shee doubteth no daungers, she forceth of no misfortune, she careth for no calamity, she passeth for no perils, so she enioy thy desired companie: and therefore as spéedily as may be, conuey her closely into the confines of Mitylene, before either she know thy staie or thy state. And shall I so practice her with policies? Shall I so sifte her with subtiltie? Shall I put so little trust in her troth, and so small confidence in her constancie, as to conceale frō her any secret? No, come woe, come wretchednesse, come death, come daunger, hap what hap will, I will presentlie impart vnto her my present state, and my pretended pur­pose.

[Page] Valericus hearing this doubtfull discourse of Gvvydo­nius, was driuen into an extasie for ioy, to sée that hee had found such fit meanes, whereby hee might not onely pur­chase the Dukes fauour, aspire vnto honour and dignitie, but also obtaine the loue of Castania: for he meant spéedi­ly to preuent the pretence of Gwydonius, by vnfolding to the Duke the sum of his secret purpose, assuring him­selfe, that after Orlanio knew his parents and parentage, that hée was sonne and heire to Clerophontes, no price though neuer so precious, no ransom though neuer so rich, might redéeme him from the most despitefull death that could be deuised. And of these premisses he inferd this con­clusion, that if the cause be taken away, the effect faileth: that Gwydonius beeing reiected, hee should be receiued: that he béeing despighted with hate, hee should be requited with loue: and vpon this hope he went presently to bewray this matter to Orlanio, whome hee found with his sonne Thersandro, and diuerse other noble men consulting what course they had best take against Clerophontes, whoms Valericus saluted in this wise.

PLato (right worthy Prince) that graue and wise Phi­losopher, whose sentences in all ages haue béene holden as most diuine Oracles, portraieth out in his bookes of his Common wealth, the picture of a perfect Citizen: whose li­niaments béeing first leuelled, hée tricketh vp with these colours, that he loue his Prince loyallie, kéepe the lawes carefully, and defend his Country valiantly, in which thrée pointes (saith hée) consisteth the chiefest dutie of a trusty subiect: This saying of Plato throughly considered, and calling to minde the sundrie good turnes which without desert your Grace hath bestowed vppon mee, I thought if I shoulde not repaie your fauour with faithfulnesse, and your trust you repose in mee with inuiolable troth, I might bee counted a vicious vassall deuoide of all ver­tues, [Page] a trecherous citizen, rather then a trusty subiect, a care­lesse slaue, then a carefull gentleman: yea, a gracelesse mō ­ster, misled w^t ingratitude. I am come (right worthy sir) not to betray my fo, but to bewray my frend, not to discouer y^e falt of my enemy, but to disclose his offence which liueth with me in perfect amitie, in whose company hitherto hath béene all my ioy, pleasure and delight: but since his pretence is greatly preiudiciall to your Graces person, I thought to prefer your profit before mine own pleasure, and the com­moditie of my country, before mine owne priuate conten­tation. So it is, that Gwydonius, whom your Grace hath honoured, and all the Court estéemed, is sonne and heire to Clerophontes the Duke of Mitylene. who by the péeuish policie of his Father, vnder the pretence of seruice, is pur­posed to procure your fatall death, and the finall destruction of your Dukedome. And the better to performe this diuel­lish practise, hée hath contracted himselfe to my Lady Ca­stania, who blinded with his beautie, and inueigled with his wit, hath consented not onely to kéep his counsaile to your confusion, but also closely to conuey her selfe with him in­to his Countrie. Which pretence if your Grace doth not spéedily preuent, you shall find that delay bréedes danger, & that procrastination in perils is but the mother of mishap.

And haue I (quoth Orlanio) brought vp the bird that wil picke out mine owne eies? Haue I fostered vp the Serpent in my bosome that will bréede my bane? Haue I giuen her life, that séekes to yéeld me death? Haue I cherisht her bée­ing young, and will she consume mee béeing older? Was there none to choose but Gwydonius, nor none to loue, but the sonne of her fathers foe? Will shee preferre her lust be­fore my life? her priuate pleasure, before the safetie of my person? Well, as she forgets the duetie of a childe, so I wil forget the naturall affection of a father, and therefore Va­lericus goe spéedily with these noble men to Gvvydonius chamber, and apprehend him, that I may requite his hate­full trecherie with most hellish torments. And Thersandro [Page] sée you that Castania be closely kept vntill we haue caught the traitour, least shee vnderstanding that their deuise is disclosed, she saue her selfe by flight.

Valericus hauing this commission giuen him from the Duke, made no delay, but passed to Gvvidonius lodging with as much spéede as might be: but fortune who after e­uerie chip of mischance, sendeth some lot of good lucke, and after euerie storme of aduersitie, sendeth a quiet calme of prosperitie, so carefully prouided to frée Gwydonius from mishap, that he was newly gone towards Castania, to im­part vnto her this his pretence: but before hee came to her chamber, he was encountered by Thersandro, who stearn­ly taking Gvvydonius by the bosome, pulling out his ra­pier commanded him as a traitour to stand, or else without any farther doome he should féele the dint of death.

