IN the Ile Cyprus there reigned a king called Amasias, whose fortu­nate successe in warres against his foes, and bountifull curtesie towards his friends in peace, made him to be greatly feared, and loved of all men. This Amasias had to wife a Ladie called Philoclea, by birth royall, lear­ned by education, faire by nature, by vertues famous, so that it was hard to judge whether her beauty, fortune, or vertue, wan the greatest commendati­ons. These two linked together in perfect love, led their lives with such fortunate content, that their subjects great­ly reioyced to see their quiet disposition. They had not beene married long, but Fortune (willing to encrease their happinesse) lent them a sonne, so adorned with the gifts of Nature, as the perfection of the child greatly augmented the love of the parents, and the joy of their Commons: in­somuch that the men of Cyprus to shew their inward joyes by outward actions, made Bone-fires and Triumphes throughout all the Kingdome, appointing Iustes, and Tur­neis, for the honor of their yong Prince: whither resorted, not onely his Nobles, but also diverse Kings and Princes, [Page 2] which were his neighbours, willing to divulge the friend­ship which they bore to Amasias, and to win fame and glo­rie by their prowesse and valour. Amasias, whose minde was fraught with princely liberality, entertained the King, Princes, and Noble-men, with such submisse courtesie, and magnificall bountie, that they all saw how willing he was to gratifie their good willes, making a generall feast for his Subjects, which continued by the space of fortie dayes: all which time the solemnities were kept, to the great content both of the Lords and Ladies there present. This triumph being ended, the assembli [...] tooke their leave of Amasias; and Philoclea their yong sonn [...] (who was called [...]) was nur­sed vp in the house, to the great joy and content of the Pa­rents. Fortune envious of such happie successe, willing to shewe some signe of her inconstancie, turned her wheele, and darkned their bright s [...]nne of prosperitie, with the mi­stie cloudes of mis-hap and miserie. For it [...]o happened that the King and Queene purposing to take the ay [...]e, had appointed a day to hunt in one of their Forrests to sport themselves, where having a Stag in chase, through their hot pursute, Philoclea fell from her Steed, and was sore bruised, who being by her guard speedily rai [...]ed, was immediately carried to the Pallace doore, much weakned and wearied, with sustaining such an intestine conflict: at length such was the boy sterousnesse of deaths continuall battrie, (like vnripe fruit which abideth manie pluckings before it fall) she striving with often plunges, in her last and latest gaspe, gave vp the ghost. This sodaine event so appalled the Kings senses, that he sunke from his seate in a swoune, so as he was faine to be conveyed by his Nobles to bed, where he lay by the space of three daies without speach. His com­mons were as men in despaire, so diversly distressed; there was nothing but mourning and lamentation to be heard throughout [...]ll Cyprus: their vertuous Queene bereaved of hir life▪ their King and Soveraigne in great hazard: this tra­gicall discourse of Fortune so daunted them, as they went like shadowes, not like humane creatures: yet somewhat to [Page 3] comfort their heavie hearts, they heard that Amasias was come to himselfe, and had recovered his speech, who as in a fury reached at a Rapier to have killd himself; but his Peers being present, stayed him from such a bloodie act: perswa­ding him to thinke, that the common wealth consisted on his safetie, and that those sheepe could not but perish, that wanted a sheepheard, wishing that if he would not live for himselfe, yet he should have care of his Subjects, and to put such fancies out of his mind, sith in sores past helpe, salves do not heale, but hurt,and in things past cure care is a co­rasive. With these and such like pe [...]swasions the King was overcome, and began somewhat to quiet his mind, so that as soone as he could go abroad, he caused his wife to be em­balmed, and wrapped in lead, erecting a rich and famous Sepulchre wherein [...]e ent [...]bed her, making such solemne obsequies at her funerall, as al [...] Cyprus might perceive that he [...] did bewaile her death. Amasias notwithstanding would once a day repaire to the tombe, and there with wa­trie complaints deplore his misfortune, coveting no other companion but sorrow, nor any other harmony but griefe. But leaving him to his dolorous passions, let vs come to E­liosto his sonne, being the chiefe cause of the description of this historie. This Eliosto being fourteene yeares old, was no lesse finely shaped, then sweetly demeanoured, a pattern of such perfection, as is seldom found in earthly substance. But s [...]th I cannot fully expresse his feature, I will rehearse vnto you the description of him couched by a Cyprian pen man in a briefe Ode, a conceit well knowne to all Sheepe­heards, and by them oft recited▪

[Page 5]Such and so many were his perfections, that he could not fully describe them, much lesse I discover them: he was affe­cted of many, and admired of all; Sheepheards doated on him, Lasses droupt for him, all liked him; for who could not love him? It is the custome of the inhabitants of Famagosta, to rest in some shade when summers scorching heate an­noyes them: being shrowded from the Sunne, they spend the time in discoursing vpon their owne, or their fellowes fortunes, Sheepheards I meane, men of their owne profes­sion, whether native in Cyprus or no, as in memorizing the worth of Philoclea, praising the perfections of Phyllis, lamen­ting the losse, commending the loyaltie of Amyntas, mour­ning for the death, yet misliking the disdaine and pride of Amaryllis, pittying the distresse of the forlorne Sheepheard, the vnhappy admirer, though happy herauld of her worth. But if Eli [...]sto by hap came by, as oft he did, they would ab­ruptly breake off these discourses, and follow him greedily, gazing on so glorious an object. Nor was this vniformity of affections onely in humane hearts; for the rurall powers were touched with like simpathy. Pan sighed to see him, remembring by him his Syrinx, though of another sexe. The Hamadriades flocked to view him, wishing him one of their troope: Faunes, Sylvans, Satyres, seldome seene before, were oft beheld by men, while they left the halowed groves, to gaze in the open fields on that eye-Syren, allu­ring not with the sound, but at the sight. But as no extreame is durable, so too soone to breake off the knot of this ex­ceeding comfort, see what ensued.

Amasias having now through tract of time, sufficiently digested his sorrowes, lived in his Court, no lesse accompa­nied with the most honourable, then beloved of the most vertuous; where finding that humors were no honours, and time lost could never be recovered, thought good at the earnest perswasions of his Peeres, to enter againe into the lists of marriage: which thing being knowne, many Princes of Ionia and of Europe, desirous to insert themselves into so royall a kinred, and to have interest in so noble a family, [Page 6] offred their daughters with large portions. But onely the Prince of Lemnos sped in his [...]ute, whose aliance the King accepted, as being a man noble in deed, graced with al orna­ments which Nature might afford, or Vertue chalenge. His daughter also named Cleodora, was a creature endued with such ornaments of the body, graced with such qualities of the minde, that it seemed Nature and Vertue concurring in one, had conspired to make her a peerelesse proofe-peece of their vnited perfections; and though Fortune fretting at their favours so largely bestowed, sought to crosse their courtesies with her cruelties; yet [...]ould s [...]e not at that time, blemish the bright-shining wor [...]h of so famous a wonder. But as a small clowd in a cleare day may somewhat s [...]aine, though not wholly stop the sunnes light: so Fortunes ma­lice, did rather darken then drowne her merits, in whose Ivory browes, Chastitie sate enthronizde, as gardian of her lookes, Modestie teinting her cheekes with a vermi [...]ian die of Virgin-redmaiden blushes, emblazond her a map of mirrors. Maiesty which beautie claimed, birth challenged, love commanded, guided hir gestures with such decent pro­portion, as Iuno wanted in the pride of her glorie, and Mi­nerva in the prime of her pompe. These gifts, these g [...]ories did so vnluckily (as the sequell will manifest) enchant, en­thrall, enforce Amasias, that having scarce vi [...]wed her, hee vowed her his owne: such deepe impressions were wrought in his affections. To be brie [...]e, the parties were resolved to give Love his right, and so married they were honoura­bly.

For that purpose the Cyprian King sent Heralds to all the Iles adjacent, and Provinces situate in the maine of Greece, which published in his name, leave and liberty of accesse to all whomsoever, especially strangers of account which did repaire to his Court, and were present at his nup­tialls, and honoured him in such prince like exercises, as did best beseeme the worth of that intended solemnitie. Be­sides a troope of meaner persons, the most worthy Heroes of Greece appeared at the appointed time; and being pre­sent [Page 7] at the ceremonies of Hymens rights, gave honourable te­stimonie of their performance.

Forth with many honourable sports and deedes of chi­valry were exercised; in which, Eliosto was cheefe challen­ger, suted in purest white, mounted vpon a milke white Courser, richly caparrasoned. These second solemnities thus finished, the Lemnian Prince and other strangers de­parted, bruiting an honourable report of the Cyprian Courts royaltie.

This married couple for two yeares living in a league of vnited vertues, safely floated in the seaes of securitie, and ba­thed themselves in the streames of blisse; they were not daunted with any dread, because they saw no present dan­ger; they thought that the sea being calme, there could come no tempest; that from the cleere aire, could ensue no stormes; that quiet ease was not the mother of discention, and that, were Fortune once tuned, in the strings could never bee found any discord. But they at length tried, though by hap­les [...]e experience, that when Nilus filleth vp his bounds, en­sueth a dearth; when the Angelica is laden with most seede, then he dieth; when musicke was heard in the Capitoll, then the Romans were plagued with pestilence; when Circes prof­fered most guifts, she pret [...]nded most guile; and that when Fortune had deprived them of most care, then she meant to drowne them in the greatest calamitie: so she thinking to give them the Mate, began thus to proffer the Checke.

There chaunced to bee in his Court attendant vpon a Noble woman, a proper peece, named Florinda, who by birth was but the daughter of a Knight, but by beautie see­med to be a heavenly creature. Now the destinies so or­dered the matter that the king by chance cast a looke vpon this gorgeous goddesse, and at the first view was so van­quished by vanitie, that he thought his l [...]fe no longer plea­sant vnto him, then when he was in her sight, and failed not dayly familiarly to frequent the Mistresse cōmpanie, for the Maides cause. And having attempted her chastitie, by shewing her his great good will, by bestowing on her [Page 8] gifts, by large promises of preferment, and many other meanes; nevertheles, missing of his purpose at that time (for as yet she stood at defiance with incontinencie) in pensive perplexitie, fell at parlee with himselfe, to this purpose. Why Amasias (quoth he) art thou so squeamish that thou canst not see wine, but thou mu [...] surfeit? Canst thou not draw nie the fire and warme thee, but thou must with Saty­rus kisse it and burne thee? Art thou so little maister of thy aflections, that if thou gaze on a Picture, thou must with Pigmalion be passionate? Canst thou not passe through Pa­phos, but thou must offer incense to Venus? Dost thou thinke it injurie to Cupid to looke, if thou dost not love? Ah, fond foole, know this, fire is to be vsed, but not to be handled; the Baaran flower is to be worne in the hand, not chawed in the mouth; the precious stone Echites is to be applied outward­ly, and not to bee taken inwardly; and beautie is made to feede the eye, not to fetter the heart. Wilt thou then swal­low vp the bait which thou knowest to be bane? Wilt thou hazard at that, which can not be had without harme? No, stretch not too farre, wade not too deepe, violate not the rites of matrimonie, impeach not thy faith plighted to Cleodora, vse beauty, but serve it not, shake the tree, but taste not of the fruit, lest thou find it too hard to be disgested. Why, but Beautie is a god, and will bee obeyed, Love loo­keth to command, not to bee conquered: Iuno strove but once with Venns, and she was vanquished: Iupiter resisted Cupid, but he went by the worst; it is h [...]rd for thee with the Crabbe to swimme against the streame, or with the Salamander to strive against the fire: for in wrastling with a fresh wound, thou shalt but make the sore more dange­rous. Can Beautie (fond foole) be resisted, which makes the gods to bow? Love himselfe yeelded to the feature of Psyche, and thinkest thou thy fancie to be of greater force? But Amasias, if thou wilt needes love, vse it as a toy to passe away the time, which thou may est take vppe at thy lust, and lay downe at thy pleasure. Love! why Amasias doost thou dreame, whome shouldest thou love? Flori [...]da? what [Page 9] thy servant? no sure thou art not so fond. And with that, as he vttered these words, such thoughts, such sighes, such sobs, such teares as [...]ailed him, as he was stricken dumb with the extremitie of these hellish passions, scarce able to draw his breath for a good space, till at last recovering his senses, he fell to his former sorrow in this [...]ort.

