Saturne.

I Am sory Venus, that thou art des­cended from mee beeing a God, or that the destinies (not to bee con­trolled) haue appointed thee for a Goddesse: but especially that thou art one of the vii. Planets, whose celestiall influences are predomi­nant in terrestiall creatures. I heare the complaints of thē which are skilfull in the calculation of natiuities, exclaiming against thy thrise accursed constellation, for by thee, Venus, the prime of yeeres which ought to bee spent in vertues, is consumed in idle vanities. Youth whiche in the golden age delighted to trie their vertues in hard armours, take their onely content in delicate and effeminate amours: through thee young mindes are blinded with lasciuious loue, and a­ged yeeres pestered with fresh affections: thou doest inchaunt the heartes of men with vnfitte fancies, and layest beauty as a snare to intrappe vertue. Loue (as they whom haplesse experiēce hath taught make report), is the onely plague which infecteth the myndes of mortall men, and what daungerous euentes proceede of this franticke impression, springe, fond Venus, of thy accursed influence: so that if the Gods woulde bee ruled by me, thou shouldest not onely be depriued of thy place among the Planets, but exiled from all dignitie in the heauens and deny­ed to haue any more power vpon earth.

Venus.

Saturn, if Gods might waxe old as they are immortal, I wold thinke age had made thee doate, but I neede not deceyue my selfe, for it is thy accustomed melancholy that driueth thee in­to these bitter inuectyues. Thou art sorie that I am come of thy lyne, and I therefore discent because the destinies haue ap­poynted my progenie from such a peeuish Parent, whose celesti­al (but infortunate) impression ioyned with a perpetuall vnluc­kly irradiation, breedeth both in mens mindes and bodies such haplesse passions sawsed with so bitter and wofull euents, as I sorrow to heare their cursing complaintes, and shame to descēd from the race of such a despised Planet: whereas contrary in the course of al configurations, whether I be in some improper and sinister house, or my vertue darkened with some vnlucky aspect either in Coniunction or Opposition, yet the mildnesse of my influence doth alwaies mittigate, though not extinguishe, the cruell disposition of all other infortunate starres. And further syr, to shew that your inuectiue sauoureth more of rancour thē of reason, I say that those natiuities whiche are fauoured wyth my happye aspecte, dispose the minde to a continuall prone­nesse and forwardnesse: vnto pitie, friendshippe, amity, and loue. Loue: yea, Loue I say, as neither God nor man iustly can gain­say, which oft times pacifieth displeasures among heauenly po­wers, and appeaseth debates among earthlye creatures. It is y^• enemie to dissention, the friend to quiet, yea the preseruer & con­seruer of humane actions, so that what is done well, either is loue, or proceedeth from loue. But Saturne, let those two crab­bed Philosophers, who hated loue, and fed vpon gall and melā ­choly, I meane Timon and Aparmantus: come forth, and thou shalt heare them with bitter curses accuse thy Saturnine com­plexion, to be the spur that prickt them forward to their despe­rate philosophie,

Mars.

Truth Venus, & therefore Saturne for a while by the consēt of his own son Iupiter, was most iustly exiled, for y^• through his peeuish frowardnes, neither could the gods agree in heauen, nor [Page] men vpon earth.

Iupiter.

Mars, you mistake the matter: my father Saturne is the most noble of all the planets, for his influence is principally predo­minant in age, wherein vayn thoughtes and fresh affections are suppressed, and wisedome onely beares swaye, breeding in mens minds a hatefull contempt of vice, and a happie desire of vertue, & therfore the golden age wherin al liued iustly was called Ae­tas Saturnea.

Luna.

Tush Iupiter, blame not Mars, his hande is on his halfepe­nie, he plaieth like the Lidian stone, which rubbed with the iuice of Mandrake becommeth hot where before it is most colde. Ve­nus is the goddesse of beauty, and will loue: Mars a god, & must loue: let not his broken coyne stand for starling, for he speaketh of affection: all the Gods either do know it or may know it.

Mars.

Luna, your reproch maye bee counted a praise, for there is no hold to be taken at your words, whose verdict is so variable, y^e ere Iupiter can turne his backe, you wil chaunge your tale, ne­uer singing one soug [...]e, nor remaining in one mynd, least if your censure should at any time be al one, you might be thought not to be Luna. But it is for you to talke with the goddesses not with the Gods.

Saturne.

Mars, Luna hath reported as much as she can proue, and yet no more then we know, but letting her defend her own quarrel, I say, that respecting your own lucklesse constellation, it were most fit for you to hold with Saturne, for wrath, enuie, warres, choler, bloud, murther, hatred, proceedeth frō your influence.

Mercurie.

Not so Sir, in this I will speake for Mars, hee breedeth in mens mindes valour, prowesse, magnanimity, courage, constan­cy, resolutions, without feare, & setled determination, without change.

Iupiter.

And you Mercurie, pollicies sleights, faire promises & small [Page] performance, causing men by your variable impression to flatter friend or foe, to sweare in mouth, and for sweare in hart, to beare two faces vnder a hood, to carry a Lamb in his shield, and a Ty­gre in his bosome: with the one hand to present spice, and wyth the other hemblocke.

Sol.

Is it not a shame, right mightye Gods, that your grauities shuld be so blinded with raging choler as to your own discredit, to rippe vp those thinges which ought not so much as in secrete to be thought or named: cease then from these despiteful taunts and let vs washe downe these bitter wordes with a cup of sweet nectar.

Saturne.

Not so Sol, we will haue Venus wanton toyes discouered in heauen, that her lasciuious alluremēts may be auoided on earth, I will proue her by inuincible arguments, to be the most perni­tious of all the Planets, and if she and the rest of the Gods bee content sith in order thou art placed in the midst of vs all, thou shalt be moderator in our controuersies.

Venus.

No doubt saturn, a good motion, for now thogh I cānot re­uenge thy vniust iniuries by force, yet I may plague thee with my tongue, in telling the truth. I am content to accept Sol as an indifferent Iudge, whose doome once pronounced, shal stand without controlment. I will therefore to confirme my former reasons, first, make a perfect description of Saturnes essentiall estate, then shew by a historie not vnknown to you al, what hap­lesse mischiefes proceed from his infectious influence.

Sol.

Sith I am by these sacred Gods appointed Moderator in this controuersie, I ordaine first, that Venus say her mind both in the description of Saturnes essence, and in rehearsing her hi­storie, vntill the ende whereof without anye quarrellous inter­ruptions I enioyne you al to silence.

Venus Astronomicall description of Saturne.

RIght mightie Gods, the Chaldeans, Arabians, Greci­cians and Latinists, most skilfull interpretors of celestiall misteries, doe with Claudius Ptolomeus and Galen call the starre of Saturne intemperate, infortunate, and ill affected, per­haps for the melancholie humor which with a secreat violence doth rage and raigne in humane bodyes, procuring by his Sa­turnine influence, both cold and drinesse, as Ptolomeus in Li­bro primo Apotellesmaton, doth witnesse in these woordes: [...] &c.

The star of Saturne is especially cooling & somwhat drie: which two improper qualities, although proper to his nature, how they do ex diametro repugne those two pretious tempera­tures of humane life, I meane heate and moysture, there is no man so simple which doeth not perceiue. The nature of this starre therefore is most prone to infect and corrupt: and yet of force I must confesse that this Melancholie humor doth not in all things, and through all things, so equally exercise his force and vigor, nor so totally and determinately make such dismall infusion, but that he hath his particular commodities. For as with confections tempered by Arte, the Phisitions sometim [...]s procure good and holesome effectes: So from this starre (al­though infortunate) ioyned in good and perfect temperature, mixtion, and irradiation, with other starres, do ensue no meane and small commodities, but haec aliena non sua sunt: Whereby we euidently perceiue, that to what Art or Science so euer the Saturnists apply their minds & diligence, in that, for the most part, they do easely excell all others: To auer the which, Plato and Aristotle do agree, writing that they which in al ages haue flourished in witte, Philosophie, Gouernement of common weales, Poetrie, or any other Artes were al of a melancholick constitution: as Socrates, Pericles, Demosthenes, Archi­medes, Vlisses, Scipio, Aaiax, Acneas, Democritus, Galen, Cesar, Virgil, Hercules, and innumerable other of the same [Page] sort: whom for their continuall studies incessant labours, pro­found inuentions and deepe cogitations, the historiographers haue reported to be such.

Here further is to be noted that Saturne with his Melan­cholie humor doth not erect in all bodies his influence equallie, but representeth and resembleth the nature of Wine, which for a certaine Idiot [...]opian of bodies and varieti [...] of natures, doeth not affect all with the selfesame manner of dronkennesse, for some it mooueth vnto babling, some to striefe, other to vomite, some to sylence, many to sleepe or laughter, and some vnto rage and choller. So Saturne with his Melancholie humor doeth moue some vnto laughter, as Democritus: some vnto teares, as Heraclitus: others to pratling, as Thersites: some to Elo­quence, as Nestor: to patience and sylence, as Socrates and V­lysses: to feare as Pysander, to myrth as Lucullus, to sadnesse as Crassus, to musing as Archimedes: in fine, it moueth diuers men to diuers affectes, according to the proportion of the quan­titie or qualitie predomynant: All which affectes are styrred vp by certaine fumes and vapors, proceeding from Saturnine and Melancholie blood, which ascend vnto the Tower of the minde and there trouble the vitall spirites and the braine, which, as Galen saith, is the storehouse of the senses, and vitall actions whereof ensue diuerse doubtes, thoughts, reasons, discourses, opinions, studies, and phantasies, according (as I said before) to the variable nature in quantitie & quality of the said Melācholy bloode puffing vp such grosse fumes and vapours as it were out of a hot and fierie matter. For we euidently see that more grosse smokes and smelles, doe proceede from burnt Oke, then from Alder, from sea coale then from wood, from Sulphur then from Frankensence because of the diuersities of their substance pro­per to their particular natures: so this starre procureth di­uerse effectes according to his diuers temperature, for some­time it procureth boldnesse, as in Hercules: and being much adust, fearefull crueltie, as in Aiax, continuing long for the a­bundance of the terrene qualitie therein predominant, but and if it exceede more in coldnesse then either in heate or drinesse, it [Page] ingendreth feare and slothfulnesse as in Pysander & Thersites. By these former reasons it is euident (yee mightie gods) that the infortunate influence of Saturne with his Melancholie hu­mour conceiued intemperately in a grosse and thicke matter, tourneth as it were, to infectious poyson, which in some liuing bodies lieth deade, as Sulphure remoued from the fire: and in other some flameth out as burning brimstone, which not onely burneth but also infecteth all thinges with his troublesome va­poures and smokes. To be short Saturne of himselfe is wholly intemperate, infortunate and ill affected, and if it happen that hee procureth any good effectes, it commeth by the perfect temperature, mixtion, and irradiation of other fortunate pla­nets. But seeing I haue Astronomicallie described the essen­tiall nature of Saturne, I will now lay open the dispositions of his Melancholie Disciples.

A maruelous Anatomie of Saturnistes.

THese Saturnistes are straunge affected [...] laughing once in their life with Crassus making slowe hast in all thinges: carrying Uinager in their breastes: and bying hope with golde: euery where holding the Woolfe by the eares: as full of cyes as Argus: smelling at Onyons, yet eating the seede: in friendshippe doubtfull, smally regarding their neighbours profite: reiecting the Oxen, yet vsing the Carts: brought vp in Heraclitus house, and taught in the Schoole of the Areopagite: determining one thing while they sitte, and another as they stande: hardly with olde Foxes caught in the snare: preferring hate before loue: and with one breath blowing both hotte and colde: hardly graunting their right hande to any manne: more inexorable than Rha­damentus: more cruell in speech then the Scythians: vncer­taine in sure matters, alwayes knitting their browes and loo­king downe to the ground: Supping with Hecates, and taking counsaile in the night: gaping for dead carcasses, as Uultures: [Page] seeing bo [...]h before [...]nd behinde as Ianus: hauing eyes in their hands: which beleeue nothing but that they see, and as the Lat­tine prouerbe saith: Ni [...]l nisi quod Aristophanis & Cl [...]antis lu­cernam [...]lea [...] emitten [...] [...] in couetousnesse insatiable: strayning all things through a seue: bearing hope in their face and sorrow fit their hearts [...] knowne more by name then by manners: ty­thing my [...] an [...] [...] s [...]r [...]e: in delayes surpassing Scipio, and Fabius: changing all into [...] as Mydas: so many words, so many senses [...] as hardly changing their hayre, as the Woofe: skilfull Artificers in resembling, or dissembling: delighting to feede on sowre Grapes [...] carying breade in the one hand, and a stone in the other: as vnthankfull as Swallowes [...] in steede of a Fish giuing a Scorpion [...] of companie, doing nothing well but when they die: thinking the sauour of any gaine to be sweete, preferring profite before shame, and requiring tribute of the deade: hauing many eares, and many eyes: bearing a head without a tongue: more dumbe then Fishes: at talke and company, not vttering one worde, and yet Sardonio risu omnia condientes: reaping that which other men sow: ignorant in that they cheefely know, answering all things in three words: fea­ring their owne shadowes, and starting at flies: licking vp salt and feeding vpon gall: giuing haire for wooll, seeking a knotte in a rush: in life resembling cockles: and doing sacrifice with­out any smoake: and thus much for their disposition. Nowe as concerning the diseases incident to the Saturnine constitution which commonly proceede of too much blacke choller, adust or corruption of bloud, cruditye or rawnes: imbecillitie of heart excesse of cold and drynesse, or aboundance of grosse phlegme: they be these: Quartaines, Falling sicknesse, Leprosies, Mor­phes: Canckers, Apostumes, Dropsie, Palsies, Hemoraydes, Bluddy flixe, paine of the Guts and Raines, with other more. As concerning other thinges, the Saturnistes haue their pulses slow and small: sweate, sowex, and heauie: blacke de­iections, terrible dreames, as of death, Carkasses, Sepulchres Darknesse, Torments, Diuels, and blacke thinges: As tou­ching the foure faculties of humaine life, for his secreat mallice [Page] Saturne chalengeth none: although there bee some Phisitions and Astrologers that do attribute vnto him the facultie Reten­tiue. In these few wordes I haue decyphered Saturnes ma­lignant disposition, and nowe by your patience meane to con­firme my reasons with a pleasant, though Tragical, History.

Venus Tragedie.

THere dwelled in the Citie of Ferrare a Duke called Val­dracko, fauoured of his Citizens more for feare, as they were subiectes, then for loue, as they were freemen, honoured of straungers, who had cause to trafficque in his territories, otherwise hated of all, whom neither dutie nor profite had intangled: For this Valdracko being striken in age, was of such a me­lancholicke disposition, as hee ruled more after the crabed fro­wardnesse of his owne doting will, then dyrecting his course to minister Iustice mingled with mercy. Yet in this one thing de­seruing great commendation, that hee was neuer founde to be partiall to any: I meane not that he vsed such a due proportion of Iustice, but that he loued none but himselfe. Polliticke hee was, (taught by the experience of many yeares) hardly admit­ting any into familiaritie, vnlesse he might sell his courtesie for profite, and they buy his fauour with repentaunce. But in pri­uate and secreate counsayles hee vsed no friende but himselfe, fearing to finde that in others which he found rooted in his own canckred stomacke: So skilfull to shadow his spightful prac­tises with glosing coulours, as resembling the Pyrit slo [...] hee burned sorest when he was thought most colde. To trust anie he thought was to despise securitie, and to desire mishappe, and therefore knowne more for his authority, then by his manners. He caried his thoughts sealed vp with silence, pained with that which he most liked: namely, fearefull mistrust. Hee counted great giftes little goddes, caring not if hee might gaine, what meanes hee did vse to gette, counting all thinges honest that were profitable, and thinking Gall most sweete if it were tempered with Goulde, as the euent of his wretched life did [Page] make manifest. For this Valdracko although despighted by the gods and nature, for placing such o [...]ous qualities in such an olde carcasse, yet was hee fauoured by Fortune in posses­sing large and sumptuous reuenewes, and not onely aduaun­ced with the title of honour and dignities: but also, wherein hee most ioyed, he had one onely childe called Pasylla a Ladie, so furnished with outward shape of the body, and inward qualities of the minde, so decked with the giftes of Nature, and adorned with sundrie exequisite vertues, as Ferrara did not so much de­spise hir Father for his vicious disposition, as they did extoll her fame for her vertuous sinceritie. For shee (although to her great griefe) seeing into her Fathers lawlesse actions, howe with pretensed fla [...]tery, like to the Hiena, he had snared some to their vtter mishappe, and that vnder colour of law with exacted extortion, he had oppressed the poore, sought not onely as farre as shee durst, to pull her Father from such inordinate gaines, but also secreatly made recompence to such as her father vniust­lie had almost brought to ruine. This Pasylla florishing thus in happie and deserued fa [...]e, was generally loued of all, but par­ticularly liked of one called Rodento, onely sonne and heyre to an Earle in Ferrara called Il Conte Coelio, who on a time passing by the Pallace of Valdracko, chaunced to haue a sight of the Lady Pasylla, as she stoode in a window talking with a young Gentlewoman, her Cozen Germaine, called Pandyna, Rodento amased at the sight of such a heauenly creature, stood a long while astonished at her excellent beautie, insomuch that Pasilla casting her eye aside espyed him, and with that shut the casement, which somewhat daunted the minde of the young Gentleman to be so sodainly depriued of that obiect which so greatly pleased his eyes. But taking this her modest discour­tesie in good part, he passed on to the Church: where hauing deuoutly heard deuine seruice he retourned home, f [...]eling in his minde a sparkling heat of affection, which he tooke as a toie of youth, rather to be laught at for the sodaine passion, then to be preuented for any insuing daunger. But after he had taken his repast with the Earle his Father, he withdrewe himselfe into [Page] his Chamber thinking to beguile the long sommers day with a fewe sweete slumbers, which fell out otherwise: For being once solitarie he felt his minde perplexed with more vehement and straunge passions: whereas before his affection was scarce warme, now his fancie beganne to flame: the Idea of Pasyl­las comely personage presented it selfe so liuely into Rodentos imagination, as he felt himselfe halfe snared with her singular bewtie: which craftie Cupid noting, hauing his wings plumde with times Fethers, least hee might let slippe occasion, seeing this young nouice at discouert, thought to strike while the yron was hot, and so drew a boult to the head and hitte Rodento at the verie heart, which pearced so deepe as no meanes but death coulde euer after cure his maladie: for then the fame of Pasyllas vertuous life began to allure him, the report which all Ferrara made of her courtesie, was a chain to intangle his free­dome: her honour, birth, parentage, and incomparable beautie gaue such fierce assaultes to his perplexed fancie, as no defence of reason was able to withstand these violent impressions. Ro­dento seeing himself payned with these vnacquainted fits, was driuen into a quandarie, whither he should valiantly resist the inchaunting tunes of Cupids sorcerie, and so stande to the chaunce what so euer the maime were: or else yeelde to the allu­ring call of beawtie, and so spende his youth in seeking, and sing for doubtfull, though desired fauours. Tossed a while in these contrarie thoughts he began to consider at last, that to fixe his fancie vpon Pasylla, was with the young Griphons to pecke a­gainst the starres: and with the wolues to barke against the moone, for there had ben such a perenmitie betweene the house of the Valdracchie and the Celij, that neither the Duke would condiscende his daughter should match with him: nor yet the Earle his father be content y^t he should fancy Pasylla. Further hee knew that as the hearbe Spattania no sooner sprouteth a­boue grounde but it blometh, and the Egges of the Lapwing are scase hatched before the young ones can runne: so wo­men resembling the Apples of the tree Pala, are scarce ripe before they desire to bee pluckte, and their yeares not able [Page] to discerne loue before they behalfe drowned in loue: wherof he might gather that Pasylla being so young, beautifull, and a woman, coulde not liue so long but erre this tyme affection had puld her by the sleue: if then this his coniecture were true, his loue should reape but losse, & his paine be requited with trauel. These considerations began somewhat to represse his doting fancies, but Cupid not willing to take so slender a repulse, sought straight to race out these despayring thoughtes with the comfortable conserues of hope, and to drawe Rodento out of the Labirinth of distrusting feare, with the assured possibili­tie of atchiuing his enterprise. He therefore began to incourage his champion with these plausible coniectures: that although there had beene a perpetual dissention betweene their two hou­ses, yet there might grow as great friendship in their heartes, that the enmitie of the parentes coulde not hinder the ami­tie of the children, that Pasylla was a woman, and therefore to be wonne: if beautiful, with prayses: if coie, with praiers: if proude, with giftes: if couetous, with promises: in fiue, that as there is no stone so harde which cannot be cut, no Hawke so ra­mage which cannot be manned, no Tygre so fierce which can­not be tamed: so there is no woman so infected with the bitter poyson of selfe will, none so spotted with the staine of hellishe crueltie, nor so wedded vnto wilful frowardnesse, but they may be drawne to the lure by some of the forenamed practises. Ro­dento pricked forward with these pithie perswasions, and yet dryuen backe with the feare of some hopelesse denyall, stoode diuersly perplexed, whether hee shoulde with a momentarie content sue after losse, or with a long disquiet seeke after gaine: remaining a while in these doubtes halfe franticke with such vnaccustomed fittes he fell into these passionate com­plaintes.