Gvvydonius amazed with this sodaine motion, stoode as one in a traunce, neither being able to defend himselfe with worde or weapon, but yéelded himselfe into the handes of Thersandro, who shakt him vp with these bitter spéeches.

THou traiterous wretch (quoth he) as it is impossible for the flame so closely to be couered, but it will be spi­ed: so it is impossible, but that treason, though neuer so se­cret, should in tract of time be disclosed, which now by ex­perience is verified in thee: for although thou hast hether­to falsely fained thy selfe to be a stranger of a forraigne na­tion, thou art now known to be sonne and heire to Clero­phontes that cruell tyrant my Fathers foe, by whose pée­uish policie thou hadst not onely brought y^t commō wealth to confusion, but didst pretend to be preiudiciall to my Fa­thers person, if thy deadly practise and diuelish purpose had not by Valericus his meanes béen preuented. Hast thou béene so trained vp in trecherie, or is thy minde so spotted with villanie, as to repay my fathers good will w^c such bar­barous ingratitude, & to deuise his destruction which sim­ply foresought thy preferment? Yea, to counsell my sister [Page] Castania, not onely to consent to thy desire, but to my fa­thers death? Is this the maner of Mitylene, or the custome of thy country, to be such coosening counterfaites? Well, since I haue happily attached thee as a traitour, and as a villanous rebell, both transgressing humaine and diuine lawes, thou shalt abide the paine and punishment due to such diuellish offenders. Now let thy cruell sire Clero­phontes, free thee from those torments which thou art like to suffer for thy trecherie, and let the Lordes of Mitylene deliuer thee from his handes, who meanes in most misera­ble wise to martyr thee. Yea, let thy Concubine Castania, who is like for her gracelesse disobedience, to sip of y^t same sorrow, sée if her teares will now preuaile to mooue Orla­nio to pittie. No, if Iupiter himselfe sent Mercurie to miti­gate his moode, neither the authoritie of the one, nor the elo­quence of the other might preuaile to pacifie his furie.

GWydonius séeing that not onely his purpose was pre­uented, and his secrets disclosed, but that also Valeri­cus most villanously had accused him and Castania of that which they neuer so much as once imagined, was so per­plexed, and driuen into such dumpes, as hee séemed by si­lence to auerre that which Thersandro had alleadged, yet at last he began thus to reply.

THersandro (quoth he) as I meane not to affirme that which is false, so I will not deny that which is true: but come dolor, come death, come miserie, come martyr­dome, come torture, come torments, I will neither accuse myselfe vniustly, nor excuse myselfe by periurie. I con­fesse Thersandro, that I am sonne and heire to the Duke of Mitylene, and contracted to thy sister Castania, that Clero­phontes, is my father by the law of nature, and Castania my wife by the league of loue: but that I either pretended or purposed to be preiudiciall to Orlanios person, or that Castania was counsailed or euer consented to her fathers [Page] confusion, I not onely deny, but I will proue by combats that Valericus most villanously doth accuse vs of y^e where­of we are altogether sacklesse.

VVHy Gwydonius, (quoth hée) wilt thou séeke to proue thyselfe loyall, when the hearers deeme shee a lyer? or to make a tryall of thy troth, when thy words can haue no trust? Dooest thou think my fathers fury will suffer thée to fable? Dooest thou thinke his wrathfull rage wil abide thy reasons, or that he wil be so patient as to hear thée plead thine owne cause? No, if thou wert as cléer from these crimes alleadged against thée by Valericus as I am: yet in that thou art son to Clerophontes, the coine of Croe­sus, and Kingdoms of Caesar, were not sufficient ransome to redéem thée frō death. But Gwydonius, since thy health hangeth in my hands, and thy life or death is in my power, I will neither bee so bloudy minded as to bréede thy bane, nor so cruell, as to be the cause of thy confusion. The guer­don Gwydonius I craue of this my good will, and the re­compence I claim for this curtesie, is that when thou com­mest to Mitylene, thou certifie thy sister and my loue and Lady Lewcippa, that for her sake I haue procured thy safe­ty, that her perfection hath preserued thée from perill, the loue I beare her hath saued thy life, the dutifull deuotion I owe vnto her, hath redéemed thée from death and daun­ger. And in token of this my vnfeined affection, I will lift my hand against none that commeth from Mitylene, but against Lucianus onely.

Before Thersandro was able sullie to vnfolde his mind, or that Gwydonius had time to yéelde him thankes for the safegard of his life, they heard a great noise, which made Gwydonius flie, and Thersandro hie him hastily to Casta­nias lodging. Now the companie which came, was Or­lanio himself, who certified by Valericus that Gwydonius could not be found, laid not only watch & ward throughout all his Dukedom to attache him, but went in proper person [Page] with his Gard to apprehend Castania, and lay her in close prison, whom he found all blubbered with teares, for that she had vnderstood the cause before of her brother Thersan­dro: Orlanio no sooner spied her thus wéeping, but hée ra­ged against her in this wise.