I ever heretofore thought a Princes life to be voide of contention, and that they had alwayes passed their time in pleasure wi [...]hout moles [...]ation, but now I s [...]e we are as soone exposed to sorrow as the meanest subject we have. Likewise be [...]ore this, I was o [...] opinion, that the number of friends, a­bo [...]nding in riches, continuing in health, and such like things which pertaine to the bodie, were sufficient to at­taine to felic [...]tie in [...]his life: but now I see, it is the mind that maketh mi [...]th, and stirreth griefe; yea, the contented minde is the onely riches, the onely quietnesse, the onely happi­nesse. Good God! how vnsavory seeme those sweet meates vnto me, wherein I was wont to delight? how vnpleasant are the s [...]orts wherein I was woont to take pleasure? how co [...]bersome is the companie, which was woont to content me? no game pleaseth me, no triumphs, no shewes, no haw­king, no h [...]nting, yea, nothin [...] vnder the Sunne doth solace me. And would I know the cause why I have not a con­tented mind? The exquisite pa [...]ts of Florinda do so diversly distract my minde, that onely her sight is sweet, onely her societie is comfortable, onely her presence is delightful vn­to me: the reason is, in her the Fates have fixed my happi­nesse; in her the heavens have laid vp my felicitie; her com­panie I must injoy, and without it I must die. Here vpon be­taking himse [...]e to his meditations, hee framed a Letter to Florinda, to this effect.

As soone as he had written his Letter, he dispatched a Messenger as privily as might be, who speedily delivering his Embassage, was willed by Florinda to expect an answer; who ruminating vpon the contents of his Epistle, being in­cited by sordid preferment, she thought by his approved loyaltie, that her may denly modestie was sufficiently stray­ned: and therefore, after a sort, was at length willing, after long warding and awarding his waster, to affoord him the vennie. For who knowes not (quoth she) that this Hawke which comes now so faire to the fist, may to morrow check at the Lure. Having said this, shee wrote as hereafter fol­loweth.

This Epistle came to Amasias as acceptable as metamor­phosed Iupiter, creeping into 'Danaes lappe: for surelie this was gold to the King, as that a golden shower to Danaë. After this, there passed many pleasant lines betweene them, neither did Amasias write s [...]pithily, but Florinda answered as pretily; for if he were faine, she was fervent; if he could not disgest delay, she could not but detest the cause that kept him away: each performed their devout orizons for their luckie loves, each thought Fortune to be f [...]owning, and the Fates adverse; they tearmed Venus verie sleepie, and sluggish, because she heard not their praiers, or else was over hard in not granting their requests. Thus sitting togither in the sympathy of their paines and almost sinking in t [...]e sea of their passions, they desired a thing no lesse dif­ficult then dangerous, hard to be acted and of hazard to be effected: they both wished a parley, which could not bee compassed without some inconvenience [...]: for never was the dread [...]ull Dragon such a gardian to the Hesperides Gar­dens; never Argos so [...]harie of his injunction, as Florinda [...] Mistresse was warie in watching her Maid: but to what end? She [...] end her life, as amend her leawd­nesse. Neither was this fault peculiar to this particular one­ly, but the folly o [...] all men in generall: it is as well others fu­rie, [Page 13] as it was her frenzie, to over-looke that which maugre their beards will away. No, no, they may not straine that string to their owne tune, which being stubburne will not once stretch; they may not restraine her madnesse, who rega [...]deth not her owne chastitie, were they as quicke sigh­ted as Eagles, as subtile as Serpents.

Danaë would neither regard the diligent watch which attended vpon her, nor the brazen Castell that warded her, but became more loose both of her lips and lap, then Pene­lope assayed by many sutors, yet observed by no overseers. The Coltmost rageth, the more hee is reined vp; the river then streameth, the more it is stopped, and an vnchast woman narrowly watched, becomes more wilfull, she is sharpest set, when she is surest beset, yea, when she is most h [...]ndred from vice, she most ha­steth vnto vanitie. For Florindi perceiving squint-eyed mis­trust to keepe sentinell at her Chamber doore, and quicke­sented suspition to folow her footing, ready to trip her least treading awrie, hanged her witts on the teinter hookes, till she might racke out some sleight to hoodwinke her Mi­stresse with a Cowes biggin. To be briefe, the time of their meeting was appointed on the third day following, but two dayes seemed so long and loathsome, so tedious, yea, and so intollerable, that they thought two yeares to have passed before the prefixed houre was present. Which Ama­sias finding true, to deceive the tediousnes of the day, would go to bed with the Lamb, and rise with the Lark; yet would the night seeme lothsome: he would spend the day in cour­ting Ladies, and discoursing of love; yet hee deemed everie minute a month, till Red-rose fingred Aurora appearing with gray haires, all be-dangled with silver deaw, gave a watchword to glorious Phoebus, who rowsing himself from [Page 14] his watrie Couch, crowning his golden lockes with a Dia­dem of Chrysolite, mounted vp loftie Olympus, and newly peeped and appeared in our Harrison, when loe, Amasias, pushing at his Mistresse Chamber doore, which by good chaunce flew open, and granted him wished passage, saw his dearest Florinda, who was then working an handkir­chiefe with blacke Silke and Gold: about whose snowie necke folding his armes, they passed the time away with such delightfull sports, and new conceyved ioyes, as either their mindes might wish to have, or their soules desire to see. But Amasias knowing time to be beneficiall vnto him, yet not too bountifull; to be large, yet not over liberall, en­ding delay, and beginning to dallie; first he set foorth his foote, first hee offered to give the onset and assault, neither by force did he first endevour to take that fort, but by faire meanes; he required and requested the fruit of his love and labours: the Gentlewoman waged the matter with words, which indeed are womens best weapons, saying that shee had more care of her credite, and regard of her honor then so to shake hands with honestie; that she never passed any such promise vnto him, neither did hee ever crave any fur­ther curtesie then her company, or at the most a kisse, wher­by finding occasion, shee sealed the same with her bright sanguine lippes, saying that now she had given him his de­sired guerdon: to which Amasias smiling, replied after this maner.

Either my arrivall in this place is suspected, or not su­spected; if suspected, certes the outwardmost is suspected, if not suspected, neither will this be revealed. Nay cut off my head (quoth he) if now I reape not the fruit of my hope. I, but it is sinne said Florinda. Sinne, quoth he? It is sinne, not to swallow in delights, dangling at our lips. it is sinne to abstaine from pleasure, if that only may preserve our life: Yet would I not preserve my life by doing wrong answe­red Florinda. Nay, thy selfe earst did dest say (quo [...]h Amasias) that thou we [...]t mine by right: therfore where are now your weake reasons? weake they were God-wote, and scarce cur­rant: [Page 15] but let me see whether your selfe be as stout to resist, as your gentle perswasions were substantiall to make mee desist. This being said, Amasias, as it best beseemed Ama­sias offred her gentle violence, and violent gentlenes, which as some say, seldome comes to women vnaccepted: shee a­gaine for fashions sake combated, but willing to bee con­quered; for indeed, ere long, Amasias rode in triumph: and which some men may maruaile at, he behaved himselfe like Hydra, whose neckes pared off with the heads, were renued with two in each place: like Anteus by each fall gathering more force; or as the stone of Thracia, which dipped in wa­ter to be cooled, waxeth most fervent. After this Florinda feasted him with as daintie and delicate dishes, as her selfe could devise, wherevnto wanted no V [...]num Cos, the Whet­stone of his fortitude. Which done, Amasias thanking his goddesse for his entertainment, they both tooke their leave, as though they had lost their lives, especially Florinda, who often wringing him by the wrests, with her whitest handes kissed him as if her heart had desired to meete with his, and his soule to joyne with hers: and thence betaking her selfe into a window, like the fairest garden flowers, which behol­ding the departure of gladsome Phoebus to his purple bed, whose being, earst was their light and life, some hanging downe their heades as deprived of all pleasure, and others more erecting vp their loftie and leavie crests, strive to in­joy his sweete sight so farre as po [...]sible they may: so Florin­da now pearched aloft to possesse his beloved sight, as far as her watry eies could suffer, and now againe hung downe her head in her bofome, as not able to sustaine to behold his departure.

Now Amasias ever after was so wedded to the vaine sup­pose of pleasure, and delight, that his Peeres sorowed at the course of his vnbrideled follies, and his subjects groned not vnder the burden of his covetous desires, but were taxed with the griefe of his voluptuous appetite; for such was the incontinencie of his life, as sacietie of wanton affections never glutted his minde with content: but as the Serpent [Page 16] Hydaspis, the more he drinketh, the more he is a thirst, and as the Salamander, the more he lieth in the fire, the more de­sirous he is of the flame: so Am [...]sias the more hee offended in this intemperate concupiscence, the more his thoughts were addicted to the vice, insomuch as everie man did wish hee might fall headlong into the Centre of some deepe mis­fortune.

Wallowing thus in the selfe conceit of his wickednesse, his [...]ife Cl [...]odora, through over much impatience, not suf­ficiently commanding his constancie, or greatly modera­ting his affections, began palpably to feele extraordinary passions within her to be praedominant: For fond Affecti­on like a heady ruler, possessing the chiefest portion of her interests, over-ruled her more honest resolutions, at the en­tertainement of incestuous lust. Which when she most evi­dently perceived, for the better effecting of her purpose, manifested her griefe vnto a damsell, whom shee had brought w th her out of Lemnos, and in whose confidence she reposed much. Lucilla (for so was the maid named) be­ing vpon a day in her Mistris chamber, seeing that beyond measure she was melancholie, and that her health not a lit­tle impeached through sorrow, strained modesty, and with these words interrupted her mournings.