Ah Rhodento, howe art thou diuersly perplexed? driuen ei­ther to purchase haplesse content with fading pleasures, or to gaine a happie disquiet with ensuing profites: if thou choose the first thou arte like to repente at the last, if the other, suer with Hercules after painefull laboures to obtaine fame [Page] and quiet. The Caspians fearinge to bee stiffled with sweet sauors, weare in their bosomes buds of Hemlock, the peo­ple Pharusii doubting to surfet with drinking the Iui [...] of ly­quorrise, preuent such perils w^t chewing Rhewbarbe. It is bet­ter to be payned with the sting of a snake, and recouer: then bee tickled with the venome of the Tarantula, and so die laughing. Harde, yea [...]ard it is Rodento, to ride on Seianus horse for his beauty, and then perish, or to gaine the gold of Tolosse with as­sured mishap. Better it is for a time with sorow to preuent da [...] ­gers, then to buy fading pleasure with repentance. Repentance? Why Rodento what cause shalt thou haue to repent? Is payn alwayes a companion to pleasure? is daunger the handmayd to loue? is fancy neuer paynted but treading vpon thornes? Yes no doubt, as Cupid hath arrowes y^• doe pierce, so they make sweete woundes. Venus I graunt hath a wrinckle in her brow, but ii. dymples in her cheekes: she frownes not vpon them that sacry­fice at Paphos, but paines such as despise her deitie. Loue Ro­dento, why doest thou loue? yea, alas: and therfore vnhappy be­cause in loue, a passion so vnfit for thy young yeeres, as if thou yeelde to Cupids allurements, thou shalte haue cause either to curse the destinies for appointing him a God, or accuse the gods for creating thee a man. For Loue whatsoeuer y^• lucke be, is al­waies tempered with losse: if thou winne, thy gaines shalbe like theirs, who buy hony mixed with gall, the sweetnes not halfe so much pleasing the tast, as the bitternesse infecteth the stomake. Parrasius drawing the coūterfait of loue, painteth her, tickling youth on the lefte side with a feather, and stinging him on the right with a Scorpiō, meaning that they which are sotted with the sorceries of Cupid, reape for one dram of golde, a pounde of drosse, & for one pynt of pure oyle, a whole tun of infectious poi­son, beeing a fading pleasure mixed with bitter passions, and a mysery tempered with a fewe momentary delightes. It is for youth Rodento, to spend their flourishing yeeres in vertues not in vanities, to delight in hard armours, not in delicate and effe­minate amours, not to dally in the chamber with Paris, but to march in the fielde with Hector, to wish they coulde loue Loue, [Page] not to repent they haue loued. Hercules [...] his fame, not with recounting his lawlesse and lic [...]nci [...]us loues, but by at­chieui [...]g straunge and inuincible labours, the one winning him endlesse renowne, the other vntimely death. Seeke then to bry­dle fancy with reason, and to restrayne d [...]ing affections with due counsaile: quench the flame of appetite with wisedome, and reaching at hon [...]r, spurne at beautie: so maiest thou saye, Venus flames are but flashes, and cal Cupid a despised boye, not a re­ [...]oubted God.

Rodento thinking thus with blaspheming curses to shake off fancies shackles, wēt out of his chāber to sport himself with his cōpanions, where he passed away y^• day in playing at chesse, but althogh hee gaue the checke, he was faine at last to take the mate: for Venus hearing with what despitefull termes, he abu­sed her dietie, thought, seing he despised loue, to make him yeeld vnto loue, & with panting sighes to craue pardō, where with bit­ter speeches he had rayled: she therefore, seeing that he began to make a rampier against fancie, thought to giue a freshe assaulte to his halfe defended fortresse, & to send desire as a Heraulde to make y^e chalenge, y^e beuty as a chāpion might perform y^e charge: which done, Rodento willing still to withstand her power, pas­sed three or foure dayes in perplexed passions, counting loue as a toy, which being taken in a minute, might be left off in a mo­ment: but he foūd y^t as the Abestō stone once kindled, can neuer be quēched, as the Griphon if he once soare into the ayre, wil ne­uer come downe without his pray: so if Venus giue the assault, it is vnpossible to escape without sacking: if Loue display her flagge, she neuer returns without victory, which forced Rodē ­to to present them with prayers, whom he had plagued wyth curses, and where he had shed the blood there to offer the sacri­fice. For the remembrance of Pasillas beauty so fiered his affec­tions, y^t as the flie Pyralis cannot liue out of the flame, nor the bird Trochiles keepe from the infectious Crockedile, so vnles he might inioy y^t which he feared to possesse, no means but death could cure his maladie. Rodento pyning a long while in these doubtful thoughts, began once again to debate with himself in [Page] this fort.

O poore & infortunat Rodēto, thou art perplexed thou know­est not how, pestered with vnfit fancies, and pained with fonde affectiōs, wishing to possesse with an vnwilling mind, & in a hot desire troubled with a colde disdaine. Alas thou reachest at that with thy hand, which thy heart would fayne refuse: playing like the bird Ibis, in Egypt, which hateth serpentes, yet feedeth on their egges. Thou loueth Pasilla, a thing far vnfit for thy yeres, thy calling, thy thoughts. Consider, consider Rodento, thou ar [...] the sonn of Conte Celio, who had rather see thee takē away with vntimely death, then attainted w^t such vnhappye loue, the one should breed but his momētary sorow, y^e other his & thy per­petual misery. Yet loue is a vertue: truth, if it bee measured w^t dutiful choice, not if it be maimed with wilful chance. Is there none to loue but Pasilla the daughter of Valdracko, betweene whō & thy father there hath bin such a mortal emnity? wil she cō sēt to loue, who alredy is sworn to hate [...] wil Celio agree, or Val­dacko cōdiscend? No, nor if thou be wise, wilt persist in su [...]h vnnatural passions: for better were it for thee to die by concealing loue, then liue and enioy such vnfitte loue. The Bul and the Hi­ena cannot be fedde together in one stall. The Elphant eateth not where the mouse hath crept. The Eagle & the Doue, peark not on one braunche. These br [...]te beastes mooued onelye by sence, thou a manne and not to be perswaded by reason? Cease then Rodento to loue her whom thou oughtest to hate, let ri­gour blast fancies blossoms, and enuies shadowes spot beauties colours with disdayne: play like the tree Cytisus, that suffereth no flie to light vpon his flower, let thy mind bee like Hercules temple whereinto no dogge canne enter, suffer not loue to scale that fort wherein freedome hath taken charge, so shalte thou both escape ensuing daungers, and prooue thy selfe a du [...]tifull childe. Ah Rodento, what doest thou meane to measure the Heauens with a lyne? or to furrow the Seas wyth a plough? Seekest thou to extinguishe Loue by force, or to preuent fan­cye by counsayle? Doest thou meane too quenche fire with a swoorde, or to stoppe the wynde wyth a feather. [Page] Thou knowest Loue is to bee feared of menne, because ho­noured of the Gods. Iupiter could not resist fancie, nor Apol­lo withstand affection: they Gods, and yet in loue, thou a man, and appointed to loue. It is an impression Rodento, not to bee suppressed by wisedome, because not to bee comprehended by reasons: without law, and therefore aboue all law: striue not then against the streame, feede not with the Deere against the wind, seek not to appease Venus with slanders, but with sacrifice. Pa­silla is beautiful & vertuous, to be wonne with intreatie, if thou feare not to attēpt. What thogh Valdrecko frown, may not she fauour? he stiffled by Saturne, and therfore must hate, she stirred by Venus, and therefore will loue. If Pasilla like, passe not if he lowre: yea let both your Parentes mislike, so you two rest in contented quiet.

Rodento had no sooner vttered these wordes, but hee felte his mynde halfe eased with flattering hym selfe thus in his follies, so that from doubting if hee mighte loue, hee fell to de­uising how to obtayne his loue: hee began to consider that Val­dracko was his enemie, and that he might not goe to his house, least he should procure his secret harme, for the flattering of an enemie is like the melodie of the Syrens, who sing not to stirre vp myrth, but to allure vnto mishap. Rodento. I say, doubting that Valdrackos melancholy disposition could carrie in a pain­ted tombe rotten beames, durst not venture too farre for slip­ping ouer his shoes, thinking also that if the Earle his Father should know by any meanes of his pretence, he would strayght seeke to preuent his purpose. Seeing then that at this breache there was no way to giue the assault, he determined to meet her as she went abroad, and then to reueale vnto her the summe of his sute, this deuise was not so soon inuented, but it was as rea­dily misliked, knowing that she went continually accompanied with such guarde of the Dukes houshold, that he shuld hardly be admitted to her speech, and if he were, yet he should neither haue fit time nor opportunity, to moue so waighty and secret a mat­ter: Wel, Rodento hauing a spurre in his side to pricke hym forwarde in his enterprise, could take no rest till he might finde [Page] some meanes how to manifest his affections. At last after sun­dry fond thoughts, he determined to send her a letter, which hee knew was such a secrete seruaunt as woulde neither blabbe nor blush, in deliuering his maisters message, but to whō he shoulde commit the charge, he knew not, so that he passed three or foure daies in careful thoughts, till at last he called to remembrance that there dwelled hard by the Dukes house, an old Gentlewo­man called Clarista, who made often repaire vnto the Lady Pa­silla, she, hee thought, was the fittest person to bring about hys purpose, knowing that old women oft times were more greedy of coyne, then charie of conscience, that for lucre they would not sticke to allure young myndes euen vnto vanities, and that not onely she might deliuer the letter secretly, but also temper Pa­sillas mynd (if she were obstinate) with some forcible perswasi­ons. This pollitike inuention pleased Rodento so well, that he determined with all speed to put his deuise in practise: he there­fore presently went into his study and there framed a letter to this effect.

Rodento Celij to the Ladie Pasilla, health and happinesse.

[Page] ROdento had no sooner ended his letter, but [...] al speed h [...] posted to the house of Clarista, whom he found sitting soly­tary in her parlor: Clarista seing Rodento, halfe amased at his vnlooked for arriual, rose vp, and reuerently gaue him a courte­ous welcom, saying: that there could no man in al Ferrara haue come to her house, whose presence woulde more haue contented her desire, protesting that shee was for sundry causes so bounde vnto the Earle his Father, that she would thinke her selfe hap­pye if her poore seruice in anye wyse mighte make a requitall of his benefites, and some shewe of her good wyll. Rodento glad to heare her duetifull and friendlie protestation, thought that nowe all thynges woulde fall out according to his wishe, and therefore thinking to giue her grasse for haye, soothyng vppe her doating flatteries, with as fayre promyses, takyng her by the hand, first charged her vppon her othe and honestie, that shee shoulde most secretely conceale, whatsoeuer at that present time hee shoulde make manifest. Then with carefull lookes, and farre fetched sighes, hee brake the matter vnto her, promysing that if shee stoode his friend with carefull diligence, secretely to deliuer his message, and with some forcible per­swasions to procure Pasilla to take pitye of hys passions, hee woulde so largely and bountifullye requite her friendlye tra­uaile, as shee shoulde haue cause to thinke she dealt for a thank­full person. Rodento hadde not halfe vttered his mynde, ere Clarista with solemne oathes beganne too protest, that shee thoughte her selfe happye that nowe shee shoulde haue some meanes to shewe howe duetifully she was affected to the house Celij, commending greately the noble mynde of Rodento, that beeyng younge, hee had made so wise and woorthye a choyse: promising not onely secrecie in so waightye a matter, but also to vse al possible perswasions to the stirring vp of suche a luckye bargaine. Rodento driuen into an extasie, for ioye of Claristas forwarde diligence, thinking it beste in extre­mities to giue a spurre to a trotting horse: greased her in the fiste wyth a fewe angelles, whiche precious oyntement so soupled her olde ioyntes, that it was no neede to bidde the [Page] [...] wife tr [...], for she presently began to trick vp her selfe tow­ardes hir io [...]rney which Rodento perceyuing, tooke his leaue and departed till the next day, when he promised to returne for an answere of his letter [...] Clarista bidding him farewell after she had taken counsel of her glasse, to paint out her wrinckled face with a few fresh colours (a disease rooted in women from their swathing cloutes, [...]nd not worne out vntill they come in their winding sheet) posted, & in al hast, to the pallace of Valdracko, whither she was curteously intertained by the Lady Pasilla and her Cozen Pandina, whom she found walking in the gallery, for commonly young Gentlewomen are delighted with old wiues doating fables, and directed after their secret counsailes, coun­ting their sayings as Oracles, & thinking that age hath taught them that, whiche as yet their youth cannot conceiue: so that they esteeme it a religion to obserue their fond and superstitions principles: which moued Pasilla greatly to honor & reuerēce Clarista, so that taking her by the hand, & withdrawing themselues aside to a baye windowe, they fell into long and serious talke, but at last Clarista willing, while the fishe was wanton, to caste forth the baytes, presented Pasilla with this letter, desiring her to read it secretly in her chamber, and the next day to deliuer her a friendly and fauourable answere, saying, that partly she knew the contents, which was a suit so fitting for her honor, that if she could condescend to the request, no doubt shee shoulde proue her selfe as wise, as fortunate. Pasilla halfe amased at this vnlooked for message, beganne with the gosling to perceyue what the old goose meant by her wincking, and to feare that the old Pandar suborned by some lewde mate, had attempted to perswade her to some vnlucky match, so that at the first she refused the letter, til at last forced by the earnest intreaty of Clarista to take it, she put it vp in her pocket, promising if it conteyned nothing preiu­dicial to her honor, she would the next day redeliuer an answere. And with that being both satisfied, they went agayne to Pandi­na who all that while was walking alone in the gallerye, pas­sing away the after noone in such endles chat, as women when they meet, can discourse of: till the night drawing on, Clarista [Page] tooke her leaue and departed, Pandina and Pasylla being pre­sently calde to supper: where hauing taken the [...] repast with the Duke, they withdrew themselues to their lodgings, Pan­dina into her bedde chamber, and Pasylla into her closet, where she no sooner came but in hast she vnripped the seales and found the contentes so straunge and vnlookt for, that she both mused and marueiled at Rodentos sodaine passion, and Claristas fond perswasion, laughing at her foolish attempt, and at his (as she thought) dissembled affection: thinking that the young Gentle­man inflamed with a secreat hate, sought to spoile her honestie vnder the couloured pretence of Amitie, and with the crocodile to weepe Rose water at the first, and to spitte venome at the last: For she knewe that there: had beene such mortall hatred betwixt the Counte Coelio and her Father, that as the flames of Eteocles, and Polynires did part in their funerals, so there coulde neuer growe any perfect affection betweene her & Rho­dento. Yet the fame of his exquisite perfection and vertuous qualities, the renowne of his valiant prowesse, and bountifull courtesie, was so blaz [...]e abroade throughout all Farrar [...], that as his friends had cause to commende him for his valo [...], so his verie foes could not condemne him because of his vertues. Pa­sylla calling to minde the perfect proportion of his person, was halfe tickled with a consenting affection: so that if her will might haue stand for a lawe, Rodento had not mist of his loue: but as fancie forced her to listen to his sute, so duetie dr [...]ue her to denie his request, yet with such modest curtesie as the young Gentleman shoulde haue no great cause to unslike of her answere: being in this good minde, she tooke pen and Inke and writ him a letter to this effect.

Pasylla to Rodento Coeli [...] wisheth as shee ought.

PAsylla hauing thus finished her letter, feeling her cyes to be halfe closed with drowsie sleepe went to her bedde thinking to beguile the long night with swee slumbers, but it fell out o­therwise, for Venus willing to fauour such a forward champion as Rodento, thought to yoke the neck, which as yet neuer yeel­ded, and to fire that fancie with a lusting desire, which hither­to hadde beene frosen with a chaste disdaine: shee therefore presented vnto Pasylla the beautie and young years of Roden­to, the vertuous disposition of his minde, wherein he was sim­ple, and the perfection of his outwarde shape wherein hee was singular: in the one, excelling most: in the other, inferior to none: which duelie considered, draue her to debate thus doubtfullie with her selfe.