HAth the force of lone, nay rather the furie of lust (vile wretch) so blinded thine vnderstanding, that to accom­plish it, thou passest not to peruert both humane and diuine lawes? Doth lasciuious affection and fleshly fancy so furi­ously frie within thée, as thou wouldest procure thy fathers death to purchase thy diuelish desire? Could no rules of reason, no pricke of conscience, no respect of honesty, no feare of God, nor dread of man, prohibite thée from pretending such a monstrous mischiefe, as to conclude with my mor­tall foe to worke my fatall confusion? The yong Storkes so tender the olde ones in their age, as they will not suffer them so much as to flie to get their owne liuing. The bird called Apis Indica, being young, séeing y^t olde ones through age growen so weake, as they are not able to waue their wings, carry them continually from place to place on their backs: these sauage creatures haue but only sense, and are obedient, thou hast both reason and sense, and art more vn­naturall: these brute beastes are most dutifull to their Pa­rents, & thou a reasonable creature art most disobedient to thy father: yea, contrarie both to the lawes of nature and nurture, thou séekest to bathe thy handes in his guiltlesse bloud, & without care or conscience, to commit most cruell murther: which is so hatefull to all things, as the senselesse plants and stones most deadly detest such villanie. The O­liue trée so hatefully abhorreth a Parasite, that who so be­ing guiltie of that crime, attempteth to plant it, doth not onely himselfe presently perish, but the tree forthwith wa­neth and withereth. The stone Epistrites, so loatheth this offence, coūting it a fact so repugnant to nature, that it wil not vouchsafe to be worne by a murtherer. And shall I then [Page] lett thee liue, whome the senselesse creatures doe so deadly leath? No, this hand which cherisht thee béeing a child, shal now chastise thee being such a cursed caitife. And with that he drew out his Fa [...]ichon ready to haue stain her, but that Thersandro knéeling downe, desired him that he would not so in his furie forget himselfe, as without the sentence of the law put her to death, but to commit her toward, vn­till the wars betwéene him and Clerophontes, were hap­pily ended; and then vppon more straight examination, if she were found faultie, to assigne her a punishment due for such an offence. Orlanio, somwhat pacified with his sons perswasion, commanded that presently she should bee car­ried to prison, and the Ladie Melytta with her, as an actor in this Tragedie. And that with all spéede they should post the countrie for the attaching of the traytor Gwydonius. Who after that he parted from Thersandro, seeing before his eyes the terrour of torments, and the hellish horrour of death, was driuen forward so with the dread of danger, and feare of imminēt perils, that knowing perfectly the coast of the Countrey, he passed so secretly and spéedily, as hee was not so much as once descried by the Posts that pursued him, but scaped safely out of the Dukedom of Alexandria. Being now without the dint of the Dukes danger, séeing that although he had escaped himselfe, yet hee had left his loue and ladie Castania in hazard of her life, he began thus to exclaime against his owne folly.

AH Gvvidonius (quoth he) what foltie hast thou com­mitted by this fearefull flight, what carefull calami­tie is like to insue of this thy cowardise? in auoyding Scilla thou art fallen into Charibdis, in preuenting one danger, thou art like to be plagued with a thousand discommodi­ties. Had it not béen better for thee to haue died in Alexan­dria, with honor, than to liue heere with shame & reproche, to haue suffered mishappe with Castania, then to linger héere in miseris? Doest thou thinke that she wil euer count [Page] of such a prating Parasite, as will loue her in prosperitie, and leaue her in aduersitie, as preferreth his owne safetie before her securitie, his life before her loue, and draweth himselfe out of danger to leaue her in distresse? No, she will contemne thee as a cowarde, more fit to be mate to some countrie slut, than a match for such a courtly Princess, she will thinke thy greatest faith was but fained ficklenesse, thy forged loue was but filthie lust, thy promises were but periuries, and that thy greatest amitie was but most dis­sembled enmitie: so that of a professed friend, she will be­come thy professed foe, her desire will turne to despite, and her loue to most hellish hate.

Why, alas, would my paine haue pleased her, would my martyrdome haue contented her minde, had my perill pro­cured her profite, or my care her commoditie? Nay, rather would not my danger haue béene her death, my mishap her misery, my torture her torments, and my fatall destiny her finall destruction. By sauing my life in time wee may en­ioy our loue, but by death no hope had béene left for obtai­ning our desire: so that I assure my selfe, Castania will ra­ther allow of my policie by preuenting perills by flight, than mislike of my practise in procuring mine owne safetie. And vppon this point I rest, hoping that the Gods séeing how vniustly Valericus hath accused vs, will in tract of time rid vs from blame, and reward him with shame.

Gwydonius was not more distressed with dolour, than poore Castania was combred with care, to sée so straunge a chaunce, and so sodaine a change, that she who of late was a royall Princesse, was now a ruthfull prisoner, that her fréedome was turned to fetters, her dignitie to miserie, & her happie staie, to a most hellish state: that after flouds of teares which fell from her crystall eies, she burst forth in­to these tearmes.