Ah Cleodora, more loved of me then mine owne life, and more deere vnto me then my selfe, would God I might be plagued with all earthly diseases, so I might see thee free from distresse: how can Luc [...]lla be without sorrow, to see Cleodora oppressed with sicknesse? how can she but sinke in calamitie, to see her but once touched with care? alas, vnfold vnto me thy sore, and I will adde the meanes to apply the salve; make me privie to thy malady, and I will procure a medecine. The regard which ever since my first being with you, I have had of your welfare, I had rather leave it to your consideration, then with the rehearsall of it, but wearie your patience. Which endevours of mine, if your Majestie shall recompence with advertisement of your griefe, I will not onely studie to procure your contentment by my industri­ous, [Page 17] resolutions, but my selfe also not a little satisfied, shall rest in great security. Alas (quoth the Queene) it is not vn­knowne, not only to vs, but to the whole Kingdome, how my Lord, seduced by the flattering allurements of strum­pets, hath not onely violated the law of our gods, in pro­phaning my nuptiall bed, made sacred by the holy law of matrimonie; but also the law of Cyprus, which vtterly for­biddeth such disorder and wanton actions. But sith in a Monarchie the wills of Princes may bide no checke, but their reasons (howsoever vnreasonable) are the principles that may not be infringed, it resteth onely for me to com­plaine, but not to redresse, lest venturing too farre, I set my rest on the hazard, and so desperately throw at all. What Madame, (answered Lucilla) have you no other cause to dis­quiet your selfe, then the foolish love of the King? Truely this is a very small occasion, and a cause more then frivo­lous, after this manner to vexe your selfe; remove away these dolorous passions, and endevour to live joyfully with those, amongst whom your reputation and credite shall be honou­rable: attending til Time shal coole his ardent desires, and enforce him to change his affections, with this proviso; that by vnlawfull acquaintance, your honour likewise be not depraved. Indeede, replyed the Queene, the whole can with facilitie minister counsell to them that are sicke; but if thou didst but feele that distemperature which permitteth me to take no rest in my minde, and the cause of the anguish that doth deprive me of sence, I am assured, that having pittie vpon me, thou wouldest otherwise comfort me, or else help to execute that, which should serve for the intire solace and contentment of my spirit. The King hath led this life a long time, and it is now impossible, but by death or extrea­mity of age, he should alter it: in the meane while, I passe my time away in vaine, no waies comforted, which maketh my griefe seeme more intolerable. Lucilla perceiving without casting of her water, where she was pained, shaped her this reply. For mine owne part Madam, as yet I never had ex­perience of what force Love is: and therefore ignorant of [Page 18] the disdaine and sorrow, which such as you are sustaine: yet neverthelesse I verily beleeve, that the passion both of the one and the other is so great and vnmeasurable, that the surplusage of the alterations that trouble and mole [...]t the spirit, is nothing in respect of this inexplicable distresse. But I behold and perceive the imbecility of humane minds, and how soone, through vnlawful desires, they are disqui­eted; which, with no lesse tranquilitie, are digested in the stomacke and thoughts, then the sea sands, when they are encountred with the tumultuous blasts of powerfull Bor [...]as. Ah Madam, where is the great chastitie that made you once more renowned then all the Ladies in Lemnos? I beseech you labour to containe your selfe in that honest estimation wherein hitherto you have lived, to the great content, both of your parents, and frends. But if Reason be curbd by in­continency, and that you deliberate to follow the vice of wantonnesse for the accomplishment of your desires, then by all meanes let diligent regard in such sort intimate secre­cy, that neither the house from whence you are descended, be dishonoured, nor your selfe merit infamy, or ignomini­ous punishment.

While they were thus talking, a page brought word that divers Ladies were come to visit the Queene, which caused them to sur [...]ease their talke. When the Ladies salutations were ended, and Cleod [...]ra againe left to her cogitations, she could not feele one minute of such ease as was requisite: for vn [...]essantly she rolled the stone with Sysiphus, turned the wheele with Ixion, and filled the bottomlesse tubbes with Belides: in so much, that when shee could finde no meanes to mittigate her maladie, shee fell into these bitter com­plaints.

Ah Cleodora, ah wretched Cleodora, how art thou without reason, which sufferest reason to yeelde vnto appetite, wise­dome to sensuall will, and a free minde vnto servile love: but I perceive when the Ivi [...] ris [...]th, it wreatheth about the El [...]e; when the Hop groweth hie, it hath neede of a poale; and when virgins waxe in yeares, they follow that which [Page 19] belongeth to their youth. Love, love, y [...]a but they love, ex­pecting some good hap, & alas, both love and live without all hope: for Eliosto is my sonne; and yet if he were not, he liketh not me. Sith then (Cleodora) thou art pinched, and hast none to pittie thy passions, dissemble thy affection, though it shorten thy life: For better it were to die with griefe, then to live with shame: The spunge is full of water, yet is not seene; the leafe of the tree Alpina, though it be wet, looks always dry; & a wise lover, be she never so much tor­mented, behaves herself; as thogh she were not toucht. Yea but fire cannot be hid in the flax without smoke, nor musk in the bosome without smell, nor love in the breast without suspicion. Then seeke some meanes to manifest thy love to Eliosto, for as the stone Draconites can by no means be po­lished, vnlesse the Lapidarie burne it; so thy mimd can by no medcine be cured, vnlesse Eliosto ease it.

Thus resolved without longer stay, she called vnto her, Lucilla her chiefe attendant, who from her infancie had bin brought vp with her. In this Lucilla, shee conceyved her greatest hope, vnto whom she said: Lucilla, since I had rea­son to discerne good from evill, thou knowest how I have tendered thee, and how willing I would be to seeke thy pre­ferment, make triall when thou please, so shalt thou be as­sured of that, which justly thou maist hold in suspence. But leaving these conjuring words, I must (Lucilla) commit vnto thy secrecies, a matter of import, whereon my honour and reputation dependeth: for I tell thee Lucilla, I have made choyse of thee amongst all those which I may commaund, as of her I love, and have best cause so to doe, having had such societie, else should I rather choose to die ten thousand deaths, then reveale it.

Luci [...]la which had her whole hope of good from the Queene, hearing her speeches, with teares standing in her eyes, proceeding of joy, for the honour done her by the Queene, protested vnto her by heavens Maker, and what else he framed, to be secret in her determinations, and doe her best endevour to accomplish whatsoever shee com­manded. [Page 20] Cleodora taking her word for currant, in whom she never found deceit, said: Lucilla, that it is incident to all creatures in their kind to love, I know thy wittes be not so simple, but thou canst conceive; and he that made vs, direc­teth our likings as best pleaseth him, be it Prince or Beggar, from the highest to the simplest: and he my Lucilla, hath linked my liking (albeit extraordinarily) to a most brav [...] Gentleman (on whom I think) if Affection, which is blind, deceive me not, is worthy to be favoured of the most beau­tifull. To keepe thee with idle speeches, is now no time, having other matters enow whereon wee must discourse; therefore, that thou mayst know to whom my love is inten­ded, Eliosto my sonne is he; Eliosto, famous for his valour, re­nowned for his bountie, and admired for his courtesie. He, he, Lucilla, is the joy of my heart, and my hearts sole delight, without whom I cannot live, nor I wil not live, neither may I live, such is the service which my heart hath vowed in love vnto him: therfore if thou love me as thou hast professd, by thy industrie seeke to save my life, which cannot but perish in not obtaining my desires.

Lucilla, listning to her discourse, willing to become se­cond in this tragedie, had her braines alreadie beaten in the search of the charge committed vnto her, yet would she not sodain [...]ly answer any thing, Considering how displeasing speeches spoken out of time, be to lovers, corasives: yet che­ring the Queene, she requested vntill the next morning re­spite for answer, which willingly she granted, affying great­ly in her, whose j [...]dgement above all others she esteemed most sound and perfect: whom to her studie we leave.

Eliosto, by reason of the affable countenance, and cour­teous vsage wherewith dayly she did gratifie him, had his intrailes so fried with the scorching flames of his metho [...]s beautie (O inspeakable wickednesse!) that his colour was ch [...]nged, and his stre [...]gth impaired, and he, through great griefe [...]nd extremity of his love, enforced to withdraw him­selfe into his Chamber, where casting himselfe on his bed, with a million of carefull thoughts, he determined to seeke [Page 21] her favour, and then, by contrary motions, fearing the successe of his suit, by reason of affinitie, which might give cause of great dislike and disparagement thereof, said:

Ah thrice vnfortunate Eliosto, what strange fits be these that burne thee with heate, and yet thou shakest with cold? thy bo­dy in a shivering sweate, and in a flaming ice, melting like wax, and yet as hard as Ada [...]ant: Is it love? then woulde it were death, for likeher it is thou shalt loose thy life, then win thy Love. Ah ha [...]lesse Cleodora! would to God thy vertues were lesse then thy beautie, or my vertues greater then my affecti­ons; so should I either quickly free my selfe from fancie, or be lesse subject vnto folly. But alas, I feele in my mind fierce sk [...]rmishes betweene Reason and Appetite, Love and Wis­dome, Dang [...]r and Desire; the one perswaded him to hate the Queene, becaus [...] his fathers wife, the other constrained him to love her as a friend. If I consent to the first, I end my dayes with death; if to the last, I shall leade my life with infa­mie. What shall I then do? Ah Eliosto, either swallow the juyce of Mandrake, which may cast thee into a dead sleepe, or chew the hearbe Carysium, which may cause thee to hate everie thing; so eyther shalt thou die in thy slumber, or dislike Cleodora by thy potion. Tush, what follies are these? Wil [...] thou with the Woolfe barke at the Moone, or with the yong Gr [...]phons peck against the starres? Thinkst thou to quench fire with a sword▪ or with affection to mortify love? No, no, if thou be wise, suffer not the grasse to be cut from vnder thy feete, strike while the yron is hote, make thy market while the chaffer is to sa [...]e.

Eliosto b [...]ing thus resolute in his opinion, began to cast be­yond the Moone, and to frame a [...] devises in his h [...]ad to bring his purpose to passe, fearing everie shadow, doubting everie winde, stumbling at the least straw; yet at the last pric­ked forward by fancie, he purposed not to omit the least oc­casion, which he thought would redound to his content. For­tune, who had long spurned at him with her foote, gave him this oportunitie to raise him, whom she had like to have over­throwne, chaunci [...]g to looke out at a window [...]hich opened [Page 22] into a Parke belonging to the Court, he espied the Queene, pleasantly passing away the time with her traine of Ladies, which oportunitie he was not wil [...]ing to loose, but with all such speed as his faint legs could make, revived by the sight of his sweete chase, with all sayles spread, in short time hee recovered his wished desire, who was no sooner of Cleodora seene, his humble dutie done, and she having requited the same, giving him the time of the day, with a most pleasant and friendly countenance, she chalenged him of negligence, whom in two or three dayes shee had not seene, and leading him politikely, pretending matter of importance, to impart vnto him, from the companie, she broight him neare the side of a faire copesse, which so overshadowed them, that the Sunne beames could no waies be offensive vnto them, where they might both bold­ly say whatsoever it pleased them, without being heard or seene of any, whose presence might interrupt their conference, which caused her to take oportunitie to discusse with him thus.

Sonne (quoth she) I pray thee say, of the dutie which thou hast vowed me, and by those sweete thoughts which are best pleasing vnto thee, what is the Ladie to whom thou hast de­dicated thy love? For love doubtlesse thou doost, thy coun­tenance bewrayeth it, which I have noted with more regard then becommeth mee; yet of care to thee whose health I ten­der, for thy courtesie and good service done, which I would re­quite in the best maner I might; and for because thy lookes shew that thy heart craveth to be pitied of thy Ladie, let mee know her, who may chance stand thee in some stead; for wo­men may prevaile much with one another.

Eliosto wrapt into a heaven of joyes, hearing the goddesse of his devotion, with such favour and kindnesse to grace him, with a blushing countenance standing at the barre before her, whose sentence p [...]onounced, was either li [...]e or death, sayde. Honourable and gracious Madame, That I love I cannot de­nie, which argueth your skill in phisicke to be great; but if your highnesse could iudge whose love I most adore, and love have, and judging, ease me, I should have cause to say, no Aesculapius on the earth whatsoever, might stand in comparison with you [Page 23] for skill: I dare say no more, fearing to offend.