Ah vnhappie Pasylla, whose minde is pained with vnac­quainted passions, and whose heade is troubled with vne­quall thoughts, shall thy Uirgins [...]ate [...]e stained with fonde desires or thy younge yeares darkened with Cupides shadowes? Tis fitte for thee Pasylla to spende thy youth in laboures, not in loues: to pace solemnelye after Vesta, not to gadde wantonlye after Venus. Maydes muste haue denyall in their mouth, and disdaine in their hearts, so [...]ha [...] they [Page] [...] securely despise fancie, Diana is pain­ted kissing [...], and spotting beau [...]ies face with a Penfel. Uirgi [...]s [...] [...]light in auncient counsailes, not amorou [...] conceits, le [...] in smelling vppon sweete Uiolets, they stumble on bitter [...]. Truth Pasylla, thou gi [...]e [...] good preceptes, if thou canst follow th [...]e owne p [...]ciples. Thou art perswa­ded by Rode [...]o to loue, but take heede of such baleful allure­ments: [...] thy selfe against his charming des [...] with a [...]hast di [...]rine, so shalt thou be [...]er that as he which weareth Laurell cannot be hurt with lightning, nor he that carrieth the penne of an Eagle perish with thunder: so shall neither loue nor fancie paine thee with haplesse passions. Thinke this: Rodento is a man and therefore [...] he saieth, a louer, and so a flatterer: as fickle as the Wol [...]s of Syria, which forget their pray ere they are halfe satiffied: and as dissembling as Iupiter, who feedeth Alcmena for a while with Nectar, and then kil­leth her with fire. Sith then Pasylla, to loue is to loose, feare not Venus as a [...], but [...]espise her as a wanton: intreat not Cupid with prayers, but wi [...]h cur [...]s [...]ell Fancie thou wilt reiect her as a vassal, not regard her as a vertue. For Rodēto, raile against him as thy foe, a [...]swere him not as a friend, burne his letters to despight him, and in steede of curtesie, present him with Me [...]eas inchaunted casket: who is enemie t [...] thy Father but Conte Coelio [...] and who can wish thy mishap but his sonne [...] Doth Rodento loue Pasylla, [...], he hateth Pasilla, he faineth loue to procure thy losse, he flattereth to trie thy follie, and if he finde thee to fond he will bring thee a sleepe with melodie, and then strike of thy heade with Mercurie. Ah Pasylla, condemne not Rodento without cause, if th [...]u [...]nest not to loue him, delight not to lacke him: profer [...] Net [...]l [...]s, sith he pre­sents thee with [...], if he yeeld thee Hony, rub not his hiue with Gall, answere him friendly though thou straine eucresie to flatter: For sweete promises please more then sower giftes, and pleasant po [...]io [...] are better taken though infectious, then bitter [...]i [...]es though most holsome. And know this Pasylla that the [...] of the [...]ill Chymera is to be quenched with hay, not [Page] with water, the mountaine in Harpasa, to be remoued with ones fingar, not with the whole strength; and loue to be driuen out with reason, not to be thrust out with force, least in striuing against Venus she play the woman and seeke to reuenge.

Pasylla had scarce vttered these last wordes, but wearied with doubtfull thoughts and bitter passions, she fell a sleepe, passing away the night with slumbring dreames till the mor­ning that she wooke, and assaulted afresh by Cupid, had falne to her old complaints, had not one of her gentlewomē brought her word that Clarista had waited there a good space to speake with her. Pasylla smiling at the diligent hast of the old Pandar, commaunded she should be brought in, but shee no sooner was within the doore, but Pasylla as one in choller starting vp in her bedde, tolde her she was more soone come then welcome: and that it was farre vnfitting for her aged yeares to be a messen­ger in such a foolish matter: how, as she had before honored her for her graue counsailes tending vnto vertue, so now she would despise and abhorre her as a doting foole, alluring young minds vnto vanitie: that if Valdracko shoulde knowe of her rash at­tempt, he would not onely forbid her his house, but also punish her as a spectacle that others shoulde beware to sollicite any such fonde and vnlawfull sutes, but sith it was the first offence she was content to pardon the fault, and to put vp the iniurie with sylence: marry if either shee shoulde presently vtter any wordes in her owne defence, or euer hereafter trouble her with any such trash, she would cause her father with rigor to reuenge it to the vttermost, and with that shee cast her the letter she had made, charging her to carrie it to Rodento, and to tell him that she so meanely accounted either of his person or parentage, that after shee had opened his letter and sawe from whom it came, she disdained to reade the contents, so that whatsoeuer his sute were, he might keepe it secreat to himselfe: And with that shee layd downe againe, telling Clarysta sith she had heard her mind, shee might depart at her pleasure. Clarista seeing Pasylla in such a fury, durst not stand to defend her former attempt for fear of further danger, but humbly craued pardon if she had done a­misse, [Page] promising both w^t al dutiful seruice to make her amends, and also neuer to be a stifler in the like cause, with a submisse reuerence she tooke her leaue and departed. Pasylla seeing how fearefull the old Gentlewoman was, smiled at her selfe that she could so cunningly dissemble, thinking she had done verie well in not disclosing her mind to such a doating foole: For she knew that old womē though by many years they knew how to speak, yet no time nor age coulde learne them to be secreat, that they weare their hearts in their handes, and carrie their thoughts in their tongues end, that they couet to heare, & feare not to speak, participating their priuate counsailes to euery one that calles them gossyp. This consideration moued Pasylla rather to make a smal scarre by speaking title, then a deepe wound by blabbing to any [...] and musing thus in these thoughts, shee fell againe a sleep. But Clarysta trudging home with a flea in her eare, found Rodento at her house, whom after reuerent salutations done, she nipped on the Pate with this heauy newes, telling him that Pasylla was so straunge, as she would not so much as vouchsafe to read the contents of his letter: but after she knew from whēce it came redeliuered it with great choller, charging her in harde & bitter tearmes neuer hereafter to sollicite any such sute, least she m [...]e her father priuy to her alluring practises. And therfore shee earnestly intreated him either to cease of from his sute, or else to vse some other messenger, for she neuer durst attēpt here­after to breake the matter. Rodento hearing this heauy news & seing as he thought his letter returnd without an answere, sat a long while as one in a trance tormented w^t such pinching as­saults of fancy, as Clarysta might easily perceiue how the poore Gentleman was perplexed: at last thinking it best to couer a dis­contented mind with a contented countenāce, & with the bright colours of myrth to blot out the dark shadowes of sorrow, he be­gan faintly to smile, & looking vpon the letter threw it down on y^e ground, and treading on it with his f [...]ete, told Clarista that he hoped not to set that at his heart which Pasylla set at her heele: but as she requighted his affection w^t despight so he mēt to rase out fancy with disdaine, & not onely to cease of from such heede­lesse [Page] sutes, but from such haples loues, yet pro [...] to remain her friend for her forward willingnes. He took his leaue of Cla­rista and went home to his lodging, where he no sooner arryued but looking more narrowly on the letter, perceiued by the fol­ding that either it was not his, or els Pasylla had opened it, and read the contents: wherefore breaking vp the seales, he founde that Pasylla had either pēned down the happy censure of his per­petual felicitie, or else the dismall dome of his endlesse mishap, wauering thus betweene feare and hope, hee read her answere viewing and reuiewing ouer euery line, waying euery worde, & making a construction of euery syllable, till at last he found bit­ter gall tempered with Hony, and willing consents shadowed with wilfull denials, perceiuing that Pasylla could bee content to loue, if her father would condescende to like: that although the first lines were as triffe as steele, yet the conclusion was as pliable: as waxe, that her harde words to Clarista were to sha­dowe her owne secreats not to reiecte his lawfull sutes. These happy considerations of Pasyllas letter so salued the sorrowfull minde of Rodento, that where before he did sinke in dispayer, now he did swime in blisse, his restlesse disquiet was turned to contented peace, hoping that in time Pasylla would be trayned to fancie, and so repay him with mutuall affection, intending that this faint repulse should not driue him from assaulting the fort, least in fearing at the first shotte, he might be thought not worthy to vanquish: marry he meant not to deale any more with Clarista because he perceiued Pasylla doubted of hir secrecy, but to seeke some other meanes to obtaine his purpose, and in this contented hope, hee rested till time and oportunitie might further his pretence. But Fortune who knoweth no meane see­ing Rodento begin to clime vnto happines, thought to lift him vp to y^e skies, y^t she might w^t more violence pash him down lower then hel, & to bring this to passe she thus laid her platforme. I [...] fortuned that within few days Pasylla and her Cousin Pandina being walking togither in the Gardē, Valdracko thinking his daughter had bin in her closet, went vp to speake w^t her, but fin­ding y^e dore vnshut, which Pandina by forgetfulnes had left opē & none within, stepped into the closet, and began to rifle among [Page] the loose papers which were lying on the boorde, and at last by vnhappy lucke light on the letter which Rodento sent to [...]andina, which after hee had throughly perused, and percei­ued by the contents the summe of his suite, he searched further, and founde the coppy of his daughters answere [...] containing so milde a repulse, and so friendly denials that he was pained with strange and vncertaine thoughts, thinking if he should with ri­gor reproue his daughters folly, it were but to make her ouer feruent in affection, knowing that women flie frowardly from those things whereunto they are perswaded, and wilfully at­tempt those actions, from which with sensible reasons they are forewarned. To forbid Rodento to prosecute his sute, was to stoppe swift streames with a sworde, and to stay the blastes of the winds with a vale of silke, so that he was doubtfull what to do: yet in this resolute: rather then his enimy shoulde triumph in obtaining his purpose, to preuent his pretence with the vn­timely death of his owne daughter. Being in this quandarie he laide downe the letters and went to his bedchamber, where being sollitarie, surcharged with melancholie dumps, he fell to sundry strange deuises, at last after he had leand a while on his elbowe, hee determined to colour his secreat griefe with the balefull shadow of despight, and now to repay his old hate with a speedie and bloudie reuenge, hoping vnder the pretensed co­lour of frienship not only to procure his owne gaine & good for­tune, but also vtterly to subuert & extinguish the hole house and family of y^e Conte Coelio which wretched pretence he wrought in this wise. The citizens of Ferrara, I meane both the nobility & comminaltie were appointed to meete & assemble in the guild hall, there to debate of some waighty matters pertaining to the profite of the weale publike, whether at y^e day appointed amōgst the rest repaired the Earle as one in greatest authority next the Duke in all Ferrara, who after the citizens had agreed vppon such matters as were in question, redie to depart, was stayed by Valdracko, who after some vnaccustomed curtesie requested y^e Conte, that if his leisure could permit, he would stay a while, that they two might haue some priuate conference. Coelio halfe astonished at this straunge kindnesse of the Duke, told him that [Page] whatsoeuer his leisure was, he was ready to make attendaunce to know his graces pleasure, & with that both of them stepping aside. Valdracko tricking vp his currishe minde with coloured speeches, began to frame his trothlesse talk to this effect.

I need not rehearse, Conte Celio, the hateful dissention that hath continually bred between our auncestours most haplesse & bloody euents, & the sparks remaining in vs, a burning fire of re­uenge, so that by our dismall and daily iarres, both our houses haue been distempered, & the whole city of Ferrara greatly dis­turbed. As of late musing with my self, I duly cōsidered y^e cause of this endles strife, & waighed with my selfe what woful enor­mities ensued of such rechlesse choler, finding my predecessours wrongfully giuing the occasiō of this mischieuous quarrel, mo­ued with the sting of conscience, I thought good, as the debate sprang from my parent, so it shuld end in the child: and therfore if it please you to accept my proffer, I here am content to remit al former iniuries, & as we haue been hitherto disseuered by en­mity, so we may be vnited by amity, that not onely Ferrara, but all Italy shal haue cause both to muse and maruel at this our so­daine Metamorphosis, and that you shal not think I mean with painted shadowes to make a glose vppon the text, for the confir­ming of this my proffered and vnfayned friendeship, I will be­stow my daughter Pasilla vpon your sonne Rodento.

Valdracko had no sooner vttered these words, but Conte Ce­lio was driuen into a maze, greatly maruelling at these vnloo­ked for proffers & ioyeing, at this vnaccustomed friendship, yet fearing to find a pad in the straw, and a burning spark amongst cold ashes, knowing that the Cats halfe waking winks, are but traynes to intrap the mouse, that when the Eagle hideth his ta­lents most close, then he meanes to seaze vpon his pray, y^e Val­dracko was a wylie Foxe, and could shadow the darke colours of reuenge, with the glistering hue of reconciled amity [...] howe he was of a melancholike constitution, & therfore not to be trusted, that his demure countenance foreshewed most despightfull ran­cour, that Caesar feared more Brutus for his secret & solemn be­hauiour, thē al his forrain foes for their force & prowesse. These [Page] considerations feared Conte Celio from ventring too farre in­to an vnknown foord, yet waying with him selfe that the Duke neither would, nor could dissemble, sith he meant to confirme his promise with such a good pledge, hee thoughte best to accept of his proffer, and to vnite their two houses by so happy a matche. Hee therefore returned him this courteous and friendely aun­swere.

Maruel not (right mighty Duke) if I stand in a maze at this strange and vnlooked for motion, sith at our first meeting, I ra­ther expected opprobrious wordes of despitefull enmity, then a­ny such friendly speeches of desired amity. But sith it hath plea­sed your grace to passe ouer all former dissentions quarrelles, long time continued betweene our two houses, which hath bred such ciuill mutinies, and secret slaughters in Ferrara: I not on­ly accept of your happy and fortunate proffer, but yeeld cōdigne thankes for your Graces long desired curtesie, offering my son and my selfe to rest wholly and faithfullye yours in all duety to command.

With that, Valdracko embraced the Earle, swearing that he made such account of his friendship, as he wold obserue that day as the most fortunate in al his life. The Senat who al this while waited when either these 2. enimies shold part, or els fall into their accustomed choler, seing their friendly imbracemēts, were all amazed with sodain ioy, & driuen as it were into an ex­tasie at this strange Metamorphosis, yet greatly astonished: be­cause they were not priuy to their secrete conference, which the Duke perceiuing, to put them out of their musing dumps, told thē how that they two, which neither by the feare of authoritye, nor friendly perswasions, could be reconciled, had nowe casting all old grudges aside, renewed a perfect league of amity, and to confirme the same, they were agreed to vnite their houses, and to marry Pasilla with Rodento.

This happy newes greatlye ioyed the Senators mindes, and also the whole citie of Ferrara, that they sorrowed not so muche before their hatefull dissention, as they now reioyced at their louing agreement. Wel, Valdracko couering the bloo­dye [Page] minde of a gripe vnder the simple pennes of a Doue, carried the Counte Celio home with him to dinner, where the Duke intertained him with such sumptuous cheere, and solemne cur­tesie, as the poore Earle thought such heartye friendship coulde not be fained. But when Pasilla saw with what intertainment her father cheered vp the Counte, she marueiled at this strange courtesie, and blushed at her owne conceits, calling to mind her friend and louer Rodento: thinking that since their parentes of enemies, were become friends, that the children might of dis­sembled foes, grow to be professed louers. As thus she was quic­kening her wits with these amorous conceits, Valdracko and the Earle hauing takē their repast, the Duke calling his daughter vnto him, begā to make her partaker of his new determina­tion, how he meant if she could fancy, to matche her with young Rodento, a Gentleman of worthy parentage, and comely per­sonage, endued with wit and singular qualities to conte [...]t her minde: enriched with wealth, and large possessions to maintain her estate: both yong, beautiful, & rich: great gifts sufficiēt to cō ­tent, & litle godes able to command, euen Vesta her self to leaue her virginity: if then she coulde consent to loue & like so braue a gentleman, he would thinke her duetifull obedience did requi [...]e his fatherly prouidence: otherwise if she shoulde mislike of his choyce, and vpon wilful frowardnes oppose her selfe against his mind, he would not onely repay her fonde mislike with the lyke despight, but also disinherite her of all his possessions.

Pasilla, who was easie to intreate, tolde the Duke, that the commaunde of the father, was a constraynt to the childe, that Parentes willes were lawes, so they past not all lawes: & therefore she was content to frame her fancie, as it pleased his Grace to dispose: this duetifull and modest answere of Pasilla, pleased the Duke, in so muche that to strike the yron, while it was hotte, least any thing mighte fall out betweene the cup and the lippe, they sent for Rodento, who maruellyng [...] heare that hys Father was a gueste to suche an vnacquain­ted host, came wyth all speede, and beeyng admi [...]ted into the chamber of presence, found Valdracko, his father and Pasilla in [Page] secret talk. The Duke no sooner espied Rodento, but hee arose from the table, and imbracing him, gaue him most friendlye and curteous intertainment, telling him what match they had made if it pleased him, with a willing consent to knit vp the bargaine. Rodento halfe stifled with the ioy of this happye motion, most willingly accepted their proffers, & taking Pasilla in his armes, louingly sealed vp the match with a few sweet kisses, to their & their fathers happy content. Well, all thinges thus fortunately finished the mariage appointed to be celebrated the next spring, Celio went home to his lodging, leauing his sonne Rodento passing away the time in amorous conceits with his loue & La­dy Pasilla. But Fortune grudging at this happy successe, cros­sed their sweet and delicious fauours with bitter and despiteful frowns: For Valdracko noting the prosperous estate of Celio, began to thinke, that vnlesse he might traiterously bereaue him of his life, neither shuld his house flourish, nor his mind be satis­fied with reuenge. To breed therfore his own content, & the fi­nal confusion of the Earle, he determined to appoint some despe­rate ruffian to murther him: which done, he should not haue any man in Ferrara, y^• would withstand him, and he might vse Ro­dento as it pleased him: passing manye dayes in this bloudy in­tent, sometime halled from such trechery, with the sting of con­science, & then incēsed to such vilany, with the spur of cruel hate, he fel at last thus to debate with him selfe.

What doest thou mean, Valdracko, to trouble thy mind with suche balefull passions, or so much as in thought to intend such desperate attempts, the performance wherof is so vnnatural, as such bloudy actions, if there be any Gods, cannot escape without some deadly & direful reuēge? consider Valdracko, thou hast pro­mised Celio a fish, and wilt thou present him a scorpiō? hast thou newly sworn to be his friend, & wilt thou be his foe? Is the son betrothed to thy daughter, and wilt thou betray the father vnto death? what wil Ferrara thinke at this thy trecherie: nay will y^• Gods suffer thee to practise such mischief? No no, assure thy self Iupiter wanteth not plagues to punish such lothsome offences. Tush fond foole, if thou stumble at a straw thou shalt neuer leap [Page] ouer [...] blocke, if thou feare to practise, thou shalt neuer perform [...] it is lawful to dissemble with thine enimy, and to reuenge, is cō ­mendable. Why Valdracko, is Celio thine enimy? No, he hath yeelded him selfe with submisse, curtesie, to rest at thy cōmand. And hast thou not yet doating foole, learned, that it is better to trust an open enimy [...] then a reconciled friend, that iniuries maye not be forgotten as long as the scarres remaine, that foes muste neuer be admitted as friends in countenance. Why then shoul­dest thou stay thy intent for Celios dissembled friendship? No, dispatch him, and then shalt thou be sure, Fortune her selfe can­not daunt thee with mishap.