Alas (quoth shée) what poore Damosell was euer dri­uen into such doubtfull distresse? What Princess was [Page] euer perplered with such dolefull passions? what maid was euer crossed with such mishappe? nay, what creature euer was clogged with the like calamitie? Haue the spightfull Destinies decréed my destruction, or the peruerse Planets conspired my bitter bane? Doth froward fortune mean to make mee a mirror of her mutabilitie, or is this the re­ward that Cupid bestowes vpon his Clyents? Is euery one that doth fancie, maimed with the like misfortune, or is Love alwaies accompanied with such haplesse lucke? A­las no; for their loue is lawefull, and mine lewd and lasei­uious: their fancie is fixed vpon vertue, and mine vppon vanitie: they make their match with consent of their Pa­rents, and I my market without my Fathers counsaile? so that I am like in choosing such chaffer, to chop and change and liue by the losse: yea, to buy repentance at an vnrea­sonable rate. Had it not been better for thée Callania, to haue condescended to y^e requests of Valericus, than consen­ted to the suite of Gwydonius? to haue liked thine owne Countrey man, than loued a straggling stranger: to haue satisfied thy selfe with assurance, than vainley to fish for hope? Trueth, but what then? Can the strawe resist the vertue of the pure Ie [...]? Canth flaxe resist the force of the fire? Can a louer withstand the brunt of beautie? fréeze, if hée stand by the flame? peruert the lawes of Nature, or eschue that which is framed by the fates, or flie from the force of fancie? No, for who so escapeth the deadly dartes of Cupid shall be scorched with his fire, and shée that with the dewe of chastitie quencheth his flame, shall be ouerta­ken with his winges: so that to séeke by flight to eschue af­fection, is foolishly to enterprise that which can neuer be at­chieued.

But alas, If I must néedes lend a listening eare to the allurements of loue, was there none to like but thy Fa­thers foe? How, fond foole, couldest thou shew him curtesie, that intendes to repay thee with crueltie? How couldest thou choose the sonne to thy mate, when the Father séekes [Page] thy misery. It is not possible to mixe the bloud of a Ball and a Beare, togither in one vessell. The Lyons whelpes will neuer company with yong Woolues: the Faulcons called Pelagrae, will neuer fl [...]e with the young [...]euerets: and if the Egges of a Crowe and a Curle we be put in one nest, they both forthwith burst in sunder, because there is such ancient enmitie betwéen the olde ones. And wilt thou then be so wilfull to loue him whom thy father doth loath, or so peruerse as to place thy selfe in that parentage, where there is such mortall hatred betwéen the Parents? Wilt thou so farre forget the dutie of a childe, as more to respecte thy fatall enemy, than regard thy naturall Father? But why vile wretche doe I thus fondly fable? though Clero­phontes be my Fathers so, yet Gwydonius is my faithful friend: though the one séeke to procure my paine, the o­ther séekes to purchase my pleasure: though the olde Sire striues to subuert my Fathers state, yet the sonne neuer sought to bee preiudiciall to his person, although that per­iured Parasite Valericus hath most vniustly accused him of trecherie. Shall I then hate him who hath alwaies ho­nored me? Shall I work his wo that wisheth my weale? Shall I be his bane, who hath bred my blisse? Shall I de­test him which serueth me with most déepe deuotion? No, I héere heartily powre out most pittifull playntes to the gods to preserue my Gwydonius from perill, and that for­tune may so fauor him as hée may passe out of Alexandria, without death or danger. What though I héere in pryson pine in payne? VVhat though I sink in sorrow? What though I be distressed with griefe & oppressed with misery? What though I be crossed with care, and cumbered with calamity? Tush, let my father fret and fume in his furie, let my brother rage and rayle, let that traitor Valericus triumph, and all the Countrie most bitterly curse mee, yea, let them martyr mee most miserably, let them tor­ment mee most terribly, yet direfull death shall not feare mée, as long as I know Gwydonius is deuoyde of danger. [Page] For I hope though Fortune frowne, though the destinies deny it, though the fates forsweare it, yea, though the gods themselues say no, yet in time wee shall haue such happie successe, as the loyaltie of our loue, and the clearnesse of our conscience by the lawe of iustice do deserue. And therefore Gwydonius shall be the Planet whereby to direct my doo­ings, hée shall be the starre shall guide my compasse, he shal be the hauen to harbour in, and the Saint at whose shrine I meane to offer my deuotion.

Castania hauing thus discoursed with her selfe, she de­termined when the wars were ended, if shée could haue no hope to enioy the loue of Gwydonius, to confesse her falts and to sue for mercy at the barre of her fathers curtesie: not that she meant to liue without Gwydonius, or to loue or like any other, but to prolong her daies in dolour, that shée might most rigorously reuenge y^e villany of Valericus, & by bathing in his bloud she might both satisfie her self, and sig­nifie to Gwydonius how entirely she loued and liked him. But leauing her perplexed with these passions, againe to Clerophontes.

Who frying still in his frantike fury, was not anie whit perswaded to conclude peace with Orlanio, but ha­uing mustered his men, as spéedily as might bée, imbarkt them, and with a lucky gale arriued at the coast of Alex­andria, where the borderers not able to abide his forces, were constrayned to saue themselues by flight. But he as a man hauing exiled from his heart both pietie and pitie, ba­thed his hands in guiltlesse dloud, firing euery fort, batte­ring downe euery bulwarke, sacking each Citie, racing downe the wals to y^e ground, and commanding his souldi­ors vpon pain of most grieuous punishment, not to haue a­ny respect of persons, neither to regard the hoarie hairs of the aged Cittizens, nor the tender yéeres of the sucking in­fants, but to imbrue their blades with y^e bloud of all men, of what degrée soeuer.