The Queene all this while gazed on the perfection of her Sonne, as deeply enamored on his feature, as he inveagled with hers; for her eye made a generall survey of his excellent pro­portion, which she found more exquisite, by how much the more she had bent her liking to love him.

Thus Affection which had assailed both their hearts, indu­ed them with such a sympathy of content, beholding them­selves all alone, that with overmuch joy, they were stricken mute, so that how much soever [...]heir hearts desired, to let each other know their loves, they could not reveale the same. In this heaven of happinesse they had not long been, but a Ladie that attended the Queene, brought her word the King was com­ming into the Parke, which place hee had chosen to recreate himselfe, where resting on a hill that over-peered the great Mediterrane [...]m, hee noted how Phoebus fetched his Lauoltos on the Purple plaines of Neptunus, as if he had meant to have courted Thetis in the royaltie of his Robes, the Dolphins ( [...]he sweete conceitors of Musicke) fetcht their carreers on [...]he cal­med waves, as if Arion had touched the strings of his silver­sounding Instrument: the Mermaides thrusting their h [...]ades from the bosome of Amph [...]rite, sate on the mounting banks of Neptu [...]e, drying their watrie tresses in the Sun-beames: hee marked likewise howe A [...]olus forbore to throw abroad his guests on the slumbring browes of the Sea-god, as giving Tri­ton leave to pleasure his Queen with desired melodie, and Pro­teus l [...]bertie to follow his flockes without disquiet. Amasias loo­king over the champain of Cyprus, to see if the continent were as full of smiles as the Seas were of favours, saw the shrubs as in a dreame with delightfull harmonie, and the birds that chan­ [...]ed on their branches, not disturbed with the least breath of a favourable Zephyrus. Seeing thus the accord of the land and sea, casting a fresh gaze on the water Nymphes, hee began to consider how Venus was faigned by the Poets, to spring of the froth of the seas, which drave him strait into a deepe con­jecture of the inconstancy of love, that as if Luna were his load­starre, it had everie minute ebbes and tides, somtime overflow­ing [Page 24] the banks of Fortune with a gracious looke, lightned from the eyes of a favourable lover, otherwhiles ebbing to the dan­gerous shelfe of de [...]paire, with the piercing frowne of a fro­ward Mistresse.

By this time nights duskie mantle shadowing the earth with a darksome coverture, had bewrayed heavens disguise, and the twinckling starres, whose sight the Sunnes brightnesse doth in the day time obscure, did now plainly appeare, while Phoebus reposing in his Palace, waited the dewie-vprising of Aurora, so that the King was for that time constrained to desist his walke. In the meane time, Eliosto, whose extreames were vehe­ment, after his abrupt parting with his mother, grew so melan­choly, as that nothing was able to delight him: so that in out­ragious maner, he exclaimed on his misfortune, cursing the ty­dings bringer of the Kings repaire to the Park, and his tongue, for not revealing his griefe, his Physition being so readie to heare, that despairing of his hope, he was likely to mischiefe himselfe: yet Reason affirming,That the learnedst Phisition could not discover the disease of his patient, without he shew it, how neare soever he ghesse. Entring further into conside­ration of her favourable speaches, shaking off feare, like a har­die Souldier, he determined in writing to let her know his love, since he had no hope to meet her againe at the like advantage. Therefore, like the condemned, hoping of pardon, lived Eliosto; yet desirous to be resolved, either of comfort, or despaire, he cal­led for pen and ynke, and wrote thus.

What man living hath either heard or read of such sensuall and incontinent designes? such libidinous, and incestuous affection? Thou Hyppolite, for not yeelding to the lust of Phae­dra thy Stepmother, wast through her false accusation, by thy father, pursued, till the Chario [...] wherein thou fleddest, brake, and thou miserably among the sharpe stones rent to peeces: but by thy fall, thou hast preserved thy name from blacke mouthed infamie, who onely is delighted with her brazen Trumpet, to sound the harsh tunes of our foule defame: as for thee Elios [...]o, whom the Fates likewise have reserved to perpetuitie, must with thy licencious Phaedra, abide continual­ly the detestable brand of vnspeakable ignominie. But I di­gresse.

When he had ended these lines, sealed and directed the same, he could not find by many devises which hee sought, how it should be brought to his mothers hands: at length, after ma­ny and sundry wayes invented, this was thought best: calling to mind Lucil [...]a the Queenes Maid, which he often noted to be in some regard with her, determined to procure her, either for courtesie, or reward, to deliver it. And verie early in the morning, as soone as he could get readie, addressed himselfe to [Page 26] the Court, attending the comming of his mother thither, as she vsually did: but vnhappie El [...]osto, it [...]ell not out so well with him that day; for the Quee [...]e distempered in her thoughts, had her mind so much on loue, as she en [...]oyed no sleepe by night, nor content by day, so that she was enforced with weaknesse to keepe her Chamber, to the great discomfort and griefe of all the Ladies. But Cupid which is alwayes benigne to them that serve him, brought him this pleasure. It fortuned that Lu­cilla, with whom Eliostoes chief desire was to have some speech, passed into the Garden, either to walke, or for some occasion of the Queenes (I know not whether) whom he followed with a fear [...]full countenance, more like a novice in Loves schoole, then any way skilfull in such enterprises: yet whet [...]ed on by the hopes which his heart conceyved, he saluted the Gentle­woman, who was not a little abashed to see the Prince so neare her, nor could she iudge any cause of his comming vnto her.

Lucilla being willing to heare what he would say, with a face blushing, shewing a kind countenance, she enquired of his health, with other ordinarie prattle: vnto which hee answered, and returning her many thanks, said; Mistresse Lucilla, though my deserts have never merited favour at your hands, yet let me crave your furtherance in a sute, for that I heare my mother is weake, and not willing to bee troubled, so that I cannot attaine vnto hir speech; and besides, my businesse of importance, com­pelleth me very shortly to leave the Court, to deliver this Let­ter into her owne hands, and at your leysure to returne me such answer, as she shall please to deliver: in doing, which you shal both do me a favour of great esteeme, and cause me her ea [...]ter, not to wound this your kindnes with oblivion.

The Gentlewoman which did know where the Queenes shooe did wring her, began immediatly to coniecture his dis­ease, and to shoot [...] at that which indeed she hit without any great aime, supposing the Prince to be wounded with like af­fection, was glad to become so happie a Messenger to her, who could willingly vouchsafe him as partner of her best for­tunes; yet making a kind deniall, she said: Sir, though I could [Page 27] willingly doe you more service then modestie will I acquaint you with; yet it is not the part of our Country Gentlemen, to make poasts of women, having Pages fit for that purpose: if I refuse your request, attribute it to no discourtesie in me, which am verie loath to offend her h [...]ghnesse, not knowing whether the sentence of your Paper may breed any discontent or no. That many Messengers have incurred displeasure, yea, and losse of life, as the cause hath deserved, I hope it is not vn­knowne vnto you, yet hath the harmlesse bearer known [...] as little what he carried, as I desirous to know of you.

Sweet Lucilla (quoth the Prince) that it is wisdome by others harmes to beware, I denie not; yet notwithstanding, it is discourtesie, not to fulfill the request of a Gentleman, which hath evermore shewed himselfe most dutifull vnto her Maiestie: can I therfore frame my heart to preiudice that La­die of incomparable vertue? No, no, heavens never permit me life, if in the least thought I once offend her.

Lucilla, noting by the often change of his colour, in telling his tale, that his heart was not his owne, but had some more bu­sinesse in hand then willingly he would reveale, loath to move his patience by her deniall, answered: Sir, perswading my self of your loyaltie, I will for this time become your Embassador, although it should impaire my credite with her Excellence, whose favour I hold as deare as my life: and that you shall as­sure your selfe of my fidelitie herein, if you please to meete me in this place to morrow, by that time the Suns power shal have drawne the deaw from off the earth, I shall returne you answer as you desire.

Thankes, good Lucilla, for thy courtesie, assure your selfe I will not die in your debt, if ever Eliosto may requite it by any industrie. In the meane time (quoth he) favour me so highly, as weare this for my sake: and pulling off a Diamond of great price, gave it her, which she was loa [...]h to accept; yet gi­ving him thanks for his kindnesse, replied. Sir, I prize not my paines, that you should reward me with hire, or do you good, in hope of benefi [...]e: for as it is vnfitting a Gentlewoman to take gif [...]s in such m [...]ner bestowed; so is it discourtesie, and no [Page 28] part of womanlike condition, to reiect the gift of a friend, therefore accept my thanks vntill such time I shall better de­serve it.

Thus time passing away, Lucilla taking her leave, went to­wards the Queens Chamber, and Eliosto to his lodging, where ministring fuell vnto his follie, hee began in his imaginations most strangely to be perplexed; for his propheticke soule layd downe before him, both the enormitie of the fact, and the con­digne punishment, which alwayes accompanieth such a crime: yet notwithstanding he was so blind with outragious lust, as that no such sacred s [...]ppositions were of force sufficient to re­claime him from his intended resolution: Vnto which I leave him.

Lucilla seriously bethinking her selfe of these rare and ab­hominable accidents, thought good since they were commit­ted vnto her secrecie, to smoother them vp in silence, lest by their detection, both their safeties vtterly might be ruinated. Vpon this she came into the Queenes presence, where being of her perceyved, shee was demaunded where shee had spent the time so long from hir, knowing that all her attendants, be­sides her selfe, were combersome. Madame, having beene to search some daintie that might yeeld delight to your weake stomacke, and cause better disgesture, by chance prying in the garden for such things, I was encountred by the best Phisition in the Dominion of Cyprus, who gave me a receipt, which I judge by my simple skill, will give your Majestie great ease, yet doth the man doubt whether your stomacke will disgest it, yea or no: this (gracious Ladie quoth Lucilla) hath beene the cause of my absence, and no other. Alas, good wench, how am I be­holding vnto thee, that regarding my health, searchest the depth of thy skill! but, Lucilla, in vaine seekest thou her re­dresse, which no Phisition with all his hearbs, drugs, and sim­ples, balmes, emplaisters, or what Art may provide, can reme­die, the gods only by their grace must finish my desires, or give evidence, that life hath left within me the due possession of her field. What Madame, ever in this tune? once alter these dis­cords, which maketh your Musicke jarre, and sing the beleefe [Page 29] with a cheerefull voice, so may your minde be a little eased, and the receipt I have to minister, worke with the more effect: I speake this of experience; for everie cunning Phisition will prepare the body of his patient before he minister any thing; therefore if you will shake off this melancholie, you shall have a taste of what I promise, if not, your Grace must pardon mee: it were great pity so precious a thing should be cast away. Wel (quoth Cleodora,) thou art disposed to crosse me with thy wordes, which in yeelding small comfort, do nothing else but aggravate my disease: therefore leaving these jeasts, tell mee if thou hast aught will doe me good, if not, vse me no more thus vnkindly, lest vanquished with the extremitie of my griefe, I chance to say that with my tongue which my heart will repent, or exercise my hands in such severitie, as shall not beseeme my person. The Gentlewoman seeing the wind blow so warme, at the view of the Queenes impacience, feared as much as shee promised, thought not good above her strength to moove her; for women being by nature hot, vpon small occasions, oft times become vnreasonable: wherefore making a pre­amble to her discourse, like an eloquent Orator began thus. (E­liosto) with that word, making a long pause, to note her counte­nance, on the sodaine naming her beloved, was thus interrup­ted. Eliosto, Lucilla? What frantike humor in this maner cau­seth thee to nominate him, with whom as yet thou never hadst any conference? Madame (said the Gentlewoman) [...] the rest, before you either dislike or commend me; then proceede quoth the Queene.