Valdracko remaining resolute in this his bloody purpose, chose out a desperate ruffian in the city to put this his determination in practise, promising him for his pains three thousand crowns, and to conuey himself out of the countrey. The varlet with whō necessity preuailed, more then either conscience or honesty, con­de [...]cended, without any denial to the Dukes request, swearing: that as soone as time and place would serue, hee woulde make a dispatch of the Earle, which indeed within few daies he brought to passe. For, as the Counte Celio was passing through a blind lane of the citie, he shot him through with a pistol, and with that fled: but the Citizens rising in an vproare, at the report of this haplesse murther, apprehended the ruffian, and brought him be­fore the Duke and the Senate, who with wayling (but fayned teares) sorrowing for his frindes mishap, exclaimed against such trecherous cruelty, and rising vp as one in a furie, commanded one of his men to cut out his tongue: at which sentence, the vilde wretch amazed, perceiued the Dukes pollicy, and therfore wold haue reuealed his villany, had he not bin preuented by the Offi­cers, who cutting out his tongue, cast it at the Dukes feete. And by that, the report of Celios death was come to the eares of Rodento, which so tormented him, as hee fell downe in a sound, so perplexed, as he almost lost his senses. Pasilla also hea­ring of this mishap, surcharging her selfe with sorrow, went yet to comfort her beloued Rodento. The Duke himselfe, and the Senate, yea all the nobility of Ferrara, sought to perswade the [Page] young Gentleman, but such was his tender loue towardes hys father, as no coūsaile, or comfort, could appease his sorrow. Val­dracko to couer his guile, caused fi [...]st the murtherer, in steed of three thousand crownes, to be put to death with most cruell tor­ments, and then tooke great care for the solemn funerals, proui­ding them with such sumptuous cost & charges, as all Ferrara spake of his friendship. Wel, the funeralles beeing ended, and Rodentos sorrow decreasing, by tract of time hee repayred a­gane to his beloued Pasilla, greatly appeasing his heauye passi­ons by her desired presence, and was more carefully intreated of the Duke then before: for within short time, Valdracko proui­ded for the marriage, which was solemnised with such magnifi­cence, as belonged to such great and worthy personages. The noble men to shew their dutifull good willes to the Duke, ap­pointed iusting and tourneyes for the honour of the Bride, and the Citizens shewes and triumphes, to signifie their louing obe­dience, passing many daies in sportes and pastimes: Valdracko requiting their affections with such sumptuous cheere and pro­digal expences, as all Italy had cause to praise his liberalitie. The marriage at last consummated and ended, Pasilla, and Ro­dento remaining in such happy estate, as Louers maye, whiche haue the fruition of their loues, thoughte their blisse so prop­ped vp with prosperitie, as sinister fortune coulde neuer breede their mishap, but it fell out otherwise. For Valdracko after that his daughter had bin married about fiue monethes, felt the sparks of reuenge to bee raked vp in y^• dead [...]indars of hate and malice, which stirred abroad, began againe to grow to a great flame, so that he thought his mind not sufficiently glutted with reuenge, vnlesse he might vtterly race out the name of the Celij, & so he himselfe inioy al their possessiōs, thinking if he might with out suspition dispatch Rodento, he shuld haue most happy suc­cesse in all his affaires, neither fearing God, nor regarding the loue of his daughter, so he might finish vp his balefull tragedye. Where, by the way, we may note the pestilent & despiteful dis­position of these Saturnists, who vnder the colour of a secret & solemn profession, hide a hatefull and reuenging dissimulation, [Page] proffering to Caesar with Cassius, [...] the other a bodkin: kissing loue in the streetes, and murthering him in corners: playing like the hearbe B [...]r [...]n, whiche beareth a faire flower, but in [...]ecteth with the smell. But leauing them to their doating fancies, againe to Valdracko, who still persi­sting in his purpose, the better to put it in practise, went to a graunge house of his, three myles distaunt from Ferrara, where after hee hadde remayned three or foure dayes, hee secretelye dispatched a letter to his cupbearer, willing him in anye [...] vppon his life and alleageance, to poyson his sonne in lawe Ro­dento: who after hee had receiued the letter, and re [...]d the con­tentes, seeing the alluring promises of the Duke, if he pertour­ [...]ed his commaund, and the cruell threatnings, if he de [...]ied his request, the nexte morning prouided an infectious powder, and gaue him a deadly & fatall draft, whereupon Rodento straight sickened, and within foure hours died: Pasilla tearing her haire, & scratching her face, seeking to kil her self, had not her Ladies & gētlewomē kept her frō such desperat actions. The cup hearer hauing performed this filthy fact, felt such a hel in his cōscience, y^• taking some of the powder, drank it vp, & so beg [...] ̄ to faint with the pains of death. Now whē he was speechles, he sēt for Pasilla, vnto whō he deliuered her fathers letter, & then turning his head yeelded vp the ghost. Pasilla reading y^e letter, & perceiuing her fa­thers villainous trechery, began to fal frō folly vnto fury, & with raging termes to curse such a peenish parēt: at which [...] Val­dracko came home, & hearing this heauy newes began to same kind of sorrow, & w^t weping teares to bewail y^e death of Rodēt. Pasilla grudging at these crocodiles teares, sōwhat appeased her sorow, w^t the hope of spedy reuēge, which she performed in short time. For hir father being gone to bed, & faln in a sound sleep, she came into his chāber, & pulling off hir garters, b [...]ūd him hād and foot, & thē waking him out of his dreams, as one incēsed w^t some hellish fury, staring on his face, shee breathed out these gastfull speches. Thogh the gods (vile & accursed Valdracko) are so pa­ciēt, y^t they spare to reuenge thy bloody massacres w^t speedy mi­series, yet y^e destinies, not to be cōtrolled, haue appointed me as [Page] a cruel [...] minister of thy fatall mishap. I knowe, & I sigh and sorrow, that I ha [...] cause to know that nature requy­reth obedience [...], and yet willeth loue in the Parents, that wher [...] [...] wanteth, there the gods are not slow to reuēge. But I [...] to be obedien [...] to such a tyrant, who digresseth from nature, and des [...] thee for my father, which hast so displeased the Gods. For g [...]ng therefore lawfully, al dutiful affection, I ex­claim against thee, [...] traytor, who by trechery hast slain the good Counte Celio, and by poison hast murthered my sweet husband Rodento, couering vnder a faire face, a false mind, and vnder the colour of aged vertue, the substaunce of hatefull villa­ny: Could no feare of god nor dread of man driue thee from such [...] dealing? could no [...]ing of conscience vtterre thee frō su [...]he deedes & no loue to thy chylde prohybite thee from suche hellishe practises? But why do [...]st thou prattle Pasilla, thou seest they could not. Graunt not to the trecherous wre [...]th then, so much [...]auour, as to let him inioye one moment of life, but re­uenge his wickednesse, and [...] thine owne woe. And with that, Valdracko was about to speake, but Pasilla incensed with a fu­rious [...] vp the sword, and wounded him sore, and af­ter many bloody [...]low [...]s, he yeelded vp the ghost. When she had thus cr [...]c [...]y murthered her father, yet iustlye requited the iniu­ [...]y she to [...]k pen and incke, and wrote the effect of this tragicall discourse that al might know the cause of this bloody fact, whi­che fini [...]hed, [...]e fell groueling on the sword, and so ended, both her life and her miseries.

Saturne.

Venus, you play like them which seeking to shoote against the starres, are wounded with their owne Arrowes in the fall: or like the enuious Porcuntine, who coueting to strike others with her pennes leaueth her selfe void of any defence: you haue here tolde a tale of Valdracko, which sheweth not my crabbed influence, but your owne crooked constellation, for it was the wilfull forwardnesse of Pasylla in her do [...]ing fancies, and her lasciuious loue in liking her fathers enimy, that procured those haplesse euents: yea, it was the vnbridled affection of staylesse youth, not the careful wisedome of setled age that wrought this Tragicall discourse.

Venus.

Saturne, if old men could blush no doubt all the gods should perceiue thou wert more ashamed in defending so false a cause then in hearing me rehearse the case, but I will not say you doate because you are old, but dissemble because you are wise, so shall I both excuse your fondnesse, and commend your wit: but this I hope I may say without preiudice that your arguments sauour as much [...]f reason as Luna doth of constancie.

Luna.

You might haue said, Venus, as you do of honestie, and so all the gods would haue thought his arguments of small force, but were his reasons as full of substance as you of light qualities, it were against Aristotle to deny either premises or conclusion.

Venus.

You learned this Logicke Luna, of End [...]mion, but let that passe, and seeing Sol is appointed Moderator in this our con­trouersie, I thinke he cannot but say that the haplesse and tra­gicall euents of this history came by the predominant influence of Saturne: for was it not the Melancholy disposition of Val­dracko that nourished so long the glowing sparkes of reuenge toward the Conte Coelio? and his Saturnine constitution, that with a coulored shewe of amitie, repayed most faithfull friendshippe with cruell enmitie? did hee not carry in the one hande breade, and in the other a stone: and preferre his priuate iniuries before publike credite or honesty? yea: did not such me­lancholicke impressions pester his minde as hee was the cause of the most tragicall and bloodie Massacres?

Mercurie.

Truth Venus, such is the crabbed disposition of Saturne, as they which are borne vnder his influence, delight in tragicall treacheries, performed with most subtill and secreat attempts, so that Caesar feared more the two Saturnists, Brutus & Cas­sius, then all his forraine foes of any other constitution.

Iupiter.

Mercurie, you speake without commission, I am glad you are so greatly beholding vnto Venus, indeede she cannot want counsellours, nor champions, she allowes them such large fees. But I pray you wherein is my Father Saturne so greatly to be blamed: was not Valdracko forced by the disordinate af­fection of his daughter Pandina to his enemies sonne Roden­to, rather to preuent mishappe by some synister meanes, then to bring his hole house and famelie, to most miserable decay and ruine.

Mars.

Iupiter, if large fees may make bolde champions, or braw­ling counsellers, you haue greatest cause both to fight & chide in Venus behalfe, she hath giuen you many a fat present, as Eu­ropa da [...]as Alcmena, I haue named ynough I think, to stoppe your mouth.

Luna.

Mars, what Iupiter hath gotten, I knowe not, but what Vulcan got with his net, we al know, not a fish, but a God. But it is wel you defend not her honestie but her arguments.

Sol.

Cease from these biting quips, they are fit for brabling So­phisters, not for the gods, and heare my verdict, I am of this minde that the hapelesse euentes of this tragical discourse came by Saturnes synister influence, that Coelios death proceeded of a malicious and secreat hate, that Rodentos balefull mishap spronge from a Saturnine reuenge, predominant in the confi­guration of Valdrachos natiuitie, imprinting in his aged minde a melancholie despight, which brought to passe this wo­full and vnnaturall tragedie. This is my censure: but nowe sith Venus hath ended her tale, Luna, I charge you to report her Astronomical description, because Saturne will speake more of ran [...]or then of reason.

Saturne.

Sol, we haue agreed that your sensure shal stand for a sentence, and therfore I wil not inueigh against your verdict, but am con­tent to beare the blame of Valdrachos ill nature, yet that you & the rest of the gods may know that there commeth more harme by disordinate & lawlesse Venus, then by me, I will rehearse an historie, wherein you shall easily perceiue that loue sotteth the senses, infec [...]e [...]h youth, destroyeth age, and is the very plague both to the minde and body.

Lunas Astronomicall description of Venus.

THe starre of Venus (right mightie gods) is so simplie cal­led, as Tullie auoucheth, quod ad res omnes veniat, and the auncient Arabians call it, astrum genitale or prolifioum, for the temperate moisture, and fauorable influence that it distilleth vppon all humaine bodies: for the nature of Venus is to infuse into all inferiour substances, while they are ingende­red or nourished a certaine Humidatum sucoum, or delicate [Page] moisture, yet notwithstanding so thinne and subtile that it shall [...] and f [...]llow more the na­ture of [...] then of showers, which natural [...] and proper quali­tie in my iu [...]gement caused the a [...]ncient Poets [...] attribute this Epitheton vnto Venus: A [...]a: ab alendo. Now as concer­ning her other qualitie of [...] note that [...]we h [...]e in naturall he [...]e placed [...] that doth cherish and nourish as is Sol, and his irra [...]i at starre Iupiter: so we haue set down [...] another which doth burne and scortch intempera [...]ely, as doeth Mars with his adult and y [...]llow chollar: so likewise in the na­ture of co [...]nesse we doe appoint Venus to be [...]om [...]o [...]ate and fa­uorable, and Saturne with his melancholy humor to be infortu­nate and maligna [...]: of the which opinion are Prolomeus, Ga­len, and the Chaldes, saying: that amongst the Planets, there are two fauourable, wel affected, and friends to nature, namely Iupiter and Venus, and two Saturne & Mars [...]holsome, bitter lucklesse, and yll affected. To confyrme the which. I will re­hearse Ptolomeus owne sentence [...] the end of his first Apotel­losma [...]. There are foure humours (saith he) or first natures: whereof two are fruitefull [...] Fortunate, and luckie, tha [...] is to say, heate & moisture, by which all things [...]o increase & prosper: The other two dismall maligne and dangerous (namelie) colde & drinesse by which all thinges are weakened and ruinate. The auncient Astrologers constitute Venus and Iupiter, temperate in nature for their heat and moisture, Saturne & Mars intempe­rate: for the nipping cold of the one, & the burning, inflamed, and adust heate of the other. And thus farre Ptolomeus himselfe, by whose verdite we are induced to thinke and affirme that the influence of Venus of moist without any excesse with a smal and temperate warmnesse: which the Poets perhaps respected whē they fained Venus to come of the foame of the sea, calling her Aphrodite: but Euripides thinks she is so called (quod Aphrones si [...]t) and of an imperfect mind, that suffer themselues to be ouer­come by Venus allurements. Of y^e faculties she doth challenge vnto her y^• appetitiue & of humors, Phlegme: but yet doul [...]e, vn­sauory & natural: yea such as Asclepiades affirmeth y^• may ea­sily [Page] be changed into bloud, and for the natiue heat may be easily decocted, and thus much for her essential description. Nowe as concerning the peculiar affections of those men, in whom she is predomynant.

They be pleasantly disposed, and indued Attic [...] qu [...]dam le­pore: knowing rather the manners of their friends, then hating them: delighting in flowers, and precious oyntments: carrying about them the purse of Cupid tyed with the blade of a Leeke: scratching their head with one finger, and, to vse the Latin pro­uerbe (molle peruncti Lesbiantur, & Corinthiantur: eating Let­tice, and stalking on their typtoes: Lidio more viuentes: careful to encrease beautie, and somewhat tickled with selfeloue: car­rying Honny in their mouthes, and like Spanyels flattering with their [...]ayles: in their right eares bearing oyle, hauing twinckling eyes, and soft delicate haire: apt to get children and giuen to propagation: applying these minds to songs & sonets, addicted to pittie, mercie, and fauour: Et in v [...]ramuis aurem, & vtrunque oculum Dormientes. The peculiar diseases to this starre are Cathars, Coryse Branchy, Lethargies, Palsies, Apo­plexies, Gonorrhea pass [...]o, obstructions of the raines, bladder, & belly, with paines in the secreat parts: quotidian feuers, paines in the heade [...] Lieuteria diarrhea diabete, dropsies, & other more, proceeding of crudities, excesse and abundance of Phlegme. windinesse, imbecillitie of heate, perfrigerations, & such others. As touching their pulses they be smal, slow, & soft, their sweat, vnsauorie: vrine, pale and thinne: their deiections white, moist, and [...] of Crudity: dreaming for the most part of waters, Ba­thes, Fishings, Snakes and such like.

Saturnes Tragedie.

THe City of Memphis is highly commended for the nourse of good letters, because in that place learning was rewar­ded with her due deserts, & ignorance, as neere as might be, so vtterly exiled, as euerie Mecanicall man was able to yealde [Page] a reason of the principles of his science. In this Citie, famous in those dayes for learning and vertue, dwelled an infamous strumpet called Rhodope, descended of good parentage, and of comely personage, honorable for her birth, and renowmed for her beautie: but her outward hue was so spotted with inwarde vice, as her praise was not such for the perfection of the body, as the discredit was for y^e lasciuious disposition of her mind, which was so stained with wanton affections, that I thinke Venus her selfe coulde not haue past her in vanities. This Rhodope racking her honestie to maintaine her pompe and pride, forget­ting shame and conscience (two vertues long since exiled from Venus Court) set her bodie to sale, and in the prime of her yeares became a professed courtesan: so that for the appointed price, euery stragling straunger might pray vppon such loth­some Carrion. This shamelesse strumpet tooke small delight to be seene in the Citie: but when shee went abroade to take a view of the streetes, shee past in such sumptuous [...]ort that the Citizens a long time after had matter ynough to talke of her magnificence. It so fell out on a day, that shee determined to go sport her selfe at a fountaine (which is dedicated vnto Ve­nus) a miles distance from Memphis, whether shee went ac­companied with such young youthes, as were snared in her al­luring bewty: being come to the place which for the scituation seemed to bee an earthly paradise, after they had refreshed thēselues with stoare of dainty delicates, which were prouided by Rhodope, they past away a great part of the day with amo­rous conceiptes and pleasant parles: till at last the weather waring somewhat warme, Rhodope desirous to bath her feet in the coole fountaine, caused one of her maides to pull of her shooes, which were imbrodered with gould, and richly be sette with stones, which she diligently doing as she laid them on the greene grasse, verie necessarie to helpe her mistresse [...]off with her hoase, an Eagle soaring a loft, and seeing the glistering of the goulde, soused sodainely downe and carried away her right shooe in her gripe, which sodaine sight greatly amazed Rhodope marueiling what this straunge and prodigious [Page] chaunce shoulde portende: beginning straight coniecturally to construe this happe to the worst, but her companions were of an other opinion, for some of them saide it was a signe of good lucke, other that it was a token of honour and dignitie: All (her selfe excepted) saide the best, because women are most pleased with praises and promises, and shee rested to thinke the best, whatsoeuer in outward countenance she did pretende. Well, after they had diuersely descanted vppon this euent, shee with her company returned to the Citie of Memphis, but the Eagle with the shooe tooke her flight to the Court of Psamne­tichus, who at that verie moment was walking alone in his priuie Garden: assoone as shee came ouer the kings heade, not by chance, but by some infortunate and dismall destinie, she let the shooe fall, and with a marueilous crie soared againe into the ayre: which soodaine and prodigious sight so amazed the olde king, and so astonished his senses, as they which gazed at the gastlie heade of Gorgon. At last come to himselfe, he tooke vp the shooe, marueiling whether it did belong to some heauenly Nymph, or some mortall creature. The shape pleased his fancy. the glistring beautie thereof delighted his eyes: (to be short) Cupid the accursed sonne of Venus, seeing him at disco­uert, drewe a boult to the heade and strooke Psamnetichus at the verie heart, which perced him so deepe, that hee be­ganne not onely to like the shooe, but to loue the owner of such a pretious Iewel: feeling a tickling affection to enter in­to his minde, whereuppon he began to smile at his owne follie that he should be so fond now in his age to doate, more then he did in his youth.