Orlanio hearing how Clerophontes had inuaded his [Page] dominions, and with what barbarous cruelty he had mur­thered his subiects, hauing also intellegence by his scowts, that his army was passing huge, the better to resist the fu­rious force of his enemy, hired out of other Countries a great multitude of mercenary Souldiours, so that he ga­thered a maruellous great hoast, wherein was an infinite number indued with great skill and long experience.

Furnished thus sufficiently both with men and mu­nition; like a wise and warie Captaine, séeing that hée no waie else might resist the puissant power of so mightie a Prince, determined without further delay to méet him and giue him present battaile, hauing maruellous affi­ance in the approoued manhoode and vertue of his souldi­ours.

Clerophontes likewise béeing of such a valiant and in­uincible courage, as hée séemed from his infancy to be vo­wed to Mars and martiall affaires, manfully marched for­ward to méete with his enemies: which he performed so spéedily, that within few daies, both the armies were with­in view: which Clerophontes séeing, hée began to incou­rage his souldiours on this sort.

ALthough most trusty Subiectes (quoth hée) I neither doubt of your prowesse, nor haue cause to feare your manhood, as hauing mine army fraught with the most cou­ragious Captaines, and bouldest blouds of Mitylene, yet I with you to consider how desperately we haue aduentu­red vpon the conquest of this Dukedome, which if we at­chieue, we shall not onely gaine perpetuall fame and re­nowme, but reap such riches & treasure, as shal sufficiently counteruaile our trauaile. But to obtaine this victory wée must behaue our selues valiantly, neyther dreading any danger though neuer so desperate, nor doubting any perill though neuer so fearefull. Before our face we haue our e­nemie, behinde our backes the surging seas; so that fight [Page] we must, but flie wée cannot: in being couragious wee winne the field and returne conquerours: in prouing co­wards, wee both lose our liues and the conquest: if wee foile our foes, wee returne with triumph: if we faint and flie, we haue no hope of safetie, but death and desperation is imminent. Be then hardy to hazard, and valiant to ven­ture amidst the prease of your enemies, that daunted with your valour, they may be forced to fly, & wee both triumph and enioy the treasure.

CLerophontes hauing thus louingly incouraged his souldiers, Orlanio on the other side séeing his men began to feare the force of the enemie, and were amazed w^t such a monstrous multitude, prickt them forwarde with this parle.

THat mightie Monarch Alexander y^e great, who for his martiall exploites was a mirrour to all his posteritie, whose prowesse was such, as he daūted Darius, and by his inuincible courage made a conquest of the whole worlde: hearing on a time one of his Captaines to demaund what multitude was in their enemies campe, answered, that it was not the point of a good souldier, to inquire how many the enemies were, but where they were: meaning that to feare the multitude is rather the signe of cowardise, than a token of courage. Which saying I wish you carefully to consider; that y^e huge armie of Clerophontes neither amaze your minds, nor abate your valour, sith that the equitie of our cause doth more than counteruaile his companie. He inuadeth our realme without reason, & wee defend but our owne right: he cruelly secketh to depriue vs of fréedome & we lawfully do maintain our own libertie. He tyrannous­ly striueth to make vs bondslaues, and we fight to frée our selues from captiuitie. If he preuaile let vs look for no pitty, but y^t we shalbe murthered without mercy, we shall sée be­fore our face our wiues rauished, our daughters defloured, [Page] our parents put to death, our children slain, our goods spoi­led, our Citie sacked, and our selues brought to vtter ruthe and ruine. Sith then we are placed betwéen two extremi­ties, either to possesse our own with plenty, or to passe our liues in penurie: let vs valiantly venture whatsoeuer wée gaine, let vs fight without feare: for better it is to die with honour, than to liue with shame.