This Eliosto (as I am credibly informed) loveth a Ladie, but whom I know not, and as a dear friend of his certified me, is so tormented in his passions, that the night naturally ordained for rest, (restlesse) he consumeth in great discontent; the day wherein all creatures delight, is vnto him loathsome, insomuch that through watching, and refusing his diet, his lovely visage, from the sanguine is altered into the yellow coloured saffron; yea, Madame, these mine eyes are witnesses of it, who this day saw him passe into the Court so feeble, that his weake legges could hardly support the weight of his bodie.

[Page 30]No more of this Lucilla, lest thy tongue busied too long on this tragedie, I in the meane time be compelled to seeke an end of my torments, by dispatching mine owne life. Is this thy comfortable confection? Is this the reliefe thou preachest of, which would yeeld me such quiet of minde? Why should I live to see another enioy my loue? have I made choise of him, and shall another, no wayes worthie of him, enioy my [...]elicitie? Peace Cleodora, whither rovest thou? let reason subdue rage, let not every one be privie to thy incestuous love, but conceale it as thou maist, and seeke some secret device, by death, which is the best remedie to give contentation to thy heart. But hear­ken Lucilla, that thou mayest in time, when my bodie shall be intombed among the dead, report vnto my sonne, how deare I held his love, as my countenance often shewed, though hee carelesse of Loves toyes, never regarded it; do but this for me, by his frind to learne the Ladies name, with whom Eliosto is so inthralled: this is all the service that ever I will exact of thee, that knowing her, I may become an intercessor for him, whom my heart more desireth then all the worlds possessions: With this, tears which trickled downe from her opticke instruments, restrained her tongue.

In which sorrowfull passion, her Maiden became a part­ner, and grieved for her follie (which indeed was none) com­mitting so heynous a fault in procuring the same, excused her selfe in this manner.

How much I grieve to see you so discomforted, I cannot tell, but relying vpon the hope of your graces free pardon, if you vouchsafe to peruse this Letter, you shall know what shee is with whom your sonne is so strangely affected. This Letter I received at his hands, who hearing of your disquiet, desirous (as it should seeme) to acknowledge his dutie, coniured me by many faire words, and proffers of kindnesse, to deliver it vnto your selfe; which albeit for modestie I did long refuse, thrusting that from me with my finger, which I would willingly have drawne vnto me with all my bodie: in the end, I consented, and the rather, for your Ladiships quiet, which as I suppose, will bid it welcome for the masters sake; who, if my iudgement in [Page 31] the Planet Venus deceive me not, will proove shortly a most rare coniunction, or I will never trust my skill againe: for Venus being in the signe of Leo, hath domination over both ho [...]ses, viz. He and Shee, or He and You.

The Queene when shee heard Luci [...]aes tale, voide of all hope to obtain hir beloved Eliosto, after she had awhile pawsd, as one at length awaked from her memento, asfrom a sleepe, an­swered. Now trust me, thou hast cunningly gone about the bush, and hast daintily sought to enter into my deepest secrets: yet how subtilly soever you haue practised the matter, there may bee a quidditie to deceive both thee and him: but I pray thee tell me what speeches vsed he at the deliverie thereof.

The despairing Prince (good Madame) for so I must call him, howsoever (as it is reported) his valour most worthily shewes it sel [...]e in field, yet in affection he is most timerous and fearfull, in that not daring to reveale the sum of his desires, must commit it to a tell-tale Paper, languishing to the death, wan­ting his delight, and by silence prolonging his so [...]rowes, his lookes declaring more then in wordes he is able to v [...]ter. For [...]e that not long since had seene his beautie and gallant grace, the agillitie of his bodie, and noted everie particular lineament shall now through the pusillanimitie of his minde, see a meta­morphosis, which may moove the most adamantine heart to compassion, the cause to me vnknowne, but yet suspected. The assurance I doubt not but your Grace will soone vnderstand, if you daine to teare the Seale, and peruse the Contents.

Cleodora, which thought everie minute a yeare till shee had knowledge of her sons mind, put her maiden from her pra [...]tle, with a fained message; when being all alone, with a number of dolorous sighes for the Princes perplexitie, she read, and many times [...]ead those lines which gave her first comfort of enioying her hearts content. How welcome they were vnto her, it may better be imagin'd then by me explaned, whose head was who­ly imployed in answering the same; for which she thought it not vnfit to vse the helpe of Lucilla: wherefore resting from her former studies vntill her maide came, we leave her to the con­templation of her Love.

[Page 32] Luci [...]la having dispatched her Mistresse message, repaired into the Garden, where the consideration of the miserable e­state of those two lovers presented vnto her minde a consused Chaos of vncouth and disquieted passions; so that sitting in an Arbor, she fell into these [...]ermes. Lucilla, thou seest no phisick prevailes against the gaze of the Basiliske; no charme against the sting of the Tarantula, no prevention to divert the de [...]ree of the Fates; nor no meanes to recall backe the balefull hurt of Fortune:Incurable sores are without Avicens Aphorismes, and therefore no salve for them but patience. Then Lucilla say with Solon, Craesus is not happie before his death; confesse with Saladine King of Egypt, that the prosperous successe of Policrates prognosticated some dire event, that Fortune standeth vpon the weathercocke of Time, constant in no­thing but Inconstancie: for I see well, that to assigne happi­nesse to him that lives (considering the alteration that Time and Fortune presents with sundrie stratagems) is to allot the reward of victorie before the b [...]ttaile be fought. The grea­test mise [...]ie of all, sayth Byas, is not to beare miserie; and that man is most happie (quoth Dyonisius) that from his youth hath learned to be vnhappie. Demetrius surnamed the Besie­ger, iudged none more vnhappie then he which never tasted of adversitie: for that Fortune accounts of them as abiects and vassails of dishonor, whom she presents not, as wel with bitter pils, as sweete potions. Alluding to that saying of Plu­tarch, that noth ng is Evill that is Necessarie, vnderstanding by this word Necessarie, whatsoever commeth to a wiseman by fatall Destinie; because vsing patience in necessitie, he gi­veth a greater glorie vnto vertue. Although these secret meditations were perswasions vnto quiet, yet she no sooner cast her eye to the Queenes lodging, but she was overcharged with melancholy: to avoide which, taking her needle in her hand she fell to worke, and hearing the pretti [...] birds recorde their sweet and pleasant notes, she warbled out this Madrigall,