Where by the way wee may note the despightfull mallice of Venus, who perceiuing that her infortunate and ill affected influence, is hindered by a vertuous disposition, and that al­though her accursed configuration be of great force to infuse a certaine pronesse to vnlawfull venery, yet being preuented by a prouident and well disposed mind, it doth little auaile, quia sa­piens dominabitur astris. Then incensed with an enuious rage, she seeketh to intrap vertue with the stumbling blocks of vice, [Page] and to inchant the minds of the wise with her poysoned and al­luring sorceries: letting passe, neither time nor toil [...] till shee hath brought wisdome to such a bay: as either shee must yeelde to her masking follie, or buy her quiet with perpetual torment: but leauing Venus to her vanities, againe to Psamnetichus: Who seeking to shake of this new found affection, flong out of the garden into the chamber of presence where hee founde his sonne Philarkes and other noble men dauncing with the La­dies and Gentlewomen, vnto whom both he shewed the shoe and reaueled the chaunce, promising that what Ladie coulde pull it on, shoulde haue what Lawfull demaunde shee woulde make. All desirous of gaine and glorie (beleeue mee, two Idols that women most honour) assailed to winne the price, but it was as easie for them as for Vulcan to drawe on Thetis slipper on his poult foote: whereat Philarkes and the noble men smiled, but Psamnetichus pinched with an vnac­quainted passion, began to imagine what heauenly creature she was, to whom this shooe did belong: feeding himselfe in this musing humor vntill such a burning desire crept into his minde that neither reason, nor counsaile could asswage, so that with­drawing himselfe into his secreat chamber holding the shooe in his hand, he cast himselfe on his bedde, where he murmured out these or such like complaints.

Ah thrise vnhappie Psamnetichus, what vnfitte fancies bee these for thy aged yeares? what fonde thoughtes for thy gray heares? what vnmeete musings for thy stayed minde? wilt thou feeke to rake for quicke coales among dead cynders? to search for freshe flowers among withered weedes? to sow youthfull desires in aged mindes? if thou doe this Psamnetichus, thinke, though thou hast but a short time to liue, yet thou shalt haue a long time to repent. For loue in age is like fyre among drie sticks which kindled with y^e least puffe, is quenched in the least moment. Loue Psamnetichus? whie art thou in loue, yea: with whome? Alas I knowe not [...] and therefore the more infortunate is my loue. Pigmalion fell in loue with his Marble picture an affection so straunge, as he was both blamed and pittied for [Page] doating on such a senslesse Image. A Senators sonne in Rome loued extreemly the Iuory picture of Vesta, whiche wroughte him such discredit as he was exempted for bearing office in the citie. Were my case such, I wold think my selfe fortunate. But a shoe of golde is the only thing that bewitcheth my mind, such a straunge fancie, as time hath neuer made report of the like. Tush Psamnetichus, it is not the shoe, but the Dame that ow­eth the shoe, which hath inchanted thy affection: it is the Idea of her person, which by a secret imagination, is imprinted in thy minde, that hath pearced thy heart: seeke then by some meanes to free thy selfe from those fetters, whiche vnlesse thou vnloose, thou canst not but loose. Dye then Psamnetichus, for nothing can free thee from loue but death. It is no earthly creature, but some heauenlie goddesse, that oweth this Iewell, the excellent shape of her, to whom this precious gemme doeth belong, was neuer placed on earth, but enthronysed amongest the heauens, the woorse is thy happe, and the lesse cause hast thou to hope: to hope? why not? Psamnetichus no doubt, shee is a woman, and therefore to bee wonne with prayses, or promises, for that shee is a woman.

As thus he continued his complaints, his sonne Philarkes came into the chamber, wherevpon Psamnetichus ceased, and for that time made no shew of sorrow, but passed away the daye with other talke. The night beeing come, faining himselfe not well at ease, hee giuing his sonne and the other noble men the good night, went to his bedde, thinking by sleep to haue driuen away such fonde affections, but he was no sooner layd, but wa­king slumber, and halfe dreaming thoughts, so tormented him, that he coulde take no rest: wherevpon he began to cast a thou­sand doubtful coniectures in his minde, what he had best to do: at last he found out this deuise.

He called to remembrance that there was in his court a cer­tayne skilfull magician called Nestor, who by his secret science might not only be a meanes to discouer what Ladye was the owner of the shoe, but also if through frowardnesse (a disease cō ­mon to Venus darlings) she refused his proffer, might by some [Page] amorous potions, ayde him to obtaine his purpose. This polli­ticke conceite pleased him passing well, so that on the morrowe (fearing that delay might breede daunger) hee sent for this olde doating Nestos, who comming to the kings presence, and with great reuerence, doing his obeisance, craued to know his Maie­sties pleasure: Psamnetichus curteously resaluting him, tooke him by the hand, and led him into his priuy garden, where char­ging him firste vppon his life and alleageaunce moste secretely to conceale whatsoeuer he shoulde in that place make manifest: then hee broke with him in the matter, promysing if hee coulde tell him by his arte who owed the shoe, hee woulde rewarde him so largely, as he should haue cause to speake of his bountie: otherwise if by negligence he should be found slacke, he would so bitterly reuenge hys frowarde disobedience, as hee shoulde haue cause both to curse hym selfe and his science. Nestos al­lured with the large promises of the King, and feared wyth his sharpe and cruell threateninges, made aunsweare, that what were able to bee doone by Arte, shoulde wyth all skil­full diligence bee perfourmed: and hereuppon hee craued three dayes to make a shewe of his cunning. Psamnetichus (suche was the heate of his newe kindeled fancie) thought it a longe time to yeelde so small a verdict, yet hee was content, hoping by this meanes hee shoulde bee fully satisfied. Calchos leauing the King in his dumpes, hyed him home to his lodging, and en­tring into his study, began to fal to erecting of figures, to take the eleuation of the pole, and the houre wherein the shoe was found, but these superstitious ceremonies would not shew what hee sought for: so that in fine, from consecrating, hee was faine to fall to flatte coniuring, wherein after hee had swette lyke a dogge to adiure the Dyuell, hee perceiued by the Oracle, that hee had made an ende of his woorke, whiche hee had no sooner doone, but with all speede that mighte bee, hee posted to the Courte, where beeyng admitted to Psamnetichus presence, all the nobles commanded to auoyde the chamber, hee vttered these wordes.

I am sory (right mightye Prince) that I cannot iustly con­ceale, [Page] that your Grace hath straightly cōmanded me to reueale, my alleageance for bidding the one, & your highnesse so stricklye vrging the other. I haue done what learning & science cā allow, yet vnwilling to shewe what y^• froward destinies do allot. But I hope wisdom shal preuent that, which fancy seeketh to pretēd. The Lady which oweth this shoe, is one whose perfectiō of bo­dy is greatly darkened with the imperfection of the mynde, and whose singular beauty is such, yet so stained with the spot of las­ [...]iuious vanity, as all may iudge shee was framed by nature to despight vertue. It is Rhodope, that infamous strumpet of Memphis. Nestos had scarse vttered these words, but Psam­netichus (as one inraged with a franticke passion) beganne in most cruel termes to exclaime against Loue and Fortune, bray­ing out such bitter curses against Venus, & her inequall lawes, that poore Nestos seeing his vnbrideled furie, was more afraid to perswade him, then to coniure a diuell: trembling a while for feare, that the king should wrecke his wrathon his old carkase. At last when Psamnetichus had somwhat appeased his furious passions, he rewarded Calchos and licensed him to depart, with drawing himselfe into a secret place, where hee powred foorth these complaints.

Ah vniust Venus, and most accursed Cupid, whose hatefull delight, is to drowne men in vnequall thoughtes, and to make them doate in vnfitte fancies, seeking moste to assayle those myndes whiche thinke themselues moste safe vnder the shielde of vertue: coueting with bitter pleasures to procure sweet tor­mentes, and with seruyle affections to intangle free myndes. Alas I see, and I sigh, and sorrowe to see, that there is no dig­nitye, honour, age, nor yeeres, whiche canne resist the alluring charmes of Loue. Loue Psamnetichus? why doest thou loue? It is a worde vnmeet for thy mouth, but a passion farre more vnfit for thy minde. Thy graye hayres are fruites for death, not blossomes for Venus. Thy yeeres are too bee spente in repentyng thy former follyes, not in renewing freshe and a­morous fancies. It is more [...]itte for thy age to caste howe to dye, then to care howe to loue. Peace Psamnetichus, doe not [Page] so much as once name loue: why not? Trees may haue rootes, though no leaues, and though flowers fal, hearbes maye haue sap. Loue in age is a vertue, so it be not blemished with inequall choyse. Trueth, fonde foole, but what choice haste thou made? Of some famous Princesse? oh no, it were too well: of some beg­ger? were she vertuous, why not? Oh Psamneticus, woulde to God it were so wel. No, no, thou hast chosen Rhodope, a strum­pet, not halfe so famous for her beauty, as infamous for her va­nity, one whose honesty, nay dishonesty, is to be bought by euery stragling stranger. Loue is vnfit for thy yeeres, because thou art old, but such loue is vnmeet for thee wert thou neuer so young. What wil the peeres of Egypt say, if they heare but of thy do­ting thoughts? wil not thy poore subiects sorrow to be ruled by suche a Queene? But alas, what will Philarkes doe? Sure­ly either seeke to cut her daies shorte with vntimely death, or to ende his owne life with continuall griefe. Ah Psamneticus, it were more honourable for thee to die by concealing loue, then liue and inioy such haplesse loue.

And with that he fetcht such a deep sigh, as it might wel wit­nesse, how he sought with hatefull disdaine to quench such fonde desires, striuing with reason to bridle appetite, and with wise­dome to suppresse affection, flying from that by his owne will, wherevnto he was led by an infortunate influence, but he found that to wrestle with loue, was with the crab to swimme against the stream, and with the Deere to feed against the wind: wher­upō feeling such a deep impression to enter into his heart, as nei­ther counsel, nor reason could race out, he yeelded an vnwilling consent to loue, thogh the only thing he sought to hate. Pinched a long time with these contrary passions, his care and sorrow so increased sorrowing, that he had made so ill a choyce, yet careful how he might obtaine his choyce, that his aged and feeble com­plexion, weakened with a more heauie burden, then he was a­ble to beare, had almost yeelded vnto death. His sonne Philar­kes marueling at his fathers vnaccustomed dumpes, seing that he had made a change of his wonted pastime, and pleasures for solitary thoughts and contemplations, cast diuers coniectures [Page] [...] his head [...] what might be the cause of his fathers sodain sorow, [...], it could not be for want of honour, in that he was a king [...] if gold might make one merry, as no doubt it is the onely whe [...]sto [...]e to mirth, his father wanted no treasure. Egypt was not pestered with ciuil tumults, nor troubled with forrain inua­sions. Al which things duly cōsidered, hee coulde not coniecture what shuld be the occasion of his fathers sorrow: so y^e desirous to know, what should be the cause of his care, and willing (if it lay in his power) to redresse it: finding his father within few dayes alone in y^e garden, at his accustomed dumps, he brake wyth him to know the cause of his dolor, crauing reuerently of his father, if it were his pleasure, that he would make him partaker of his griefes, seeing that there is no better remedye for a troubled minde, then to participate his care to some secrete friend, promi­sing (as it was his duty by the law of nature to protest) that if his life might bee a meanes to appease his heauye passions, hee would most willingly free him from those perplexed sorrowes.

Psamnetichus hearing the dutifull obedience of his sonne, & noting with what vnfained protestatiōs he vttered these words, partly for the ioy hee conceiued of his sonnes good nature, and partly for the remembrance of his owne doating affections, hee burst forth into teares, yet seeking to conceale, that shame for­bad him to reueale, finding this excuse most fit for the time, and his straunge passions.

Philarkes, thou knowest euery thing is measured by his due time. The spring hath fresh flowers, and pleasant gleames. Au­tumne withered leaues and bitter stormes. Youth is paynted gazing at the starres, Age looking downe to the ground. Plea­saunt conceytes are the blossomes of young yeeres, and melan­choly thoughts, the fruites of gray haires. I tell thee Philarkes when I was young, I delighted in mirth and labour: and nowe being old, I ioy in ease and sadnes. Thou marueilest how I can be so subiect to dumpish thoughts, and I wonder how thou cāst be so free frō care and griefs. It is not want of prosperity, but the experience of many yeeres, y^• hath taught me in age to think how to die. The ioy of my youth, and the comfort I should haue [Page] ha [...] being old, is gone: I meane thy mother Farina, the remem­brance of whose death, makes me as sorowful as thy life and [...] ­bedience makes me ioyfull. Cease then, good Philarkes, to en­quire the cause of my care, and seeke not to redresse that whiche nature denieth to haue any remedy.

Philarkes was satisfied with his fathers answere, but Psam­netichus more troubled with his sons demand, so that he could take no rest, but lingred in doubtfull thoughts, til at last reason yeelding to appetite, and wisedome to affection, he determined to enioye a full content, though he both ouerthrew him selfe and his kingdome. Beeing resolute in this determination, for the better bringing to passe of his purpose, hee appoynted that his Court shoulde bee kepte at the Citye of Memphis, and heere­vpon commanded, that with as muche speede as might bee, the Court shoulde remoue. The Courtiers willing, because the Winter drew on, to soiourne in the citie, vsed great diligence in dispatching their affaires: and the Citizens hearing that the King should come, willing to shew themselues dutiful subiects to so louing a Souerain, indeuoured to receiue him in the most sumptuous and solemne manner they coulde, prouiding shewes iustes, tourneyes and triumphes: sparing no expences, to shew their dutifull affections. Psamnetichus perceiuing by outward actions, the inwarde good will of his Citizens, requited theyr kindnesse with such friendly curtesie, & princely magnificence, that with one generall assent, they all praysed his bountie and vertue.

Psamnetichus setled thus in Memphis, began now only to care how he might enioy the sight of Rhodope, hoping y^t when he had glutted his eyes with her beauty, he should free him selfe from the snare of disordinat fancy. To send for her to the Court, was the ready meanes to reueale his folly to the whole worlde, and to repaire vnto the house of a Curtesan, was to dishonor his princely dignity, with a seruile discredite: but to remayne stil in the hellish passions, was in life to suffer farre worse paynes then death. At laste, seeing his troubled minde coulde finde out no shiftie deuise, hee thoughte it beste to make some of his trustye [Page] seruauntes priuy to his affections, who perhappes by some sub­till pollicie might procure him to obtaine his purpose: and hee thought none so fitte for the participating of suche a waightye matter, then his Chamberlayne Zorastes: vnto whom on a daye when hee founde fitte time and opportunitie, hee reuea­led the whole matter, laying before him two baytes, prefer­ment, and death, promising that if in secrete wise hee could help him to the sight of Rhodope, hee woulde bountifully rewarde him with liuinges and dignities: otherwyse if eyther he shoulde halte, or bee founde slacke in the perfourmaunce of hys com­maunde, all tortures and tormentes shoulde bee too easie for the reuēge of his disloyalty. Zorastes hearing with sorrow this haplesse pretence of the King, knowing that hee was so reso­lute in his purposes, as no reason or counsell coulde diuerte from his determinations, thought perswasions woulde little preuaile: and therefore told him, that if his Maiesty would fol­lowe his deuise, he would that night bring him to the sighte of Rhodope, in such secret sorte, that no man but they two, should so much as once suspect the matter. For the fulfilling of this his promise, hee aduised the king to faine him selfe sicke, and to giue a speciall charge, that none, no not his sonne Philarkes, shoulde trouble hym, vnlesse they were sent for by Zorastes. This done, hee willed Psamnetichus to disguise hym selfe in the attire of one of his Gentlemen, and then they two passing out at a posterne gate, which opened into a darke lane, might wythout daunger or suspition, goe vnto the house of Rho­dope.

This prety pollicy greatly pleased the king, so that without any further consultation, hee put Zorastes deuise in practise: for assoone as the night came, he changed both his apparrel & coun­tenaunce so cunningly, as hee might bee taken rather for some stale Courtier, then for so mightye a Potentate. Hauing made thus an vnfitte Metamorphosis of him selfe accompanyed with Zorastes, hee passed thorough the Posterne, and wente straight to the house of Rhodope. Where wee maye note, the intemperate and malicious influence of Venus, who by her [Page] irradia [...] constellation, do worke such straun [...]ge affectes in man [...] mindes, [...] after they haue yeelded a little to her allurementes, neither wisedome, age, reason, counsaile, dignities, nor honour, can race out her dismall and malign impression: yea, her infused working is of such force, that who so is pricked forward by her entising perswasions, seeth no daunger, or discredite so haplesse, which he will not aduenture to obtaine his purpose. But nowe to Rhodope, who beeing certified by one of her maides, that a Gentleman of Psamnetichus Courte was at the doore, atty­ring her selfe with most costly iewels, and perfuming her house with most sweet odours, she sent for him vppe hastely, aud at his comming, intertayned him with such amorous glaunces, & las­ciuious curtesies, that he began both to maruel, and smile at the artificial sleightes of suche an infamous strumpet: seeyng with what cunnyng dissimulation, shee beganne to shewe a fayned kinde of affection, and how gayne had taught her to allure the myndes of euery straunger, he began to conceiue a loathing ha­tred of her lewd life, that desire was ready to turne to disdaine, had not wanton and lasciuious Venus with the intising charm of beautye, inchaunted hys doating affections. For when he had gazed a while on her excellent perfection, see­ing there was nothing in her, her minde excepted, but that was singular, hee exclaymed agaynst the Gods, that to despyghte nature, had placed suche hel [...]ishe conditions in such a heauenly creature. But such was the force of vnbrideled fancie, that hee coulde not conceiue suche disdayne at her vanitie, as hee dyd desire to her beauty. For his senses were so besotted with this alluring Syren, that he lost at last not onelye his libertye, but his life, by her pernitious trecheries. Well, Psamnetichus passing awaye the Euening with Rhodope, in suche haplesse pleasures, as he then thought most happy, hauing somewhat sa­tisfied himselfe with her desired presence, at last tooke his leaue, and giuing her the farewell, with an vnwilling Conge, depar­ted speedily, and secretely to the pallace, whither beeyng [...]ome, no sooner he was entred into his chamber, but casting him self vpon his bedde, the beautye and perfection of Rhodope, gaue [Page] him such fierce assaultes as he could take no rest, but at last hee burst [...]orth into these complaintes.