BY that time Orlanio had ended his Oration, the armies met in a plaine, within thirtie leagues of Alexandria. Where both of them ordering (as became good Captains) their people, there began in the breake of the daie the most cruell and terrible battaile that earst was heard of, consi­dering the number on both parts, their experience and poli­cie, with the valiant prowesse and courage of the captains. Thus continued they in fight, euen almost vntill Euen, with marueilous slaughter on both sides, the victorie yet doubtfull, till in the end the Alexandrians began to faint and flie, more oppressed with the excesse of the multitude, than distressed for want of manhood: for there weretwo and fortie thousand slaine, but not one taken prisoner, and of Clerophontes company eight and twenty thousand flaine, and sixe hundered mortallis wounded. This monstrous massacre, and fearefull slaughter, so amazed the minds of these two Captaines, that for the better burying of y^e dead, and healing of them which were hurt, they concluded a truce betwéene them for fiftéene daies, in which time Orla­nio sent Ambassadours to parle of peace with Clerophon­tes, but in vaine: for hee was resolued either valiantly to die in the field with glorie, or to inioy the Dukedome of Alexandria with renowme. Yet as a worthy Prince pre­ferring the securitie of his souldiers before the safetie of his owne person, he offered them the combat, which Orla­nio to auoyd the effusion of blōud, most willingly accepted. Now it was agréed and concluded betwéene them, that two champions might be chosen, who by the dint of the [Page] sword should stint the strife betwéene these two armies. It he of Mitylene remained victor, then Orlanio should not onely pay his former tribute, but deliuer vp his Duke­dome into the hands of Clerophontes. But if the Alexan­drian obtained the conquest, the Duke of Mitylene should peaceably depart the Countrie, release the tribute, and also resigne his state, and become a subiect to Orlanio. And for the better keeping and confirming of these conditions, they presently dispatcht Embassaders to Fernandus y^e king of Bohemia, to intreat his Maiestie that he would vouch­safe to become iudge in the combat: who for that hee wished well to both these Dukes, graunted to their requests, and with as much spéedes might be, came to Alexandria. But in the meane time there was some difference about the champiōs: for Clerophontes said, that sith in losing y^e feld consisted the losse of liuing, life, and libertie, and in getting the victorie the gaine of a Dukedome, be would in proper person fight the combat, and trie the chaunce of Fortune, and therefore made a challenge to Orlanio. But her fin­ding himselfe faire vnfit to resist his [...]uri [...]us force, refused it. Yet premising, that none vnlesse he were descended of Nobilitie, should enter the l [...]sts, wherewith Clerophontes was very well contented. Now while this truce continu­ed, which was prolonged for thirtie daies, it was law­full for them of Alexandria to come and view the campe of Mitylene, and for the Mitylenes to goe and see the Cittie. Whereupon, Clerophontes desirous to sée Orlanio & his Court, went onely accompanied with his guard to Alex­andria, where he was most royally entertained, and sump­tuously feasted by Orlanio, both of them remitting the ri­gour of their malice, till it should be shewed in [...]ffect, by reason of their manhood. But as soone as Thersandro and the other Lordes sawe Clerophontes, that he was rather a monster than a man, hauing each limme so strongly c [...] ­ched, each part so proportioned, so huge of stature. & so fierce of countenance, they were so daunted with the sight of his [Page] person, as they almost feared to came in his presence, say­ing: that thrée of the boldest bloudes in Alexandria were not able to abide the force of Clerophontes. Who now peaceablie departing to his hoast, left Orlanio as greatly perplexed for assembling his nobilitie together, amongst whom he appointed the champion should be chosen. They not onely with one consent withstood his command, but be­gan to murmure and mutine against him, cōdemning him of follie that he would so vnaduisedly commit his owne state and their staie to the doubtfull hazarde of one mans hap. Orlanio seeing that it was now no time to chastise this their presumption, vnlesse hee meant to raise ciuill dissensi­on in the cittie, which were the next way to confirme the enemie, and bréede his owne confusion, he dissembled his choler, and began to worke a newe way. For first he fréed Castania out of prison, then made generall proclamation throughout his Dukedome, that what Lord so euer with­in his land would trie the combat with Clerophontes, if he remained victor in the conquest, hee would not onely giue him his daughter Castania to wife, let him possesse peace­ably the Dukedome of Mitylene as her dowris, but be con­tent to acknowledge him as his liege, & pay him tribute, as he was wont to Clerophontes.

While he lingred and listned how this proclamation would preuaile, Castania hearing this seuere sentence, and dolefull doome pronounced, seeing that she should not one­ly be forced to forsake Gwydonius, but be constrained to match in mariage with one whom she should neither loue nor like, burst forth into these bitter complaints.

ALasse (quoth she) how pinching a paine is it to be per­plexed with diuerse passions, what a noysome care it is to be cumbred with sundrie cogitations, what a woe it is to hang betwéene desire a [...] despaire, and what a hell it is to houer betwéene feare and hope? For as to him which is assured to die, death is no dolour, in that he perfectly knows [Page] there is no salue can cure his sorow, so to him which feares to die, and yet hopes to liue, death were thrice more wel­come than to linger in such doubt. In which cursed case a­las my care consisteth: for as out of the riuer Cea in Sici­lia but flesh most fearefull flames, and yet the streame is passing colde, neither is y^e water able to quench the fire, not the fire cause the water to be hot; so the heat of hope flameth out of the chilling fountain of feare, and yet the force of the one is not able to asswage the vehemency of the other, but still my heauy heart is diuersly assayled with them both.