Lucilla had no sooner ended hir Madrigale when th'aire on a sodaine was changed with thunders, and stormy tem­pests, for that she was forced, through the feare of the light­ning, to withdraw herselfe into the Court, who entring the Queenes chamber, found her newly awakened from sleep, with a more reuiued colour then before, vnto whome the Queene thus spoke. Since thy being with mee, I had a [Page 34] dreame, that held me all the time of my sleepe, the remem­brance wherof doth trouble me very much, which as neere as I can remember, I will tell thee. Me I thought was going through a thicke wood, where were a number of nettes and snares layde in euery path where should I passe, yet me thought I passed through them so easily, as if they had bin of no strength; til at last I came toward a great water, where neere vnto the shoare lay a great boate, and from the boate lay a long line, made al of gold and pearle; within the com­passe whereof, treading ere I was aware, mee thought some thing gaue a snatch, wherewith the line whipt about my middle, and carried me into the boate; with the soddaine fright whereof I awaked. Now what sayest thou to this dreame? Lucilla, no lesse wittily conceipted of her dreame, then noting the carriage of her humour, made her this aun­swer. Madame, if a blinde body may catch a Hare, I may happen to come somwhat neere the exposition of this your fancie. The wood you went in, is the Court, the nettes, the eyes and tongues of your well-willers that haue no power to take sure hold of your affectiō; now the great water may be the sea, and the golden Line the yong Prince, that may cary your deuotion from his father: for if I be not much de­ceiued, he hath you by the hart, whatsoeuer it was that held you by the middle. Vnhappy wench (quoth Cleodora) thou commest too neere, that hittest the marke so right; but yet maist thou be deceiu'd in one point, thogh not in fom other; I haue passed the nets, that true; and I am caught, it is not vntrue, but that he either wil, or shall cancell my loue to the King, that I feare will not fall out. But the Gods know all, to whom only will I leaue it; Foes may be friends, and kindnes where it lighteth, doth more than all the worlde besides. His presence may please the purest eye, and for his wit, I heard my Lord wonder at it; for his bountie, our Court speaketh of it, and for his vertue, who dooth not see it? But for his loue, happy is shee that shall enioy it, for princely wisedome, with honourable bountie, shewes a diuine spirite in an excellent nature, and of such a temper I [Page 35] holde him, and for such a one I loue him, and will euer honour him, though I haue neuer the fruition of my de­sires. But leauing this, I pray thee tell mee, what saide my sonne when he deliuered these letters vnto thee? Ma­dame, to say trueth, nothing touching his loue▪ but im­portuned with such earnestnesse, for the presenting of them vnto your handes, as might haue made many prowd to doe so charitable a deede, crauing it with wordes so pit­tifull, and lookes so ruthfull. For mine owne parte, my heart imagining by your affection, that the destinies which caused your griefe, had fettered him, and well knowing where loue is vnited, there ones weale is the others good: though I were hardly wonne to the same, yet at length I vndertooke the hazard of your good wil, promising to re­turne him an answer thereof, wherein, without the graunt of your consent I shall breake promise. Oh Lucilla, doubt­est thou of my consent in answering his kinde Letters, for whose sake I haue indured so many nights of vnrest, and carefull dayes? No Heauens, neuer fauour me with good, if I doe not paralell his affection to the vtmost of my pow­er. Therefore, as thou hast played the aduocate, so make I thee my principal and chiefe Secretary; peruse these lines, and in equitie consider if that his wound deserue not to be tented with pittie; then let mee see thy skill in inditing, to the which thou shalt haue my helpe. Prorogue no longer the time, hunger is a sharpe sawce to those that haue good stomackes, and I measuring his desires by mine owne, ima­gine that meate can not be more pleasing to the hungry, then the vnexspected tydings of consent, from his new ac­knowledged Loue. Soft fire Madam (said Lucilla) makes the sweetst mault, say our huswiues: You are far wide; what! no sooner at the stile, but ouer; h [...]ste maks waste, looke before you leape, lest a blocke vnthoght of chance to breake your shinnes. What if these letters impart his loue, how are you thereof assured? men are subtile, & can cast many colors to deceiue women; al is not gold that glisters, vnder the gree­nest grasse lurks the poisoned adder, the crocodile sheades [Page 36] most teares, when he seeketh most to deceiue: Trie ere you trust Madam▪ repentan [...]e comes too late; therefore, how­soeuer you affect him, conceale it, lightly wonne, is as light­ly lost. The Laborer that gameth his mony by hard toile, is more chary in parting therewith, than the purloyning thiefe, or the riotous youth, which by subtill practises dra­weth all he can from his kinde parents, to maintaine his dis­solute expences, Let him bite on the bridle a while, yet gently line his curbe that he g [...]ll not: a little thing pleaseth a childe, and a good countenaunce is wo [...]rth golde to him that regardeth it as he professeth: weigh your owne estate, who is Queene of Cyprus and his mother, with the basenes of the fact: consider what a corrasiue this loue of yours wil be to the king, and if once discouered, with what detestati­on amongst all men you shall liue. I speake this for the dis­paragement (if it be possible) of his loue, and to draw your liking from him; if otherwise, in such sort to temper your affection, that to both your contents you may long enioy it; and besides, so moderate your lookes, that neyther the lightnesse, nor the liberall bestowing thereof may mini­ster to the iealous heads any occasion of mistrust. For prin­ces are great markes, vpon whom many eyes are intended: If therefore you are once perceiued, what perill either part may procure, your wisedom can best conceiue. Thus in du­tie haue I spoken, and deliuered a grosse aduise, which I re­ferre to your graces better consideration. Well hast thou said (quoth the Queene:) but what auaileth counc [...]ll to a desperate minde? No more than he that seeking to quench the flame, powreth thereinto, oyle: Thy good regard hath so ballaunced each inconuenience incident to both our e­states, that by no meanes I am able to requite the speciali­tie of thy good will. Now if thou canst aswell deuise howe we may enjoy our delight, without which wee perplexed can not long endure, what is it that Cleodora shall euer be mistres [...]e of, which Lucilla shall not haue at her commaund? Then, as thou tenderest my good, bethink thee of some re­medy; for such is my love vnto him, as that nothing may [Page 37] extinguish it. Shal I then by writing answer his leters, or no? In this I will be ruled by thee, how gladly soeuer I wish his comfort, in whome of all earthly creatures, consisteth my happinesse. Experience is the best wisedome (saide Lu­cilla:) who would euer haue beleeued Loues power to be of such effect, how imperious soeuer he seemed, had the vi­olence of this attempt in silence beene obfuscated! but I am thereby compelled to recant my heresie, and say, Loue is a god, or how is it possib [...]e hee should commaund Prin­ces? Whereas you haue referred the answer of Eliostoes let­ters to me, I was neuer so voyde of reason, or so desirous to be your Counsellor, as to take so great a matter vppon me, yet shall I (so please it you to heare me) deliuer my simple opinion, as I would doe my selfe in the like action. The olde wiues say, That they which feede with the diuell, must haue a long spoone: and they that goe about to maister Loue, had neede of many good and sufficient pre­cepts: Disswade your grace (since I am not able) I will not, for I see it is in vaine; neither would I wish you to giue him his answer by writing; for a paper is soone lost, and lost, vnto whose finding it shal come, it is altogether vncertaine; as soone the enuious ennemie, as the well-willer may haue the perusall thereof; in which, some word, simply meant of you or me, may be, by them, at their pleasure construed: whereby▪ both a slaunder (which is not easily suppressed) may be raised, and your name brought into question: Wri­ting is a thing whereof the subtill Lawyer takes no small aduantage. To auoyde all which casualties, this may you doe, pretend some matter of conference with him, and ap­poynt the time, when he at your lodging shall attend you; whither comming secretly, and at such a season, as the king your husband shalbe employed in serious affaires, you may vse your speech at your pleasure: This would Lucilla doe, your grace may vse your discretion. I like thy deuise well (quoth Cleodora) therefore faile not to meete him for thy promise sake. Now in faith Madam (said Lucilla) you haue made a good choise for a sollicitor; but take me as I am, this [Page 38] is the first suite, for which I euer was retained, and I doubt not (if I now speed well) of many cliants. As they were thus pleasant betweene themselues, they heard, which caused the Queene to send forth her page for the enquirie of the matter; who returned her answer, that the King with his traine, were setting forward to hunt a wild Boare which his Forresters had roused: this newes gaue them cause of ioy, hoping that fortune had fauoured them with a happie time, which doubting the like opportunitie, they were loath to omit. Cleodora especially, who could not be quieted in minde, vntill shee had heard of the Princes answer; wherefore a Page was presently commanded to search for him, willing him with such conuenient speed as he could, to meete Lucilla in the garden: the Page vsed such diligence, that speedily he was brought vnto his presence, whom he found solitarie (as a holy father) at his Orizons; whom the Page awaked with his ioyfull message, which was, (albeit doubtfull whether of weale or woe) most wel­come vnto him. The suddaine hearing of which, caused him to pause a while, when hauing determined, courteously re­turned answer to the gentlewoman, that he would inconti­nently attend her. The boy he so bounteously rewarded, as that he had cause to boast himselfe of his well emploied ser­uice. Lucilla hauing receiued his answer, aduertised the Qu. thereof; who commanded her to haste, least by her absence she should giue him cause of discontēt: but for al her speed, Eliosto was long there before, attending her comming, who was no sooner of him perceiued to enter the place, but his heart presaging some good hap, was thence more deligh­ted, then at al the motions that euer could be imagined. Af­ter his courteous salutations done, he encontred her thus. Sweet Lucilla, I know not what to imagine of thy suddaine message, yet willing to bee resolued, as one that by thy an­swer expecteth his doome either of life or death, I attend thy pleasure: say therfore, what saith the Queene to my let­ters? Lucilla purposing to be pleasant, yet not to cloy his sto­macke with such pleasant confections, that there with hee [Page 39] should surfet, but framing her countenance to her speech, shee tould him, that of all the gentlemen in the Cyprian Court, her good opinion was such of him, that vpon his word, shee thought shee might haue hazarded her greatest credit, which expectation of mine being deceiued. Thou art not worthy (quoth shee) to bee accounted among such ho­norable men at armes, which deeme their chiefest reputati­on to consist in the perseuerance of their word to gentle­women. At the deliuery of which, hee that had viewed the Princes countenance, might haue supposed him to haue bin past Physicks recouerie: and withal, standing so mute, Lu­cilla was verely perswaded, that he was ready to deliuer his lifes interest, which made her in altering her words, with a smoother methode to file them; suspecting that her Come­die begunne in mirth, might prooue (to the great griefe of the whole countrie, who generally honoured him) a dismal Tragedie. Wherefore taking him by the hand, shee said; Sir, I am sorie I haue charged you so farre, but it is woman­like to be slaine with words, and for one of your calling no fit Passion, in such sort to be vanquished. That you may comfort your selfe, I first pardon the offence against mee committed, and enioine you, as you tender your credit with the Queene, to repaire at such conuenient time to her lodg­ing, as you can best: which if you performe, the messenger wil be excused. Oh Lucilla, how haue thy speeches tormen­ted me, filling my entrailes with such a confusion of com­fortlesse thoughts, as haue ouercome my sences! Yet if thou haue any sparke of gentilitie abiding within thee, informe me how the Queene did countenance my bashfull paper: vouchsafed she the reading of them? What else (quoth she) for to discomfort you any longer it were pittie, beeing al­ready at so low a datum, which not a litle troubles me. Com­fort I can giue none to thy desires, but this, thy suite is loue, as your letters import, in which (albeit vnlawful) despaire not: for thy mother is a woman, though a Qu & how com­passionate our sexe is, I will not boast, but wish thee not to diffide; for (since it is ineuitable) I wil be a faithful solicitor. [Page 40] Mis-take me [...] not Eliosto, I speake as a friend, and so leaue thee, vntill thy comming to my Lady, which detract not, for time lost▪ is such a pretious thing, as that it can againe ne­uer be recalled Before whom, when thou shalt come, plead thine owne cause, and discouer thine owne griefe; but with this caution, alwaies thinke that whatsoeuer you goe about, your aduersaries eies to be fixed, ready to take any excep­tions which may blemish the lustre of your esti [...]ation.

Eliosto, which by these her last words had some greater hope of his content, was so surprised with ioy, that he could not bidde her farewell: yet after his memento past, farewell (quoth hee) the faithfullest friend that euer I found in my distresse. Oh Lucilla, happie maist thou be in thy loues, and highly regarded amongst men, by whom my cares are thus lightened: trustie Lucilla, the worker of my hearts happie content, by whom, past all hope, I am by thy fidelitie and trueth in deliuering my message, freed from such a heauie burden, which was likely to haue beene my vtter ruine. Thus applauding Lucilla, hee had almost forgotten his word.

But leauing further to descant vpon this plaine song, re­turne we to the Queene, who was aduertised by her wo­man of that which had passed between the Prince and her, not omitting his heauie lookes, and pittifull speeches. And then againe, as glad to please the Queene, whom shee was assured loued him, spared not at large to set out his honours gained, his comelinesse of person, [...] and whatsoeuer else the world admired in him, shee admirably aduanced, to the greatest content of Cleodora, who thought euery minute a yeare vntill shee saw him, whom with heartie desire ar­dently shee expected: and with that looking out at the case­ment, shee might espie her beloued sonne: what ioy it cau­sed, let them iudge which haue made better experience in louers delights.

The Queene hauing the sight of her so long desired ob­iect, sent Lucilla to entertaine him, and to conduct him vn­to her presence. Cleodora staying to frame her countenance [Page 41] for his welcome, bethought her selfe of sundry meanes; e [...]t­soones, doubting by hir too pleasant and kinde vsage, to be held too forward in loue, than what discontent her lowr­ing aspects might mooue vnto him, whom she most desired to please. In this quandary, sitting vppon a pallet, and leaning her head on her pillowe, Lucilla had brought the Prince in, who doing his duty very feebly (for the remem­brance of his attempt had astonisht him) was by the queen againe saluted, attending like the guiltie condemned, his sentence from her mouth, which was to giue him either life or death. Eliosto thus at a non plus, ouercome with the be­holding of her excellent perfection, was by her, the mirror of affabilitie and courtesie, remooued out of his dumpes in this maner. Eliosto, whether I should chastice thy presump­tion in writing to me so bold [...]ly, or no, I am not yet resol­ued; but before I acquainted my Lord therewith, I thought good to heare thee speake (for that I would not so sodainly disgrace thee, whome so often I haue fauoured) as well to heare thy intent in committing so great a foly, as what thou canst say in excuse thereof. Princes are not to be ieasted with, nor in such maner by their kinred to be assailed; ther­fore thou hast greatly erred in that which is committed, & incurred the danger of our chiefest lawes, by which, were thy fact knowne, thou art already condemned. The prince standing at the barre, where Beautie sate chiefe iudge, was surprised with many griefes, so that hardly he could vtter a word: yet reuiued by the hope of those comfortable and sweete sayings pronounced by Lucilla, hee shaped her this reply. Gratious Lady, in that I haue presumed fa [...]e, I [...]an not but acknowledge; yet that I haue incurred such pu­nishment as your Highnes [...]e would i [...]flict vpon me, I de­nie, vnlesse death be the guerdon assigned the saithfull; for duetifull seruice, and entire affection vrged me to seekethy fauor in loue, without the which I cannot liue, so deepely are thy vertuous perfections imprinted in my heart, which if Ienioy not, I desire no longer to breathe. Therefore ma­dam, if thou disdaine his loue, that liuing dieth continually [Page 42] for thee: doe but say the word, and this blade, so often em­brued in the blood of [...] enemies, shall sacrifice his ma­sters owne true heart before thy face, that thy cruell selfe may witnes [...]e how faithfully Eliosto hath loued thee▪ The Queene grieued to heare these speeches, moued with great compunction, could hardly forbeare shedding of teares; yet modestie, the ornament of womankinde, caused her to faine a counterfeit shewe of displeasure to him, whose teares wroong drops of blood from her tender heart: yet that snee might not too suddainly confesse her desires, nor giue him cause of vtter despaire, made this answer.