Psamnetichus, woulde to God either thou had [...] beene borne to lesse dignities, or more wisedome, so should thy hap haue been better, or thy discredite lesse: but where will is a subiect to fol­ly, wishes are counted but too fonde. Thou art a King Psamne­tichus, and aged: thy honour might perswade thee to more ver­tue, and thy yeeres disswade thee from such vanity. Wilt thou yeeld to loue her, whose staylesse affection, neither likes any, nor loues her selfe: if thou wilt haue a Concubine, choose such a one, as may onely be at thy will, not at euery base vassals com­maund. In deede Rhodope hath done a misse: what then? may shee not make amends? yes no doubt, though she hath flattered them which are subiectes, she will, nay shee dare doe no other­wise but fancie thee which art her soueraine. Rest then content Psamnetichus, Rhodope may be woone, and what canst thou wish more? Alas yes, for vnlesse she be my wife, neither can I like, nor she loue. Thy wife? will thy counsaile and commons agree to such inconuenience? will thy sonne consent so such [...] vnequall match? will they fonde foole? nay they shall: in de­spight of them my will shall stand for a law, and I will followe content, not counsaile. Rhodope is worthy to be a Queene, and I say, that none in Egypt dare gainsay: sh [...] shal be a Queene.

And with that, feeding him self in his humour he fel asleepe, passing away the latter part of the night with many pleasant dreames. On the morning assoone as he goe vp, he assembled the Dukes and nobles of Egypt, and commaunded them vpon their allegance, they should not depart from the [...] till they heard further of his pleasure. The same day hee caused writtes to be directed into euery part of his kingdome, to s [...]mmon the Lords and Barrons to a Parliament, which shoulde be holden within xv. dayes. This straunge and sodaine newes made the Lords of the counsaile to maruell what weightie affaires the king had to enact by statute, which hee would not make them priuie vnto: so many men, so many wits [...] euery one yeelded his verdicte but all mist the Cushion: especiall [...]e Philar [...] be­gan [Page] to [...] that his Father had not tolde him the cause of this sodaine conuocation: but seeing it was the kings pleasure, to conceale the secrete to him selfe, they rested contente till it might be made manifest in the open assemblie.

The day of the Parleament being come, the nobilitie aray [...] in their roa [...]es, attended vppon the Kinge to the Parleament house, where euery one set in his degree, as the common speaker was ready to haue made his Oration, the Kinge willed him to silence, commaunding that Rhodope shoulde bee sent for, and that then he would declare the cause of their assemblie. This draue them al into dumpes, euerie one whispering to other their virdict of the Kinges wil. Some thought there was some great complaints made to the king against her for her lasciuious life. Other thought she had pretēded some treason against his per­son [...] al by imagination suspecting the worst, yet not halfe so ill as the sequell proued. The message was no sooner deliuered to Rhodope but a quaking feare possessed al her ioyntes, doub­tinge shee had committed some haynous facte whiche deserued death: or y^• because she was a common curtisan, the King meant to confiscate her goods to the Crown. These & such like doubts daunted her mynde: yet chering her selfe somewhat, for that she knewe she was guiltlesse from murther or treason, decking her selfe in riche and costlie attyre, shee wente with the garde to the Parleament house: whereinto assoone as she was entered, with reuerent obeysaunce kneelinge before the Kinge, shee feare­fullie attended to heare his Maiesties pleasure. The Dukes and Lordes of Egipte were driuen in a maze at the excellent beautie of Rhodope, cursing & accusing the gods of iniustice, that had blemisht such excellent perfection, with suche imper­fecte qualities. But Psamnetichus gazing a long while on her face, began almost to fall a sleepe in sweete conceites, til at last putting such thoughtes out of his mind, with a sterne and dis­dayneful looke, he vttered these speeches.

It is no marueile if you stande amazed (Right mightie Princes of Egipte) to see your King, who was woont to craue youre consent in small affayres, without youre councell nowe [Page] to begin a thing of such greate importance, I meane a Parlea­mente. But hee that seeketh to haue his purpose vnpreuented, must not plume his actions with times feathers, leaste either fortune or counsayle hinder his enterprise. Many thinges fall out betweene the cuppe and the lippe: and daunger is alwaies a companion to delay. To take away therefore all occasions of hindrance, I haue vpon the sodayne assembled you, not onely to heare what I can saye: but without either doubt or denial, to confirme what I shall say: death hauing depriued me of her in my latter yeares who was my onlie Ioye in the prime of my youth, I meane your good Queene Farina. And although I am olde yet not so striken in age but that I muste and can yeeld to affection: so that I intende, nay I wil in dispight of as [...]menne, take Rhodope heere present to my wife, and before we depart from this session, shee shalbe crowned Queene. It may be, nay I am assured you all wil greatly mislike of the match, & grudge that your king should marry with a Curtisan. But I charge you all in generall, & I wish each one that loueth his owne life, neither with counsaile nor reason to perswade mee from that I haue purposed, least he incurre further daunger, and my perpe­tuall displeasure.

Psamnetichus vttering these wordes with a furious coun­tenaunce, draue the Noble men to sylence: But Rhodope into a greater maze, that the king vppon so small acquain­tance shoulde choose he [...] for his wife: whereuppon conceiuing an vnspeakeable ioy (for a womans heart swe [...]eth) with no­thing more then honour) shee with humble reuerence knee­ling vppon her knees, extolled Psamnetichus curtesie, that he woulde vouchsafe being a king, to looke an so base and infa­mous a creature as shee was, promising to remaine his hand­maide, prest to performe what his grace coulde either wish or commaunde, if the losse of her life might accomplish, his desire. But Philarkes, who sat nipped on the pate with this straunge newes, inraged with wrath and choller, coulde starse keepe his handes from preuenting his fathers miserie, by the violent death of such a vile strumpet, which Psamnetichus partlie [Page] perceiued by his countenance, wished him to speake his minde without controlement, whether hee liked of the match or no: promising to pardon whatsoeuer was saide. Philarkes with a face fraught full of furie, and a minde inflamed with choller, choosing (if he might) rather present death then to see his Fa­thers dignitie attainted with such dishonour, vttered his minde briefly in these woods.

May it please your highnesse, I feare to offend, if I say what I should, & yet were loath to flatter, in saying what I woulde not: but sith I may haue free libertie to speak what I think, my verdict shalbe soone giuen. I confesse that what pleaseth the father ought to content the sonne, and therfore I count Psam­netichus will a law to Philarkes: yet as obedience wisheth a consent, so nature willeth with a friendly denyall to diswade from things that offende, not onely men, but are euen hateful to the gods. I say therefore, that Psamnetichus should get more honour by exiling such an infamous strumpet, not onely from Memphis, but out of al the confines of Egypt, then if he had ob­tained more triumphes then that inuincible Caesar. No doubt your grace shall soone, nay I feare too soone, finde my words to be true, that in hoping to get a sweete content, you shal gaine a sowre disquiet: like to them which pleased with the couler of the tree Lotos, are poysoned assoone as they tast of the Apples.

Psamnetichus, such was his loue, or rather vnbridled lust, as he would not suffer Philarkes to speake any word more, but in great choller protested if his promise had not beene past, hee would haue made him repent those opprobrious speeches. The Noble men seeing the kings furie, were all in their dumpes, and durst not for feare to death gainesay y^t which he had said, so that presently Rhodope was appareled in rich and princely roabes and by two of the chiefe Dukes of Egypt lead from the Parli­ament house to the temple of the god Appollin, where the Archflamyne, as his office was, not only crowned her Queene, but also with the sacred rites celebrated & finished vp the mar­riage: in the honour whereof the Noble men making a vertue of their necessitie, appointed certaine triumphes and shewes [Page] [...]issembling their inward sorrow with outwarde conceites, and shadowing the counterfeite of griefe with pleasures colours. But poore Philarkes pinched to the heart w^t his fathers doting follie, spente the whole day in blubbring foorth bitter teares, so that he was faine to absent himselfe from the banquit: whereas Pasmneticus feeding his eies more w^t gasing on the incōpara­ble beautie of his new foreworne spouse, then his stomack with any daintie delicates, feasted his Citizens and subiectes the space of twelue dayes, so sumptuouslye as they mighte per­ceiue he spared for no cost to shewe his liberall minde. But as the longest sommers daye hath his euening, so this feaste being ended, and euery one departed to their houses, Psamneticus and Rhodope liued with such sweete concent as two such new ma­ried couples can enioy. This secure quiet continued by the spare of one whole yeere, till Venus either grudging at their halfe ho­nest loue, or disdayning that Rhodope had begun to leaue her accustomed vanitie, and was waren more charie, and lesse amo­rous, thoght to shew her lawlesse power by some more vnlawful meanes: she therfore sought to yoake that necke whiche as yet was neuer tamed, and to inflame that hearte with a burning de­sire, whiche hitherto had beene frozen with a colde disdaine, to bringe whiche to passe shee wrought this haplesse meanes.

It fortuned y^• on a daye as Rhodope looked out of her Chā ­ber windowe, shee espied yonge Philarkes playing at the barri­ers with diuerse noble men his companions, wherein he beha­ued him selfe so valiantly, as hee shewed that hee was farre superiour to them all in courage and valour. Rhodope com­mending in her minde both his prowesse and perfection, began to be tickled with a more then accustomed affection towardes him, for the gray heares of Psamneticus had alreadye glutted her fancie, and the yonge yeares of Philarkes began to sharpen her halfepined stomacke: for womens affections are not feade with kingedomes or treasures, but with youthfull conceites & sweete amours. Age may be alotted to gaze at bewties blos­somes but youthe muste clime the tree and enioye the fruite. [Page] Well, Rhodope being a woman, and therefore both amorous and inconstant, shamed not to disdaine the father and desire the sonne: yeelding her selfe captiue to lust at the first alarum. To be short, Venus had so snared her in the beautie of her sonne Philarkes as her only ioy was in enioying the sight of his per­son, yet as there is no weede so hadde which serueth not to some vse, nor confiction so deadly which hath not one good simple: so in Rhodopes minde, holely stained with vice, there were some sparks of vertue: for she considered with her self, that Psamne­tichus of a common and infamous strumpet, had without anie desert, but vpon meere affection, made her a Queene: and if she should so falsifie her faith, the gods would not suffer such dis­loyall ingratitude to be vnreuenged. Further, the impossibility of obtaining such incestuous loue, was a meanes to perswade her from such laseiuious thoughts. But shee whom Venus had blinded with shamelesse affection, cared not for these considera­tions, but followed her owne forwarde will, seeking not to re­presse her lust, but how to enioy her loue: so y^t she began to shew Philarkes, more then accustomed fauors, painting her beauty out with fresh coulers, & seeking to intrappe the young Prince with alluring flatteries, and amorous glaunces. Philarkes whose young yeares were apt for loue, began more narrowlie [...]o marke the beautie of Rhodope then he had done before, see­ing her singular perfection to bee such, and her beautie to be so rare, that she stained not onely all the ladies in Egypt, but as he thought in all the world, resembling rather a heauenly Nimph then a mortall creature, insomuch he thought his father not to be blamed for making so good a choice, and wishing himselfe if [...]uer he married as happie a chance. These sparkes of affecti­ons grew by time to a greate flame, so that he began not onely to like, but to lust after Rhodope which he sought to represse with these reasons. First he perswaded himselfe that incestu­ous adultrie was a sinne so repugnant to nature, as the verie brute beastes did abhorre the committing of such a fact, and that it was so odious both to the gods and men, as it were better to committe either sacreledge, or murther: but these [Page] thoughts could not quēch that which iniurious Venus had once set on fire, for he felt his mind so passionate with y^e beauty of his mother in law, as no counsaile might appease his maladie: yet nature and vertue so much preuailed, that he chose rather to die then to consent vnto such vnnaturall disloyaltie: his griefe so increased by concealing his disordinate fancies, that hee fell into a daungerous sicknesse, hauing his heade so weakened with continuall eare, and yrke some passions: that hee was al­most brought into a frensie. Psamnetichus seeing his sonne thus perplexed, sent for the most learned Phisitions in all E­gypt, but neither could they coniecture his disease, nor redresse his maladie, which so grieued the king as he tooke no delight but in sorrowing for his sonne Philarkes. Rhodope, who was more then half sick with the same disease, intending to see if she could sift out the cause of his sicknes, decked her self in her bra­uest attire and went to visite Philarkes: comming into his bed chamber, and finding him lying as one in a trance, shee com­manded all to auoyd the chamber for a while. Philarkes no soo­ner saw Rhodope, but he start vp in his bed and staring in her face fetcht a deep [...]igh. She who by her former occupation was a great calculater of such secreat passions, knewe without fee­ling of his pulse, where his greatest paine was, sitting therfore downe vpon his bed, taking him by the hande she intreated him with sugred speech, & amorous perswasions to vnfold the cause of his sicknesse, promising not onely to conceale it, were it ne­uer so secreat, but to redres it if lay in her power, were it neuer so daungerous. Philarkes hearing Rhodope vtter these vn­fained protestations, hoped that he might haue some successe in his sute, but shame of his vnlawful request, enioyned him a long time to sylence, til at last affections [...]anishing feare, with bash­full face and blubbring teares, he reuealed vnto her the cause of his sorrow, how her beautie had so inchaunted his mind, and bewitched his senses, that vnlesse her consent were a conserue to cure his care, there were no meanes to free him from his pas­sions but death. Rhodope no sooner hearde Philarkes vtter these wordes, but as one in a rage shee rose vp rassing with [Page] bitter termes against his folly, wheras God knowes, it was the onely thing shee desired, a womans faulte, to thrust awaye that with her litle finger, whiche they pull to them with both theyr handes. Although Philarkes saw her in suche a chafe, yet hee would not giue ouer the chase at the first default, but stoode fast to his tackling, insomuch that after a few consenting denialles, she agreed, assoone as place and time woulde serue, to fulfil his request. Philarkes sealing vp the bargain with a few sweet kis­ses, rested content with this desired consent, and in shorte time recouered his former health, to the great ioy of his father Psam­netichus, and his mother in law Rhodope.

Well, these two haplesse louers, liuing a while in their sup­posed happinesse, the gods grudging at such vnnatural actions, reuenged their bruitish disloyalty with a speedie & cruel punish­ment: for so it fell out, that Psamnetichus spyed in short time their (not to be named) villany on this wise.

The king being gone on progresse, left the Queene at home, as he thought, halfe sicke, (for what cannot women faine to ful­fill their fancies) and commanded his sonne Philarkes to beare her companie, vntil his returning: not thinking to repaire to Memphis, til a moneth were fully expired. Psānetichus beyng gone, the two louers floated in blisse, hauing such fitte opportu­nities for the fruition of their loues, as they could wishe or ima­gine. But the king doating on the beautye of his young wyfe, had not been absent ten dayes, but that he tooke post horse, and rode very secretly and speedily to Memphis, where beeyng ar­ryued, passing in at the posterne gate, onelye accompanied wyth Zoroastes his chamberlain, he found Rhodope and Philarkes in bed together fast on sleepe. Which strange & vnnaturall sight so danted the old king, as a quaking cold possessing his limmes, hee stoode trembling for the horror of suche a bruitishe fact, till his chilling feare turning into a flaming choler, hee fell almost into a raging frenzie, yet hee somewhat appeased his furye, tyll hee hadde sente for twoo or three of hys Noble menne, which hee had lefte at the Court to bee attendaunt in hys ab­sence vpon the Queene, that they myghte bee wytnesses of [Page] this vnnaturall incest. They were no sooner come, but with ra­ging threats, he wakened the two haplesse Louers out of their sweete slumber, who seeyng Psamnetichus and the noble men standing by, as beholders of their villainous adulterie, were so amazed, as they could not vtter one worde. The king disday­ning to debate of y^e matter with these vilde wretches, pullyng foorth his arming swoorde, at two stroakes dispatched them both: a punishment too good for suche a haynous offence, and a death not sharpe enough for suche incestuous traitours.

Psamnetichus had no sooner finished this tragicall strata­geme, but ashamed at his owne doating follye, and sorrowefull that his sonne had so farre transgressed the lawe of nature, went presently into his studye, and there finding a vyall of poyson, to release hym selfe from insuing miseries, ended his daies with that deadly confection.

Iupiter.

VEnus, it is better they say to sit still then to rise vp and fall, and more honor to put vp iniuries with quiet then to reuenge with losse: In seeking to dishonour my fa­ther Iupiter, you haue wrought your own discredit: resembling the Woolfe, which whilest he lurketh to deuour the Lambe, is himself sore bitten with the Panther. What haplesse and vnnatural actions do proceed from your incestuous influence, the Gods may perceiue by the sequell of Saturnes tragicall hi­storie: wherein he hath drawne such a perfect Anotomie of law­lesse loue, as no doubt it is the onely spight that displeaseth the Gods in heauen, and pestereth men vpon earth.

Venus.

Sir, you mistake the matter, for these tragicall euents pro­ceede not from the effects of Loue, but by the fleeting incon­stancie of Luna, whose mutable influence breedeth in loue a [...]ickle desire to sport in chau [...]ge: for the often iarres betweene you and Iuno come not in that you are louers, but because Lu­na hauing a place in euery natiuitie, setteth downe this sen­tence as an infallible principle: Est natura hominum noui­tatis auida.

Mars.

Well sayd Venus: let Iupiter put that in his eye he hath got by thine aunswere: for Lunas despightfull inconstancie hath made poore Iuno were the horne in her Crest, & the Cuc­kowe in her Shield, yea, and caused Iupiter himselfe to bee thought lesse honest then men, and too dishonest to be a God.

Luna.

Was it Lunas inconstancie (good sir) that caused Psamne­tichus to dote in the loue of a common Strumpet: Or came it by my influence that Philarches was tickled with such in­cestuous lust towards his mother in lawe Rhodope? Doe in­constancie goe before choyce, or chaūge before affection: Tush Mars, were you not afraide that if you spoke troth, Venus would take the toye and put you out of Commons, you would not bee of this minde: but I beare with you more then either Vulcan can or will.

Saturne.

Luna, thou hast toucht Mars at the quicke: for in deede he is so pinde to Venus sleeue, that although he rage and raise, yea, and say more then he knowes against all the Gods, yet he dare not say what he think if Venus hold vp her finger. But I mar­uell greatly that Mercurie is so silent: surely I commend him he loues not to wrangle in a wrong cause.

Mercurie.

I am glad you are so pleasaunt Saturne, but you mistake my meaning: for when Venus and Mars hit the naile on the head by attributing Psamnetichus & Philarches miseries to Lunas inconstaunt influence, I confirmed their censure by silence: for you knowe, Qui tacet consentire videtur.

Soll.

What neede these crosse blowes in so plaine a case, it is e­uident by the sequell of Saturnes tragedie, that loue bringeth with it many enormities, breeding in olde age doating affec­tions, in yong yeares wanton & lasciuious thoughts, inchaun­ting the minds of men with such vnbrideled affections, as nei­ther wisedome nor reason can restraine. Some by loue are brought from prosperitie to mishap: Others from dignities to discredite: all gaine losse: Some fading pleasures, but none in the ende perpetuall quiet. Whereof I inferre, that those hap­lesse euents which chaūced to Psamnetichus, Philarches, and Rhodope, was through the bitter delights of wanton Venus.

Iupiter.