If my father Orlanio win y^t conquest, I doubt my desire shall reuer haue happy successe: if Clerophontes triumph as victor, I greatly feare his cruelty is such, as I shall not escape most hoplesse death. And yet again, I hope that then my owne Gwydonius will accept me for his, and with tri­umphant armes embrace me. But alas, wil Clerophontes suffer him to match with his mortall foe, wil hée not rather preuent it by my perill? Yes no doubt: if he returne with triumph my father shall serue him as a subiect, my brother shall become his vassall, my friendes shall bee forelorne, my Citie sackt, and my natiue Countrie brought to vtter confusion. And shall I for the loue of a Stranger wish these straunge Stratagems? Shall I to féede mine owne fancy, and content my lusting minde, wishe my Fathers death, my Brothers bane, my Friends mishap, my Coun­tries confusion, and perhappes my owne miserie? For though Gwydonius loued mée when our Parents were friendes, hée will not now like me being foes: but to re­uenge the iniuries my Father offered him, will subtilly séeke to sacke mine honour and honesty, and so triumph of my shame and discredite. Had I not better pray my Fa­ther may winne the combate, and then shall I bathe in the streames of blisse, and flowe in the flouds of felicitie, then shall I dread no daunger, no feare, no perills: then shall I sée my father, friends, and Country, flourish in most happie prosperitie: then shall I enioy some iollie Gentleman, [Page] who will loue mée being young; and cherish me being olde, and possesse the Dakedome of Mitylene for my downe. And canst thou Castania be so ingratefull, as to will his woe which wisheth thy weale? to desire his destruction which prayeth for thy prosperity? Canst thou be so coue­tous as to craue that for thy possession, which is thy Gwy­donius patrimonie? or so suspicious, as to accuse him of trechery, which hath bin but too trusty: to count him a coun­terfaite, which hath alwaies béene constant? No, come what come will, let froward Fortune fauour whom shée please, so I maie ioy and safely enioy my only ioy Gwydo­nius.

As Castania had thus ended her complainte, Gwydo­nius who all this while lurked about the borders of Alex­andria, heard what successe Orlanio [...] affaires had with his Father Clerophontes, how varie fews or none at all durst trie the combat with him, that his loue and Lady Castania was the prise that hée should get that gained the conquest. Which things considered, supposing that Castania had cast him off, and that she plaid, Out of sight, out of mind, by a secret and trusty messenger, hee presented her with this Letter.

[Page] CAstania hauing receiued this Letter, séeing that no si­nister chaunce of fortune was able to change the fixed fancie of Gwydonius, conceiued such assured hope in his constancie, as now shée thought his troth was filed with no spot of treachery, that his faith was quite deuoide of flatte­rie, & that whatsoeuer chaunced, she might safely repose hir stay and state in his loyaltie. Insomuch that to drine out the euill opinion which she thought her brother Thersan­dro had conceiued of Gwydonius conspiracie, she secretly shewed him the Letter: which after he had read ouer, and carefully construed euery clause, hee began both to detect and detest the villanie of Valericus, destring his sister Ca­stania that shee would earnestly perswade Gwydonius in disguised apparel spéedily to repair to her ledging, promi­sing with solemne vowes and sacred oathes, not to be pre­iudiciall to his person: Castania affying greatly in her bro­thers faith, and destrous to haue a fight of her louing Gwy­donius, returned him these few lines.

GWydonius hauing carefully construed ouer the con­tents of this louing Letter, although the rigor of Orla­nio might haue giuen him sufficient cause of suspicion, yet the cléerenesse of his owne conscience, and the loue he bare to Castania, would not suffer him either to suspect any trea­son, or to doubt of any deceit, but determined without any delay to put the safetie of his person and the safegard of his life into her handes. But leauing him to bring his purpose luckily to passe, againe to Orlanio.

Who séeing that his proclamation coulde not preuayle, and that his Nobles preferred their owne safetie before his securitie, was perplexed with such hellish passions, & gri­ped with such pinching griefe, as the Ghostes tormented with grisly fiends, felt no such haplesse furie. To fight with Clerophōtes, hee felt his strength farre vnfit to resist his force: to denie the combat, he neither could nor would, al­though he brought himselfe to confusion, & his children to captituitie: so y^t howsoeuer he turned himself, he saw before his face death and despaire, woe and wretchednesse, mishap and miserie. Combred thus with this curelesse care, and sitting solitarily in sorrow, séeing the dismall day drewe on, and hearing that Fernandus y^e king of Bohemia was lately [Page] landed, he fell into more furious passions, vntill he was driuen out of his dumpes by his sonne Thersandro: who perceiuing his father thus dolefully daunted, he beganne most louingly to comfort him, promising that since none durst venture to deale with Clerophontes, hée himselfe would fight the combat, and either worthlly win the con­quest with renowme, or manfully die in the fielde with honour.

Orlanio hearing the bold courage of this newe cham­pion, felt his sorrow somewhat salued by this profer, per­swading himselfe that his sonne was better able to abide the brunt than he, and hoping that the Gods would fauour the equitie of the cause, and assuredly by iustice graunt him the victorie. Resting I say, vpon this hope, and than­king Thersandro for his naturall affection, and praysing him for his noble courage, he presently went to méete Fer­nandus, whom he most princely entertained, conducting him very royally into Alexandria, where he most sumptu­ously sealled him and all his traine. But as they passed a­way the time in pastime and pleasure, so poore Thersandro spent the day in dolour, and the night in sorrowe. For al­though to comfort his father hee made light of the com­bat, and valiantly offered himselfe to trie the chaunce of fortune, yet seeing his enemies force far to excéed his féeble strength, hee began to faint, although like a worthy Gen­tleman he couered his dreadfull courage with a desperate countenance, raunging vp and downe the fields to driue away his melancholie: where by chance in disguised appa­rell he met Gvvidonius, to whom after some parle past betwéene them, he bewrated the whole state of the matter, how he was to enter combat with Clerophontes, and that he doubted greatly of the euent of the victorie, fearing the force of his Father, and fainting at his owne unbecillitie. Which Gwydonius hearing, hee made this short an­swere.