Eliosto, that thou maist see, and seeing, report in all places, where euer thou shalt become, of womens pittie, I graunt thee pardon for thy fault, and with it, that life which was wholly at my disposing. For louing mee as thy prince, I heartily thanke thee; but in seeking to obtaine my loue as thy Concubine, in that I defie thee: let each estate frame it selfe in affection, as it becommeth equalitie; so shall men sooner obtaine their desires, and their loues in more tran­quilitie be maintained. Thou knowest that such absurde actions are in the extreamest degree of sinne: Wilt thou therefore wish me, in violating the faith which I haue pligh­ted vnto thy father, purchafe vnto my selfe such a name, the remembrance whereof, is not lesse grieuous vnto mee than death? No, no, desist not any further to prosecute thy su [...]te, let reason vanquish thy brain-sicke humour, which so aff [...]icts th [...]e; in doing which, thou shalt make demonstrati­on of that true nobilitie, wherewith thou art endued: for no greater conquest can be imagined, than that which vpon a mans vnt [...]med affections is atchieued.Do this, and thou [...] finde Cleodora thy louing and faithfull friend; who [...] be as carefull with fauours to aduance thee, as I haue found chee prompt and ready by thy seruice to pleasure me. ‘A [...]as, good Madame, answered the Prince, it is a thing farre more easie to giue counsell, than once giuen, to fol­low it.’ The full gorged Churle little regardeth the star­uing creature at his gate; but could you conceiue the leas [...] [Page 43] part of many thousand griefes that afflict me, you would at the length pittie me, though further fauour from you I receiued none: If thy heart be not harder than the Adamant, yield thy grace (sweet Lady) to augment my life, or vtterly for euer deny me your good will. I expect but your an­swer, for my resolution is no other than I haue protested: dastards feare to die, but the noble mind preferreth death which endeth all sorrowes, before a life to be continued with discontent. The Queene, as full of anguish, as hee of sorrow, beeing at her wits ende, turned her speeches to an other matter; and requested him, to contriue as cunningly as he could, his fancie in a fiction, willing therefore to shew his Mistresse (for such I must now tearme her) that he was not ignorant in musicke, taking a Lute in his hand, began to warble out this Roundelay.

The Queene hearing all those extreames to growe from affection, was in such sort by them captiuated, that vailing top-gallant, she returned to Eliosto this finall and comfor­table resolution: The flaxe (gentle Eliosto) soone flameth, and yeeldes but a flash; the kinde mushrome soone ripens, and as soone rottes; the best Emphemerum in the riuer Hip­panis, is made in a moment, and marrd in a minute: but con­trariwise, it must be immoderate heate that engendreth the Salamander; which ingendred, neuer dieth vntil the fire be extinguished. Long time it is before the Lawrell flourish­eth, which flourishing, neuer fadeth with summers blaze, or falleth with winters blast. The Elephant is borne tenne yeares in the dammes belly, but once brought foorth, liueth three hundred. Therefore thinke me not vnworthie to be worne, Eliosto, because so long to be wooed: For light beli [...]fe hath commonly light loue. The fish Alphya is en­gendred with a small showre of raine, and therfore is coun­ted no meate for a veluet mouth▪ But good chaffer is not so soone cheapned; that which is deere of price, is deere and pretious: yea, that Castle which beares most brunt, is deemed most worthy when it is scaled. Neither doe I yet condescend to thy petition, vnlesse I were pushed ther­to by thy p [...]mise, that thou wilt be as faithfull' as thy pro­testations are faire; Not like the Lightning which flasheth, and presently [...]adeth: Nor resembling the stone M [...]hrax, which is of a rose colour, but scorched with [...] beams, [Page 47] becomes chargeable: but rather immitating the jem Thra­ [...]ias, most burning when thou [...] ouerwhelmed with roar­ing and raging disasters▪ On which conditions thy promises placing, [...]nd reposing the irremo [...]eable foundation of my faithsull refolution, I make thy person the prison of my heart, and not only v [...]uchsafe thee of some gra [...]ts of grant, but th [...]t thou mayst assure thy selfe the feedes of thy sute to haue beene sowne in a fertile soile: for euery graine of Loue buried in my breast, I will yeeld thee an eare of fifty corns. With that the impatient Louers (as if Mars had combatted with D [...]me Cytherea, for [...]uffring her Boy to make him the marke of his game) rose in armes, where Loue conquered Pleasure, Desire tooke incestuous Delight captiue, and li­tle Cupid, like a valiant carpet knight, flew into Uenus his mothers bosome. Lucilla suspecting no lesse, was thunder­stricken with that sod [...]ine and sorrowfull imagination, that bursting out of an extasie wherein she had long stoode, like one beholding [...] head, lamenting as if shee woulde haue died, and in dying, made an attonement with Death: she sate weeping and wailing for that outragious accident, wringing her lili [...] white handes, and fixing her blubbered eyes on the comfortlesse ground, clad in sable habite, wit­nessing her hearts sadnesse, and sti [...]l crying on the names of Eliosto and Cleodora, stil casting out woful inuectiues against the Destinies, calling her selfe a most accursed wretch, born vnder such vnfortunate planets: with that she might heare certaine trumpets sound, whereby shee gathered (as it was indeede) that the King was returning from hunting, giuing therefore these Lou [...]rs dren [...]ht in the full channell of Plea­sure this aduertisement, for that time they parted. Now Eli­osto after this was more impatient in his passions. For loue so fiercely assayled him, that neither Company nor Musike could mittigate his ma [...]yrdome, b [...]t did rather far increase his maladie. Shame would not let him craue counsell in this case, nor feare of his fathers displeasure reveale it to any friend, but was faine to make a Secretary of himselfe, and to participate his thoughts with his owne troubled mind.

[Page 48]Liuing thus a day or two distracted, he called to minde, the counsell of Cleodora, which was, that he should insinuate himselfe into the fauor of her maid Lucilla, who both could and would pleasure them in their loues. Her therefore hee determined to make one of his c [...]mplices, not for that hee certainely thence expected helpe, neither meant desperate­ly to detect his int [...]mate secrets without some hope; but as the Merchant, when with the cruell confederacie of the rocke and surges rage, the ship, like to a weake stickler, ha­uing all his plancke-ribs rent and riuen asunder, commit­teth his wearied body to the conuoy of a floating boorde: as the souldier, who being hemmed in on euery side with his enemies rankes, neither stands amazed with feare, yeel­ding his naked breasts to the mercilesse jaueline, nor des­perately rusheth against the poynt of the pike, which is not fortitude, but folly; but to perfourme Natures iniunctions, gathereth him selfe wisely within his weapon, and striueth with courage to acquite him selfe valiantly. Or as the wise phisition, which forsaketh not his patient, though hee can not finde any soueraigne medicine for his maladie, but mi­nistreth such as meere coniectures teach him, lest hee dis­coraged, should deliuer to death, his patient discomforted: Euen so Eliosto, thinking to prooue Lucilla, though not sure to preuaile, sent for her, who speedily comming, he courte­ously entertained, and with these perswasions indeuoured to make her a fauourite to his purposes. To whom, as they sate together in his lodging; Friend Lucilla (quoth the Prince) for so your courtesie in speedy comming at my re­quest willeth me to call you; I am to imparte a matter vnto you, of no small importaunce, in which I must first desire your diligence, faith, and secrecie: Long since I had layd these affaires in your faithfull bosome, but that I scarce knew your nature, which since the deerest of mine acq [...]ain­tance, being the most familiar of your friendes, the most friendly of my familiars, haue with no small commendati­ons deliuered vnto me; saying also, that you deserued to be inscribed in the catalogue of my acquaintance: I euer soght [Page 49] to ioyne hands with you in friendship, which now willing­ly breaketh forth into a flame, and displaieth it selfe vnto your sight; and if it shall please you to accept the same, you shal henceforth find me as forward to shew my selfe grate­full, as at this time, I am desirous you should gratifie mee in this action. To these Lucilla bowed hir selfe, and Eliosto pro­ceeded. Since the matter is to be vnfolded between friends▪ I need not vse any glozing phrase, flowers of Rhetoricke, or colours of eloquence; thou knowest, gentle Lucilla, how di [...]ficult it is to loue, and how much difficult not to loue: Is the iron faulty, because it cleaueth to the forcible Adamant? the needle because it is drawne by the vertue of the Load­stone? gold, in that it cannot withstand the hidden strength of the Chrysocol? or the rush, because it moueth to the jeate or Amber? or is flesh and blood to be blamed, because sub­iect to Beautie? No, no, gentle Lucilla: It is the attractiue force of flowering beautie, which bewitcheth the wisest, encl anteth the seuerest, curseth Sobriety from her Court, & dislodgeth Vertue from her castle. The conquerd must obey by constraint: for me to striue against the streame, is furie; to beare a saile against the wind, frenzie. Where­fore exiling all mistrust, from the bottome of mine heart, I wil briefly display vnto thee the whole shrine of my secrets; then will I vnfolde both our ensuing profits, and also the meanes of eschewing our perill. I loue my mother Cleodora, neither is the fault (if any fault be) to be fathered by me, but by Fortune, who holdeth the helme or stearne of al humane life. I was not earst acquainted with mothers manners, nor inuitiated in the elements of her country curtesies. I thought that womens eies had euer beene true embassadours of their hearts, I tooke their lookes for their sutors, and their glaun­ces to be tokens of their speciall good-wil: alas, herein I fai­led in my physiognomie; for noting Cleodora often sweetely to smile on me, and gathering thereby (as I thought) infalli­ble signes of her fauour towards my selfe: and on the other side, supposing that I should shewe my selfe to be but of a very cold constitution, in that I could not loue, or prooue [Page 50] my selfe an haggard, or faint-hearted foole, to expect any further at a womans handes, whose modestie restraineth her from opening her minde any otherwise, than by her eies onely: Wherefore, I mo [...]e forward▪ than fortunate, first set my fort into the fielde, thinking my selfe a worthier per­sonage, because loued of such a Ladie; and then first think­ing my selfe vnworthy, at least vnworthy of such a crea­ture: so, not suspecting otherwise, than that all was sure on my side, with the better courage I marched thither; where I found contrary to expectati [...]n▪ the gates of Lou [...] fast loc­ked, and my passage to Affection gaine-said: but shame it was to retire, nay it was vnpossible to returne; for by dea­ling with the flame, I had so seared and singed my wings, that I was safe enough for flying further. Therefore now pittying my selfe, who was earst so pittifull for her sake, I fought by all meanes I could, by often rubbing, to force out some fire, in the hard flintie walles of her heart, whereby in time I found her so tractable; yea, and her intire loue, shi­ning forth in such aboundance, that I could not without much diligence and industrie, deuise how to couer the light thereof; our loue was still letted, but so farre from bee­ing lessened, that now, if thou vouchsafest not thine hel­ping hand, it will deface with the fowlest blot, our whole familie, to the ruine both of thy Mistresse, and my selfe. Al­though for the honourable loue which my soule beareth to our famous house, I could perswade my selfe to abandon the Court, my Country, to leaue my father; yea, which thing is greatest, and most grieuous, to forgoe my deerest mother, hoping that Time might weare out the Impressa of her i­mage [...]rom mine heart, if thus much I were not acquain­ted with her determinate resolution, that shee will either flie with me, or follow me: yet if shee bee intercepted, shee will teare the prison of her daintie bodie, with her naked hands, so that her soule freed from earthly fetters, will still accompany me. Then what lowd laughter would this af­foard to our enuious foes? what lamentation would it bring to our friends? who the more the enuious should triumph [Page 51] umphat hir grief, the more would she grieue at hir triumph. Therefore (sweete Lucilla) wee commit to thee, the reines of our coach, hoping thou wilt with as great speede as we both exspect, guide vs to the height of our desires: what preiudice can arise, for that I once or twice enter commons with my father, especially when his eyes see nought wher­at they may grieue, nor any perceiue whereat they may grudge: which done, we shall beginne to loue with reason, who now are led with rage, and after our heat is mitigated, call our selues to account, and counsell how we may break off our commenced course. Thou knowest how our wi­shes may be comp [...]ssed, how our willes may be accompli­shed; thou art acquainted with the roomes and lodgings of the Court, thou canst procure me accesse without suspi­tion, and regresse without danger: this cannot bee doone without thy helpe, and cannot be left vndone without our mishap. Now, what profite may hereby proceede, what discommodity you shall preuent, I appeale to none other Iudge than to thine owne dis [...]retion; for heereby thou shalt preserue our houses fame, and deserue mee thy e­ternall friend. Be not mercilesse, good Lucilla, because I intreate thee, nor voyde of pitty, because I pray thee: I haue committed to thee my body, which is my selfe; and Cleodora who is my soule, vse them faithfully, who doub­ted not to conceiue of thee friendly: let it suffice that thou couldest as well hurt as helpe, kill as cure, as well sincke as saue vs.