Soll, thou art worthie to giue Oracles, sith thy censure is yeelded without parcialitie: but because Mars standeth so stif­ly in defence of Venus, I will first make a description of the essentiall nature of Mars, then shewe what tragicall mishaps proceede by his bloodie influence.

Soll.

Wee are content Iupiter (I aunswere for all) your paine shalbe to rehearse the euents, and we to attend with silence.

Iupiters Astronomicall de­scription of Mars.

THe Grecians (right mightie gods) do make ma­nifest euen by the Epitheton which they attri­bute to the Starre of Mars, [...], that it is of a fierie and inflamed nature, annexed with such burning heate and hurtfull intemperancie, stir­ring [Page] in mens bodies such hotte and adust choller, and infusing qualities together with his irradiation, more apt to destroy, then to ingender or nourish. Which the auncient Astrologers haue noted in terming Mars [...] of infec­ting or corrupting one as Phurnitus affirmeth, [...], of losse and mishappe. Therefore Galen and Ptolomey do iudge him aswell or rather more, then Saturne to be an infortunate and vnluckie Planet, since by his intemperate heate he doth burne and inflame, breeding such aboundaunce of yelowe and adust choller: that thereof doe spring many enormities, aswell to the minde as to the body. For by the intemperate heate and vehement motion of choller: doe proceede innuinerable per­turbations, whereof doe ensue violent actions, and inconside­rat affections, and passions, as brawlings, contentions, mur­thers, warres, aud such like: so that the Poets fitly haue figu­red Mars to be the God of warres, and Bellona to be his sister. But leauing them to their fictions: let vs see what can proceed of immoderate heate but cholmicke inflammations, which are apt to burne, drie, and consume: procuring haplesse and daun­gerous passions: which Ptolomey in his first Booke Apotel­lesmaton, noteth in these words. Martis stella & arefacit, & vrit sicut congruit igneo ipsius calori, & solis vicinitati vt qui illius spherae subiectus sic. And for this cause as I con­iecture, the auncient Astrologers haue denied Mars for his ap­propriate malice, to chalenge any of the faculties Animall, as also they haue done to Saturne: yet of those which are natu­rall, they haue graunted him the facultie attractiue: of the in­ward parts he hath the liuer, or rather the bladder, wherein the gall lyeth: which the Grecians call [...]: the La­tins, Bilis folliculum: or rather Biliosi humoris armariolū. And thus much briefly for the Astronomicall description of Mars: Now as touching the disposition of the Martialistes.

They are commonly ouer rash, not fearing to rush through sword and fire: seeking to mooue immoueable things: carying a head without a braine: impatient in iniuries: doing al things [Page 11] with preposterous aduise: beeing variable in their purposes: prodigall of their owne, and desirous of other means: enterpri­sing great matters: making of loathsome Sinckes loftie To­wers: lifting vp their browes euery where: touching the hea­uen with their fingers, and speaking tragically as Gyants: wearing Haye in their hornes, and mingling the heauens with the earth: hauing their feathers farre bigger then their neasts: carying Waines loden with reprochfull slaunder: wearing Nettles in their nose, and whetting their teeth vpon bitter Sorrell: Inraged as though they were stung with a Briese, and more imperious then Phalaris: As cruell to them which yeeld as Wolues: giuing to those which runne a spurre: wea­ring a bodie without a breast: whetting Iron with Iron, and putting fire to towe: quenching flames with Oyles: bearing gall in their mouth, fire in their hearts, & cutting large thongs out of other mens leather.

As touching the diseases incident to Martialistes, they be Tertian feuers, Iaundice, Phrensies, hot Agewes, Inflam­mations, Bloodie flix, Megrimes, hotnesse of Urine, and such like, which commonly proceede of the quantitie or qualitie of yellowe choller abounding: of aduston of blood, of fierie and chollericke euaporations. Further, they which participate of the nature of Mars, haue their pulses great and swift: Urine yellowe, fierie, and biting: sweate sharpe, salt and bitter: deiec­tions yellow: the tongue commonly drie: their dreames of fire, burning, slaughters, strife, warres, armours, and such like. Thus I haue described Mars his maligne disposition, and meane to confirme my sayinges with a tragicall historie.

Iupiter.

In this Countrie of Scithia there raigned a King not long since called Euandrus, who by his naturall inclination was wholy addicted vnto martiall prowesse, taking such delight in blooddie wars and cruell Skirmishes, as he thought himselfe vnfortunate, when either his enimies for feare, or he for want of some iust occasion, was driuen to liue in vnwilling quiet. This Euādrus had such happy successe in his attempts, as by his va­lour & courage, he had made a conquest of all the kingdoms ad­iacent to his dominions, Libia onely excepted, which was pos­sed by a cruell & mercilesse Tyrant named Charaxes, who see­ing that fortune without any checke, had long time fauoured Euandrus: thought, that after great calmes, would ensue lit­tle stormes, that low ebbes followed hie tydes, & that fortune, after so many sweete fauours, could not but shewe some sower frownes: whereupon he leuied a mightie Hoast, and made a [Page] suddayne inuasion into the borders of Scithia, burning and spoyling all the countrey, thinking by his desperate attempt, to make the king shrinke and seeke for Truce. But the euent fell out contrarie to his expectation. For Euandrus hearing howe Charaxes had attempted the Conquest of his Coun­trie, gathered a greate Armie, to the number of a hundreth and fiftie thousand Footemen, and fower thousand Horse­men, manfully marching forwarde, to defend his Countrie, and withstand the force of his iniurius enemie. Wherein For­tune not willing at this time to giue him the foyle, shewed him such accustomed fauour, that he valiantly discomfited Chara­xes and all his Hoste, yea and tooke the King himself prisoner: retourning into Scythia with such triumphes, that his subiects had both cause to feare and honour such a King. Charaxes be­ing thus brought prysoner into Scythia: Euandrus as he was fortunate in obtayning the conquest: so he was fauourable in vsing the victories, thinking it as Kingly to pardon: as to conquer, and as great renowne to be gotten by shewing mercie to professed foes, as curtesie to assured frends: For he intrea­ted not Charaxes as a wret [...]hed Captiue, but as a worthy Prince, entertaining him with such frendly familiaritie, as the Lybians had great cause to extoll his clemencie. Euandrus ba­thing thus in the streames of blisse, sitting firmely on y^e fickle top of prosperity, had y^e check giuē him by fortune on this wise.

Hee had by his wife which was the lately deceased, three Children, two were sonnes, borne twinnes at one instant, and in such a moment, that it was almost hard to gesse, which was y^e eldest, the one was called Fresnitus, y^e other Rhomphanus, his daughter named Lyndana, a Ladie of such exquisite per­fection and singuler beautie, that she stayned not onely in those dayes, the fayrest dames of Scythia, but almost of all the world. This Lyndana, seeing that there had bene a perpetuall enmi­tie betweene her father and the predecessors of Charaxes: and that it was not yet extinguished in the Sonne, grudging not onely, that contrarie to his desart, he was intreated so courte­ously: [Page 13] but sorrowed that it was not in her power with rigour to reuenge his presumptuous attempt. Yet thinking to pay a womans part: she detested him with a secret and deadly hate. But Charaxes contrariwise resembled the Beares, which loo­king and smelling along while at the hearbe Moli, at the last [...]ateth it, and is poysoned: so he gazing on the singular per­fection of Lyndana, was sodainly stroken with the sight of her beautie, and so snared with the due consideration of her vertu­ous qualitie, that he remained farre more perplexed, by being a captiue vnto Lyndana, then that he was vanquished by Euan­drus. For hee doubted not of the ones assured courtesie: but greatly feared the others halfe suspected crueltie, he thought the king was to be perswaded by reason, in that he was a man. The princesse hee knewe was a woman, and therefore led by vnbridled rage of froward wilfulnesse, either flaming into much loue, by no counsayles to bee quenched, or freesing into great hate, by no prayers to be kindled. Therfore these contra­rieties greatly daunted the mind of Charaxes, and draue him into such doubtfull passions, that at last he fell into these bitter complaintes.

Charaxes, thou seest now by experience, that haplesse for­tune knoweth no meane, but either she straineth her strings so hie that they cracke, or els lets them so, that they will giue no sound, either florishing her counterfaits with such fresh coulers as dimme the sight, or tricking them vp with such darke sha­dowes as cannot bee seene, lifting vp some to the Skies with sweete and inconstant fauours, and driuing some lower then hell, with bitter and assured frownes. Happie, yea thrise happy are they whose estate is so tempered by the Starres, that they they may both despight and despise this vniust and deceiptfull goddesse. It had bene better for thee Charaxes to haue died by the Sword in the Field, and haue gayned glorie, then perish by loue in the chamber, and reape discredit. Ah Lyndana, thy beautie hath so bewitched my sences, and inchaunted my affec­tions, as no meanes but thy sweete consent, can expresse my [Page] haplesse passions. O despitefull Fortnne, was it not suffici­ent to vse mee as thy captiue, but to make mee a seruile slaue vnto loue, who ruleth her subiects, not with reason, but with ri­gour: and being lawlesse rageth ouer them without law: what Charaxes, doest thou count it slauerie to serue so braue a dame as Lyndana, whose inward vertues and outward perfection is such, as she deserues to be a mate for the most famous Prince of the world: yet in loue, whatsoeuer the lucke bee, there is no gaines but losse: yeelding a pleasure mixed with bitter pas­sions, and a miserie tēpered with a fewe momentarie delights, breeding a fading content to some, but at last a perpetuall mis­like to al. Why Charaxes, if thou doest sorrowe at thy chaūce, seeke to eschewe the charme? If thou fearest to perrishe by hearing the Syrens sing, stop thine eares against their melo­die? Or play like Eagles, which surfeting on Spices, bite vp­pon the blades of Hemlocke: Or as the Inhabitants of Tryca, who when they haue cloyed their stomacks with eating sweete Dates, purge themselues with feeding on stinking Garlicke. So, if thou art snared with beholding the vertues of Lynda­na, free thy self by considering her vanities. She is beautifull, yea, but thine enemie, & one that seeketh to despight thee with a secrete hate, the daughter of him, who with a flattering cour­tesie couets perhaps to bréed at last thy bane and miserie. Tush Charaxes, if thou seekest by counsayle to cure loue, thou shalt as much preuaile, as he that goeth about to binde the winde in fetters of Silke. Thou louest Lyndana, seeke then to enioye her loue, vnlesse if thou striue against loue, thou perrish in see­king after loue. She is a woman, and therefore to bee wonne, thou hast time, place, and oportunitie: despise not then fortunes fauours, least if by delay, the grasse be cut from vnder thy feete thou repent, when had I wist shall come to late.

Charaxes hauing vttered these wordes, felt his new gall to growe to a greater griefe, and that the continuall presence of Lyndana so perplexed him, as he pined with restlesse passions: Sometimes daunted with feare: now incensed with hope, pre­sently [Page 14] trusting to obtaine if he did sue: and then dispayring to seeke least he should not obtaine: tossed a long time with these contrarie thoughts, at last he determined to giue the assault whatsoeuer his chaunce were. Well, fortune intending to fur­ther him in his purpose, brought it so to passe, that within a few daies he went to recreate himself in the Garden, where he foūd Lyndana walking solitarilie in an Arbor of Iuniper, whom after he had saluted with a submisse courtesie, he intertained in these tearmes.

Lyndana, I cannot but maruell what delight you take in these solitarie dumpes, vnlesse either you make this Arbor a place for your priuate prayer, or els your head be troubled with some louing passions: if I gesse right at the first I were loath to hinder your deuotion: if at the last I am glad my companie shall cut of your musing fancies.

Lyndana frowning at this hap to bee troubled with such an vnwelcommed guest, casting a coy looke on her newe Louer, made him this short and sharpe aunswere.

Sir, if you maruell at my dumpes, I cannot but muse at your rash coniectu [...]es, that either deuotion or loue must breede solitarinesse: but I thinke your Logike is asmuch as my La­tin, and then no maruell you make such simple distinctions. Well, admit I were at my prayers, you are not the Sainct to whom I meane to make my petitions: and if I be in loue, take no thought, your mothers sonne may take his chaunce for all my choyce.

Charaxes hearing Lyndanas sharpe replie, had a helpe cast in his way for heauing it any more at Mawe: so that he stoode nipped on the pate with this new speech, as if he had with Me­dusas presence bene turned into a Marble picture: which Lyn­dana espying, she began to laugh not at his present follie, but as she thought at his ensuing miserie: hoping that if he were intangled with her beautie, and that he were snared with the [...]ut consideration of her excellent proportion, then she might haue time to shewe how she desired both to hate and reuenge. [Page] Charaxes as thus, he for feare and she for disdaine, ceased to passe away the time in any familiar conference, there came in­to the Garden her Brethren Frestinus and Romphanus: who saluting Charaxes very friendly, spent the morning while din­ner time in diuers kinde of exercise: wherein Charaxes was very actiue, as one framed by nature wholy to Mars and Mar­tiall exploites. Well, the tables being couered, the King com­maunded these three companions to be sent for: who with hum­ble obeysaunce sitting downe at the table tooke their repast: but onely Charaxes whose sorrowe and griefe was such, as he could not but chewe vpon his raging choller, and feede vpon gall & melancholie flattering: Loue perswading him to march on for all the first repulse and hatefull disdaine, willing him to retyre before any stroake were strooke, so might he though he obtained no conquest, yet not with disgrace loose the fielde. Troubled with these diuers doubts, assane as dinner was en­ded, he got him into his Chamber, where being alone by him self, he began to consider the crooked disposition of Lyndana, and her froward crabbednesse, in crossing him cōtinually with despightfull ouerthwarts: how for desire she requited him with disdaine: and for loue with hate: that although being a prisence he was courteously intertained by Euandrus, yet the vndeser­ued crueltie of Lyndana was such a hell to his conscience, as he would not liue long in such seruile subiection. Whereupon, he began to feare that the familiar friendship of the King was but a cloake to couer his reuenging minde, and that no doubt for all his flatterie he ment to preuent him by vntimely death: so that he determined to seeke al meanes possible to escape into his owne Countrie: in which determination fortune furthered him in this wise. It so fell out that the King who greatly de­lighted in chasing of the wild Bore, went on a time to see some sporte into a Forrest, not farre of from his Pallace, onely ac­companied with Charaxes, Frestynus, Romphanus, & three of his Gentlemen: they had not long beaten vp and downe the Forrest, but they rowsed a mightie great Bore so huge and [Page 15] mo [...]strous, as it halfe amazed the King to see the bignesse, and so stout in courage, as he would not flee one foote from the Dogges, but held them all at a bay, hurting diuers of them ve­ry sore: whereat the King somewhat chaffed, wicking his horse and charging his speare ranne furiously vpon him and hit the Bore vpon the shoulder, yet pearcing him very little, but the Beast afraide with the stroke, fled, and the Dogs after in chase, euery mā preasing to be formost to haue most vew of the sport, galloping through the thickets so fast, that within two or three howers al the companie was disseuered, none remayning with the King but onely Charaxes: who seeing that now he might haue occasion to drawe himself out of the Kings daunger, be­gan diuersly to coniecture with himselfe what he should doe. First he considered with himselfe the great courtesie of Euan­drus in vsing the victorie, that whereas with rigour he might haue reuenged the burning of his Borders, yet ouercome with clemencie he forgot al such in [...]uries, and intertayned him with most frendly familiaritie: that being taken prisoner, he did not vse him as a captiue, but graunted him the libertie of a King. These things mooued Charaxes not so much as in thought to giue any offence to his highnesse, thinking that if he should re­ward the courtesie of the King with trecherie, not onely his e­nemies but euen his very friendes and subiects would despise him as an vnthankfull person. But as he was thus vertuously perswaded by the good inclination of his minde, so he was in­forced by a secrete rancour to imagine, that to bee captiue in setters of golde, was to liue in a glistering miserie: so that he thought no meanes howsoeuer vnlawfull it was to be neglec­ted, for the recouering of his former freedome: which hellish thought ouercomming his former intent, draue him into such a desperate minde, that seeing the King ride before him, he char­ged his Bore speare, and came thundring so fast vpon Euran­drus, that before he could turne his horse he runne him quite through, and threw him out of the saddle dead vpon the ground: when he had committed this hainous and bloudy fact, drawing [Page] the King into a thicket, he spurred his horse and coasted out of the Forrest, and with as much speede as might bee fled out of the confines of Scithia, and so secretly and safely within short space arriued in Libia. But leauing Charaxes to his good lucke, againe to Frestynus and Romphanus, who with great sport so hotly pursued the Bore, that within three or fower ho­wers they killed him, and sent him to the Court by two of the Gentlemen there present: which done, missing the King their father, they straight thrust into the thicke of the Forrest to goe seeke him: but coasting and coursing through ech holt & lawne, finde him they could not: yet not leauing of to hallowe and to blowe their hornes, but they could not heare any replye, ex­cept the chatting Eccho, who alwaies returned them the last ende of their measures. At last, Rhomphanus began to per­swade his brother Frestynus, that no doubt the King & Cha­raxes were gone to the Court: vpon which perswasion they both went home: where they no soner arriued, but they met their sister Lyndana, who asked where her father was: Is not the King then (quoth Frestynus) come home, we haue this day beene hunting the Bore, and in the middest of our chase we lost the sight of the King and Charaxes, whom since wee could ne­uer see nor heare. Pray God (quoth Lyndana) that Libian trai­tor hath not by any sinister meanes procured his mishap. This sodaine motion so troubled the minds of the two Princes, that they were perplexed with diuers passions, fearing that which afterward to their great mishap proued but too true. Where­vpon they caused a troupe of Gentlemen to goe in quest of the King, and they two accompaning the rest came to the Forrest, where euery man as loue and duetie bound them did their in­deuour to be the first that should finde out their leage and So­ueraigne: But Fortune willing to shewe her dismall despight brought it so to passe, that after a long time they had laboured in vaine, Romphanus happened to passe by that thicket wher­in the King lay dead, and casting his eye aside, espied a dead corps all weltered and bathed in blood: which haplesse sight so [Page 16] amazed Romphanus minde, that daunted with the terrour of such a fearful spectacle, he had not the power to alight from his horse to looke who it should be that was so cruelly murthered, but stood still gazing as one in a traunce, til one of the Gentle­men came by: who seing Romphanus so amazed, and espying the dead body, alighted, and perceiued straight it was their King and soueraigne Euandrus: then gushing forth streames of teares he wailed and wrong his hands, cursing and accusing that day as most dismall and infortunate. Romphanus seeing that it was his father, fell from his horse in a pasme, and was hardly recouered by the Gentlemen: yet at last comming to himself, pulling out the Bore speare (for as yet it remained in the wound) he would haue ended his daies with violent death, as meanes to cure his vnspeakable greefe, had he not bene hin­dered by him that was present, who perswaded him with friēd­ly aduise to despight fortune with patience, and in extreame mishaps to make a vertue of necessitie: but he talked to y^e wind and playde with Orpheus to the sencelesse stones, for Rom­phanus could no way be pacified, but still raged and rayled a­gainst the cruell destinies, who by their rigorous doomes had appointed his father such a vilde and haplesse death: As thus he was weating his fathers corpes with teares came his brother Frestynus, who seeing this monstrous Massacre, was no lesse payned with pinching greefe then Romphanus: yet such was his inward sorrowe as he could not shed one teare, but sitting downe by his father taking the Bore speare in his hand, vtte­red these wofull wordes.