[Page] THersandro (quoth hée) it is vaine with long talke to passe away the time when delay bréeds danger, and folly to hope for faire weather when the Aire is ouercast with cloudes: leauing off therofore all oathes to confirme my faith, thus much to the purpose. If it please thee to trust me without tryall, and to giue any confidence to my words, I héere promise both to make manifest my loyall loue to Castania, and to repaie thy courtesie; that I wil, re­sembling thy person, and disguised in thy armour, enter combat with my father Clerophontes, eyther intending by winning the victorie to obtaine my will, or by losing the conquest to want my wish: if this my profer please thée, I will passe priuily to the Court: if not, good Thersandro, let me go as I came.

Thersandro, commending the subtill deuise of Gwydo­nius, carried him as couertly as coulde be to Castania, to whom hée was farre more welcome, than soone come, re­mayning closely in her closet til the next morning. Casta­nia notwithstanding knowing nothing of their pretence, Fernandus king of Bohemia, the next day being gone with al his Nobility to the place appointed for the combat; Or­lanio, Castania, and all the Lords of Alexandria, clad in mourning attire followed him, thinking this dismall daie should bée the date of their destruction. And Clerophontes as a balefull wretch thirsting after bloud, and glorying in the hope of his supposed conquest, stoode in the listes, expec­ting his fatall foe. To whome Gwydonius his sonns fur­nished with the armour of Thersandro, presented himselfe. Who séeing, that forced by the fond allurements of Loue, he was to fight, not with his mortall foe, but with his na­turall father, he fell into these doubtfull dumps:

Alas poore Gwydonius (quoth he) how art thou combred with diuerse cogitations? what a cruell conflict doest thou finde in thy minde betwéene loue and loyaltie, nature and necessity? who euer was so wilfull, as willingly to wage [Page] battaile against his owne father? who so cruell as to enter combat with his owne sire? Alas, dutie perswades mee not to practice so monstrons a mischiefe: but the deuotion I owe Castania, drines mee to performe the déede, were it thrice more dangerous or desperate. The honour I owe to my father, makes mée faint for feare, but once to ima­gine so brutish a fact: the loue I owe to Castania, constray­neth me to defend the combat, if Iupiter himselfe made the challenge. And is not (fond foole) necessitie aboue nature? is not the lawe of loue aboue King or Keyzar, Father or Friends, God or the diuell? Yes. And so I mean to take it: for either I will valiantly winne the conquest and my Castania, or lose the victory, and so by death end my mise­ries.

With that the Trumpets sound, and Gwydoniu; lu­stily leaping into the lists, fell presently into furious fight with his Father, driuing not onely Fernandus and Orlanio but also both the armies into a great doubt. For although Clerophontes most cruelly prosecuted him, yet he alwaies receiued the strokes, but neuer so much as once returned one blow: til at last looking aloft, & spying Castania, his cou­rage increased, that all feare set aside, he carelesly slang a­way his sword and shield, and ran vpon his Father, not on­ly tearing from him his Target; but, violently casting him vpon the ground and spéedily vnlacing his helmet, offered to cut off his head with his owne sword: but Clerophon­tes crying out confessed himselfe captiue, and graunted his enemy the conquest. Wherupon they of Alexandria, gaue a mighty showt, and Fernandus and Orlanio came downe ready to carrie Clerophontes captiue to the Cittie. But Gwydonius first demaunded of Orlanio if he was content to perform that which he promised by proclamation: to whō Fernandus answered, that both hee would and should; or else as he was his friend, so he would be his fo. Gwydonius hearing this faithfull assertion of the King, pulling downe his heauer began to speak in this manner.

[Page] I Let thee Orlanio (quoth hée) and the worthy king of Bo­hemia to know, that I am Gwydonius, sonne and heire to this conquered Clerophontes, who for the loue of thy Daughter Castania, haue not spared contrary to the law of nature to fight with mine owne Father; hoping the desti­nies by my meanes haue decréed not onely of fatall foes to make you faithfull friends, but to finish vp your loue, which otherwise could not haue béen performed.

I haue wonne Orlanio my Fathers Dukedome by vic­tory, and thy daughter by conquest: the one I had before by inheritance, and the other by loue, yet I would willing­ly haue thy good will, which if thou grant, I hope my father wil both pardon my offence, and think well of my proffer.

Clerophontes kissing and embracing Gwydonius, told him his care whas half cured, in that such a good captain had wonne the conquest. Fernandus and Orlanio stoode astoni­shed at this strange Tragedy, doubting whether they dreamt of such a rare deuise, or saw it in effect. At last Or­lanio, as one wakened out of a trance, with trickling tears imbraced Clerophontes, honoring him as his soueraigne, and promising not onely to giue Castania to Gwydonius, bus also halfe his Dukedome in dowrie. Clerophontes thanking him for his curtesie, consented most willing­ly to this motion: so that before Fernandus depar­ted, the marriage betwéen Gwydonius and Castania, Thersandro and Lewcippa was most sumptuously so­lemnlzed.