O haplesse and thrise accursed fortune, who annointest the Cradle with Hony, and rubbest the Sadle with Gall, who if if thou sportest with youth, alwaies despightest age, who pam­prest at the first with sweete pleasures: and poysonest at the last with bitter mishaps: was there no meanes to reuenge, but by death: no frownes but balefull blowes: no thing to glut thee withall but my Fathers bloud. Ah nowe I see, and I sorrowe and sigh to see, that where thou fauourest much, there thou flet­terest [Page] most, that thy painted caskes are filled with sower wine: that when thou cariest in the backe of thy hand a Lambe: thou bydest in the palme a Tiger, vnhappie are they that find thee most fortunate, because in thy greatest glorie, lyes closed vp most balefull miserie. Oh Euandrus, was Caesar more fortu­nate then thou in thy life, or could he be more infortunate at his death, he triumphing for his victories, and thou inuincible for thy conquestes: he slaine by his supposed friends, and thou by thy reconciled toes, both aduaunced by fortune as a flattring goddesse, & both by her driuen to mishap as a mercilesse furie. Happie, yea thrise happie then are they who despise Fortune, for that they are to low for Fortune. The highest Caedars haue the greatest falles, the callest Reedes are most shaken with the wind: Low shrubbes withstand great tempests, and litle Min­nowes may safely swimme through the fishers net. Irus feared not to drinke of euery dish, but Alexander was poysoned in his owne cuppe: Content is great riches, and patient pouertie is the enemy to fortune. Honour is the first steppe to disquiet, and dominion is fettered with enuie: Glorie gapeth at mistrust, and Kings are Fortunes bondslaues. More happy then had Euandrus bene, if he had enioyed a poore life with prosperitie, then a Princes state with such dyrefull miserie. But alas, what auaileth it to condemne Fortune, when she triumpheth in our bitter curses. It is for me with patience to despight that iniu­rious goddesse, and with rigour to reuenge that trecherous traytor Charaxes, who most vilanously hath betrayed his as­sured friend. And with that such was his griefe, as he was not able to vtter any more wordes, but at last, seeing his brother Romphanus so impatient in his passiōs, dissembling as much as he could his outwarde sorrowe, began with counsaile to ap­pease his complaintes, and to comfort him in that case, wherein he himselfe needed a medicine: Yet somewhat saluing his bro­thers sore, they left of their d [...]llor, and taking vp the king, ca­ried him home to y^t Court, at which sight, both the Nobles & Commons cried out for the losse of their Soueraigne. But [Page 17] Lyndana as one halfe Lunaticke or inraged with some hellish furie, fell into such franticke passions, that her sorrow could by no meanes be appeased: For womens sorrowes are either to extreme, not to be redressed, or els tricked vp with dissimulati­on not to be beleeued. The comfortable counsayles of her bro­ther could not preuaile: the perswasions of her Ladies and gentlewomen were in vaine, so that she went to her bed, where weried with wayling teares: griefe and watching so wea­kened her wittes, that she fel almost into a frenzie. But Fresti­nus saluing his care, with patience, prouided a rich and sump­tuous Tōbe for his fathers corps, inriching his funerals with such magnificent prouision necessarie for the entombing of such a potentate, as all the subiectes sorrowing for the losse of their King, yet reioysed that they should bee gouerned with a Prince of such vertuous & naturall disposition. Frestinus care­ful that nothing should want to the beautifying of the Tombe, caused an Epitaphe to be ingrauen in a Marble Piller, wher­in stoode a King all armed in rich Plate, holding in the right hand a Diademe beset with precious stones, whereat hanged a great Globe of Leade, fastened with a very smal wyre: round about the Globe was written this Poesie.

In the other hand he held a Ladie blinded with a vale, which stoode vpon a round Bowle, with smiling and delightful coun­tenaunce, putting with her right hand a flower to his Nose, and with her left striking him into the backe with an Arrowe, on her brest was written this Poesie.

In the midst of this Marble Piller did hang a Table, wher­in was curiously ingrauen this Epitaphe.

Well, the Funeralles being most richly and sumptuously finished, after a fewe daies were past in bewayling Euandrus death, Frestynus sommoned a Parliament, vnto which all the Nobilitie with certaine of the Commons elected generally repayred: wherein as eldest sonne and heire apparent, he was by the common consent of them all rightly crowned King of Scythia. This thing with others concluded, the day of his Co­ronation being come according to the custome of y^e Countrie, the Dyadem was set on his head, to the great ioye of al his sub­iects, who shewed their duetifull good will and obedyence in appointing Iustes & Turneyes, in making rare and straunge shewes, performed with such cost and diligence, as it bred a great content to all men. But Romphanus, whose heart was puffed vp with a greedie desire of glorie, thought he was not borne to bee a subiect, but a soueraigne, and that since it was hard to iudge by the momenta [...]ie space of their birth whether was the eldest, he was hardly dealt-withall, that he was not ei­ther elected King, or els at the least had the kingdome deui­ded betwixt them. This motion greatly troubled the minde of Romphanus, yet he a long while sinothered this aspyring en­uie, [Page 18] till he might finde some iust occasion to vtter his canker [...] stomacke, and aswell as the rest shewed the loue of a Brother and the duetie of a Subiect, till it fell out by the despightfull meanes of fortune, that a certaine Lord in Scythia called Pas­quino, being somewhat hardly dealt withall by Frestynus (for in deede he was somewhat tyrannous to his subiects) made a Mutinie, and raysed an Insurrection against the King, gathe­ring a great Host, which grewe in short time to a huge multi­tude, because Romphanus taking time least the grasse might be cut from vnder his feete, ioyned himselfe with Pasquino, so that their two powers being vnited was of great force. Fresty­nus troubled with this sodaine tumult, hearing that his Bru­ther Romphanus was ioyned to the Rebelles, was greatly greeued: yet no whit dismaying himselfe leuied a mightie ar­mie, and marched towardes the Campe where the Duke Pas­quino and his brother lay: they hearing of the kinges power, and vnderstanding by a Herralt, that the next day they must ei­ther flee or giue him battell, set their Soldiours in good aray, and went into the fielde: where when the Armies were almost ready to meete, Romphanus began to exhort his Soldiours to consider what they had taken in hande, that they were to fight against Frestynus their King, who had not gouerned thē with mercie but with rigour, whose will in all actions was a lawe, to whom if now they should yeeld, he would not take pit­tie of them as a louing Soueraigne, but torment thē as a cruel Tyrant, that they were to fight for their freedome and libertie, their landes, children and wiues: how it was not vpon the part of a Subiect they did rise, but for one to whom of right the Croune did belong, who if he should obtaine the victorie, would reward them with present coyne and ensuing fauour and cour­tesie: With these and such like perswasions he incouraged his Soldiours, and so animated them with [...]eare and hope, that as it were in a desperate minde they ranne vpon their enemies, and after a sore and daungerous b [...]ttell, many [...] of either part, Frestynus was put to flight [...] hardly escaped [Page] with his owne life: yet by the swiftnesse of his horse he secretly fled into the Countrie, where for a time he lurked in diuers pla­ces, till at last fearing his Brothers furie he coasted ouer into Libia. Romphanus in the meane time hauing obtayned the Conquest, thought now with Caesar, if he could not settle him selfe by right, to place himself with force and rigour: therefore he first cut of all those of the Nobilitie which he knew were his Brothers familiares, and placed in their Offices his chiefest friendes: Then sommoning a Parliament, was straight elec­ted and crowned King. Safely and securely settled thus in his Kingdome, he little feared or thought of his Brother Fresty­nus: who lying vnknowne in the Borders of Libia, hearing what was done by Romphanus, thought rather to offer his Kingdome to his enemie Charaxes, then put vp his Brothers trecherous iniuries. Whereupon he presently went to Cha­raxes, who seeing Frestynus in such estate, was greatly ama­zed: yet he most courteously and kingly imbraced him, and de­maunded the cause of his so straunge and vnlookt for arriuall. Frestynus vnfolded vnto him the cause of his comming, how Romphanus his brother had sediciously driuen him out of his Kingdome and Countrie, and possessed himself of the Crowne and Dyadem, and that if it pleased him to take the matter in hand, and by force repossesse him of his Domynions, he would acknowledge himself his Subiect and pay him yerely tribute. Charaxes seeing the way layd open before him to enioye the Kingdome of Scythia, made aunswere to Frestynus, that he would for his sake giue Romphanus such a breakfast, as he should neuer be able to disgest it, bidding him be of good chere, for what he had promised he would with all speede performe. Upon this Frestynus rested, & Charaxes smyling in his sleeue mustered all Libia, and gathered a mightie Host of good and valiaunt Soldiours, furnishing them with such Armour, and his Camp with such warlike Artillarie and Munition, as was able to afray the greatest Prince in those parts. Being thus prouided, he protracted no time but passed into Scythia, where [Page 19] he raced downe diuers Townes which withstood him, putting all to the edge of the sword that obeyed not to the Herralt sent vnder the name of their lawfull King Frestynus. This bloudy inuasion terrified so the Scythians, that he quietly passed tho­rowe a great part of the Countrie without any skirmish, but at last Romphanus met him with a great power and ioyned battell: betwene whom was a daungerous and cruell conflict: the Scythians fearing the tyrannie of Frestynus & Charaxes, and the Libians hoping for no mercie if they remayned van­quished: The combat continuing still doubtfull, till the two Brothers Romphanus and Frestynus met, betweene whom there was a mortall combat: at last Frestynus feeling himselfe in some perril, redoubled his strength and slewe Romphanus: who no sooner was dead but his Soldiours began to faint and to flee: whereupon the Libians pursued them so fast, that they made a monstrous massacre, leauing of all the Armie fewe or none aliue. Constrayned at last by the approching of the night to retyre: the Libians went home to their Tents with great ioye and triumph: Amongst whom went Frestynus as a wor­thie Conquerour, ioyfull for so happie a Conquest. Well, the Soldiours banquetting and making chere for their good suc­cesse: Charaxes & Frestynus supped together as good frends, and departed not while late in the night. But vpon the next morning Charaxes being earely vp, came into Frestynus tent, accompanied with diuers of his Nobles, whom he found fast a sleepe in his bed, and drawing out his arming sworde, without respecting either law of God or man smot of his head, leauing the body weltring in his bloud: which when he had done, he called straight for a Herralt at Armes, and taking the heads of the two Brothers, sent them speedilie to the Ladie Lyndana, with a Letter to this effect.

Charaxes of Libia to the Scithian Princesse Lyndana, graunteth life.

[Page 20]THe Herault taking the heads and the Letter, went with all speede to Syraaca, the cheefe Citie of Scithia, where being admitted to the presence of Lyndana, hee first requested her on his knee, that although hee brought his message from a most mercilesse Tyraunt, yet it would please her grace to pardon him as a seruant, and with that presented the heades and the Letter. This strange sight strooke such a desire to reuenge, in­to the heart of Lyndana, that as one nothing amazed, she tooke her brothers heades and kissed them, and without chaunging countenaunce or letting fall one teare, deliuered them to one of her Ladies, and then opening the Letter read the contents, which after she had throughly perused, she put in her Pocket, and tould the Herault that he should not onely haue an an­swere, but also retourne without harme, charging her seruants with great courtesie to entertaine him. This straunge demen­nour of Lyndana, draue the Heralt into a great maze, that such a Princely valour should bee shrowded vnder so beautifull a creature. Well, Lyndana withdrawing her selfe into her Chamber, tooke Penne and Incke and retourned him this aunswere.

Lyndana of Scithia to the Tyrant Charaxes disdaine.

THE Herralt hauing receiued the Letters, hasted back againe to the Campe: where being ariued, he deliuered them to Charaxes: who vnripping the Seales, found how little Lyndana either passed for his loue or threats. Whereupon, fal­ling from desire to disdaine, and from loue to hate, he made a sollempne protestation to ra [...]e the walles of Syranca, within two daies to spare neither olde nor yong: and as for Lyndana, no torture should bee sufficient to requite her crueltie. Here­vpon he marched forward with his Hoast toward the Citie, and within two daies incamped about it, laying siege very nye to the walles, and on the next morrowe with battering Peeces & rammes of Iron assayed to beate it downe: The which Lyn­dana perceiuing, willing rather to ende her daies by vntimely death, then to fall into the hands of such a Tyraunt, assembled [Page 21] all the Citizens, and there exhorted them to be valiaunt, and to consider that Charaxes had first slaine their Lorde and Soue­raigne Euandrus, then his two sonnes, Frestynus and Rom­phanus, and now ment not onely to spoyle her and the whole Countrie, but also to put them and their wiues and children [...]o the edge of the sworde: so that it were better for them to dye va­liauntly in the fielde and so preuent insuing mishap, then to fall into the handes of such a Tyraunt and liue in perpetuall mise­rie. This perswasion of a woman so animat [...]d the Scythians mindes, that they became not onely resolute but desperate, pre­ferring death before captiuitie, and choosing rather to perrish in combat with glorie, then yeeld to Charaxes with slauish dis­credite. And hereupon, setting themselues in aray, they vali­auntly issued out of the Citie. Lyndana standing in a Turret vpon the walles to incourage them the more, minding (if her Citizens were ouercome) to throwe her selfe headlong from the top of the Tower. The Libians seeing them issue out, smy­led at their rash folly: and marching forward, thought to haue daunted them at the first dash; but the Scythians manfully ru­shed vpon their enemies, end in short time made such slaughter of the Libians, that they were faine to retyre: the Scythian Horsemen pursuing so hotly that they brake the ranckes: and Charaxes seeing his Soldiours goe to the wor [...]t began to flie, but he was followed by two noble men of Scythia so fast, that he was taken aliue: all the rest of his Soldiours without mer­cie put to the edge of the sworde, that there was not so much as one left to carie newes home to Libia. Lyndana seeing this vnlookt for Conquest, reioyced greatly: but especially when she sawe Charaxes taken prisoner: whom after she had in her custodie, she put to death with fondrie kindes of tortures: and taking out his heart aliue, worketh her endlesse reuenge on it in this maner: and to satisfie her loue to her Brethren, drinketh wine out of their skulles. Thus sir (quoth the Ladie) you heare the straunge maner of my Sacrifice, which I haue and wil vse to my perpetuall content.

Mars.

IVpiter, your tragedie with his bitter and wofull euents, hath not driuen such passio­nate impressions into the mindes of these sacred Gods, but that they can affoorde to laugh at your foud and phantasticall ap­plications: seeing in coueting to conquer, the victorie returneth to an other mans glorie, and shooting at the Fort, you faint in the weakenesse of your owne force: As though most wilfull wise Iupiter, it came through my infectious influence, that Euandrus was slaine by the vilanous trecherie of Charaxes: or that the intestine iarres which rose betweene the two Brothers Frestynus and Rom­phanus, happened for that I was predominant in the calcula­tion of their natiuitie: but rather that honor (the first steppe to mishap) forced Charaxes to enterprise that dismall mischiefe: and the desire to rule, bred the ciuill dissention betweene the two Princes: for if Euandrus had bene content with the lim­mits and bounds of his owne Countrie, neither had his mishap nor his childrens miserie so infortunatly chaunced.

Saturne.

Mars, your reasons can neither be of any great waight nor of any stayed wisedome: because they are fierie, proceeding frō such a burning Planet and furious, yeelded by such a cholle­ricke [Page 22] God. But hearing your naturall inclination so fitly and rightly decyphered by Iupiter, wee are forced to beare with your follie, because we must allowe you to be Mars.

Venus.

Saturne, I think you haue rubd your browes with y^e sweate of a Bull, because you are so light in the braines: or smelled to the hearbe Anyta, that purgeth melancholie: you are so plea­saunt, you runne descant on Mars his doomes, disallowing thē without any reason, and yet not able to disproue them by any right: but tis your old custome, whē your are weary with plod­ding in your dumpish moodes, then you fall though crookedly to trauerse in your doating merriments.

Luna.

Venus, no doubt your skill in simples is very good you are so perfect in declaring the secrets. How Saturne hath rubd his browes we knowe not, but that Vulcan is a Bucke of the beast head, euery fond Forrester can discerne. Tis pittie the poore Smiths head is faine to bee a subiect for Mars to worke vpon: but tis no great matter, for Vulcan reuengeth in painting out the discredite of the one, and the dishonestie of the other.

Mercurie.

Tis happie Luna your course is in the night, for els your lickerous lippes would be thought to sauour of the same Let­tice: but letting that passe, I pray you tell me how this Tra­gedie can happen by the sinister constellation of Mars, sith the [...]he cause is alwaies iudged by the effects: what forced both E­uandrus and Charaxes to make such mutuall inuasions, the Martial influence of Mars? No, but rather Iupiter [...] [...]mbitious infusion, which wrought in them both a greedy desire of glory.

Iupiter.

Mercurie, you speake of affection, was it not first a Mar­tiall and hatefull minde in Euandrus, who neuer thought him self content, vnlesse in imbrewing his hands in bloudy battels, [Page] and thinking himself then onely infortunate when he was dri­uen to liue in vnwilling quiet? Was not Charaxes of a merci­lesse and furious disposition, to repay Euandrus courtesie with such hellish crueltie: and hauing once obtained Libia, to seeke the life of the louely Ladie Lyndana: but I appeale to the sa­cred verdict of Soll.

Soll.

Iupiter and ye mightie Gods, my censure is that the euents of this bloudie and balefull Tragedie, came by the intemperat influence of Mars: for Euandrus and Charaxes by the confi­guratiō of their natiuities (as the successe of their actions make manifest) were mere Martialistes, giuen to debates and dissen­tion, to broyles and tumults, feeding vpon gall and choller: And as for Rōphanus, it is euidēt it was not the desire of glo­rie and dominion, but a bloudie & enuious minde, which sought with secrete malice to breede his brothers mischiefe: so that I conclude, al these sinister and tragicall Massacres, came by the balefull influence of Mars.

Mars.

Soll, I rest content with your doome, but sith Iupiter stands so much vpon his Pantofles, I will first make an Astronomi­cal description of Iupiters essence, and then proue by a true and Authenticall Tragedie, that most haplesse miseries come by the desire of honor and ambition.

Soll.

Not so Iupiter, for you see the night hath cast her duskie Mantle on the Skye, and Thetis standeth wayting where I shall wet my glistering rayes in the Ocean, so that wee must at thi [...] [...] dissolue this sacred Parliament: but assone as Au­rora [...]th mee from my drowsie neast I will meete in this present place, and moderate your controuersies: vntill when I wish you all to remaine as friends without any quarrelous dis­sentions.