Heereupon Lucilla somewhile deliberating, and in de­liberation making faire weather in her face, which beto­kened the like to betide E [...]sosto in his loue. And although Eliosto (quoth shee) as you pretend the yro [...] naturally cleaueth to the forcible Adamant, and nature can not be exanthorated, yet the adamant leeseth his power when the iron is rubbd ouer with the Sideritie: though th [...] needle be drawne vnto the loadstone, yet the operation of the load­stone is annihilated by opposition of the more vertuous [Page 52] Theomedes: the Chrysocoll beeing steeped in the iuyce of garlike, leeseth his effect: the jeat cannot preuaile against the rush, vnlesse your selfe voluntarily lend it artificial heat: to be short, Humane flesh is not so feeble, as you paint it forth, vnlesse Vertue the prince and mistris be made sla­uish, subiect to base affections: how can Beautie beare sway, if you rule your barke with this rudder? If you vse this excellent gift as a preseruatiue kept in your pocket, or a Pomander in your bosome, without applying the one, or chafing the other: then is not vertue in the fault, but the blame to be laid on your owne folly: for wherefore do you we are a Lawrell branch, and yet are scorched with lighte­ning? to what ende doe you beare the hooke, and yet suffer the minde to be ouergrowne with disordinate weeds? what auaileth it to carrie the Androdamant shielde of Pallas, if not able to shunne the darts of Venus? But it is too late to cry Stand, to him that lieth in the dirt: to wish his present returne, who hath newly committed his sailes to the mer­cie of the winde: to teach him to know an Eele, who is al­ready bitten with a snake: for in such cases, we nought re­quire how it happened, but how the hap may be healed. Know therefore, worthy Eliost [...], how farre this request is from newes to Lucilla, which often Cleodora recited vnto me, loading mine eares with lamentations, redoubling blowes on her naked breasts; intreating me, either to take away her life, or else to make way for her loue: I resisted, not mooued with her petitions, which I confuted with perswasions, and would haue confounded them with threats, had I not seene her desperate resolution to be such, that shee would rather, or sooner butcher her owne bodie, then renounce her deere loue, Eliosto: how often beeing drowned in deepe remembrance of your selfe, shee hath called vp­on the name of Eliosto, and espying mee to per [...]eiue it, shee presently ouercast her l [...]llie che [...]kes with a crimson vaile! But alas, how hath Discontent altered her coun­tenance? how hath Griefe impaired her admired beauty? how haue salt & brinie teares left their stained paths where [Page 53] they earst trickled downe, on that euer-flowring spring of her sweete face? Ah Cleodora! Cleodora (and therewith sha­king her head, fresh teares brake foorth their way) who e­uer sawe a greater change? Cleodora I say, in whose person Vertue marched arme in arme with Beautie, hath blemi­shed her outward blaze, with an inward blotte. Cleodora, who was chaste, because she was wise, and wise, in that she was chaste, hath bleared the eye of her mind with foule af­fection: finaly, Cleodora surpassing her sexe as the Sunn [...] doth all other planets, being Beautie it selfe, is Narcissus-like intangled with the image of Beautie: for you also noble E­liosto are passing faire, excelling men as farre as the Moone dooth any Starre, to our sight, and therfore I the lesse mar­uell that such an eclipse should appeare in our Sunne, when such a Moone was opposite to the same: But now since a daungerous sore requireth an vndaunted phisition, I heere girde my selfe to the vndertaking of this seruice, and pur­pose to giue you notice of conuenient opportunitie. This being saide, Lucilla tooke her leaue, promising that Eliosto should heare from her ere long: Be mindefull then (good Lucilla) q [...]oth Eliosto, for I long to heare from thee. I will deserue commendations (quoth shee) and then shee depar­ted.

Not long after, through the vaine conceipt of factious spirites, desiring (as many now-adayes) innouation, there grew in the Northerne parts of Cyprus, a sedition, which by reason of preiudiciall proceedings seem'd to be perempto­rie in some fatall resolution. Amasias soueraigne and king of that famous Continent, pittying the sinister accidents of his people, being a man as iust in his censures, as royall in his possessions, as carefull for the weale of his country, as the continuance of his diademe, thought, That vnpeopled cities were corosiues to princes cōsciences, that the strength of his subiects, was the sinewes of his dominions, and that euery crowne must containe a care, not onely to win honor by foraine conquests, but in mainta [...]ning dignity with ciuil and domesticall insights. Wherefore grounding his argu­ments [Page 54] vpon these premisses, coueting to be counted Pater patriae, determined with as great speed as might be, to sup­presse, by his royall presence in those parts (if it were possi­ble) the principall means of that disordinate [...]ebellion. Pro­uiding therefore all things needfull for su [...]h an expedition, forth he sets, no lesse honorably accompanied, then strong­ly defended; vnto whose euents, for a time, wee will leaue him. The Queene seeing Fortune to present her with Ball and Racket, thought it not good, through remisse negli­gence, to tempt her Deitie. Whereupon shee dispatcht her maid to aduertise the Prince, not of those accidents (for with them he was throughly acquainted) but of the time when he should be present before Cleodoraes windowe, which was at [...]en of the clocke in the night. E [...]osto vpon these tidings, beeing indued with vanitie, and imbrued with vice, did so nusle himselfe vp in this his admiration, as that neither the dread of Gods wrath, nor the feare of his fathers displea­sure, could driue him to desist from his detestable kinde of liuing. Well, at length the heauie euening, heauie for the de­parture of beautifull [...], began to put on her sable at­tire, and mourning-like, to fixe her saddest face on the sor­rowfull earth; her face I say, yet blacke and sorrowfull, though the golden starres, labour [...]d with their twinckling light, to make her looke somewhat more liuely: when Elio­sto engulphed in an Ocean of Conceipts, came staggering to the lodging, or rather temple o [...] his goddesse, where hee might espie the beames of a c [...]ndle breaking through a chinke of a moltred wall. The Prince peeping, perce [...]ued Cl [...]odora sitting very solitari [...], with her folding armes, em­bracing ea [...]h other, whom after he had named, and deliue­red his watch-word: Who, mine Eliosto (quoth shee?) I, an­swered he, I am here, truely in [...]ituled, Thine [...]: since I am altogether thine: open; open vnto me, my sweet dar­ling, for I long to enioy thy beloued company.

Cleo [...]ora with silent pace approched to the gates her selfe, endeauouring to vndoe the barres, whi [...]h indeed were too heauie to be remoued by a weake womans arme; notwith­standing [Page 55] shee opened them onely for the space of halfe a foote, which Eliost [...] seeing, Desire making him thinke no­thing vnpossible; first with his right slender side, and con­sequently with his whole bodie, entred the house: where imbracing her, as he thought to haue imprinted his heart in her sweet lippes, shee fell into a swound: so did the [...]xtre­mitie of either suddaine ioy, or inopina [...]e feare exanimate her; the blood naturally retiring from her palest face, to comfort the passionate heart, the trembling whites of her eies, skarce appearing through their almost closed shrines, so that shee seemed ra [...]her a senslesse image, than a liuely corps: but onely the pulses, as messengers, and vitall heate remaining, and yet retaining his course, gaue euidence, that the soule had as yet, not le [...]t the earthly confines of her ta­bernacle. Eliosto hereat would haue lost his wittes, in the Laborynth of perplexities, had not the sting of griefe recal­led and reclaimed his [...]leeting and fugitiue spirits. Alas, if I should flie (quoth he) I were guiltie of her death, for lea­uing her destitute in such danger; if I remaine, some one of her guard may take me, and f [...]om me, my life. O vnfortu­nate loue, which minglest my sugar with salt, my sirrope with aloes, my gladnes with griefe; thou giuest me a nose­gay of nettles, hid amongst a few roses, thou shewest mee a faire picture drawne with infectious paint, thou offerest to kisse me, and in kissing, to stabbe mee. Into how many daungers hast thou drawne mee? Into howe many deathes hast tho [...] driuen mee? with how many blowes hast thou annoyed my [...]orrowfull head? what plague now remained for thee to exercise vpon my vnfort [...]nate [...]elfe but this? the worst and wo [...]ullest, to murther a Lady in mine armes? why hadst thou not rather tried thy cruelty, and tyred thy selfe with tyranny firs [...] on Eliosto? why hadst thou not first but­chered my body, and stanched thy thirst with my blood? happ [...]er had I [...]ied, laying mine head in he [...] lap, than liuing to haue held her dy [...]ng in my bo [...]ome This sa [...]d, he beeing ouercome with pitie, and kindnesse, cast away all care of his owne [...], and often bowing vp her speechlesse body, often kissing her, and more often watering the [Page 56] garden (sometimes a faire garden fairely deck'd with fresh­est flowers) of her face with deaw from his distillant eyes: Ah Cleodora, quoth he, where art thou? why, hearest thou not? Or hearing, why answerest thou not? Open thine eies, and see thy Eliosto, and seeing, smile on him, and smiling as thou arte woont, kisse him; it is thy Eliosto who is present with thee, speaketh to thee, and kisseth thee; alas, and arte thou dead, my heart? soone shall my sworde make passage for my soule, that it might meete thee againe in the faire E­lizian fieldes. Ah my life, my delight, blessed hope, my dear­est ioy, shall I so leese thee? Yet vnfold those beautiful car­buncles of thine eyes, yet heaue vp thine head, or at least, bid me farewell: I see thou arte not yet departed, thou yet retainest vitall heate, thou yet breathest, thy heart yet bea­teth. O Cleodora, leaue not thy Loue in so lamentable di­stresse; are these the ioyes vnto which thou bidst me? these the delights to which thou bringest me? these the pleasures to which thou inuitest me? is this the night which thou af­foordest me? Ah blackest night, fit witnesse of my woes, be­cause best resembling my sorowes: Therewith fixing his eyes on Cleodoraes face, he rained foorth teares in such a­boundance, that they washing her temples somewhat pier­ced and quickened the surprised senses; whereby weakely starting vp, and garishly staring about, especially on the face of Eliosto; Ah, where haue I bin (said she) why didst thou not rather suffer mee quietly to departe? blessed had I died in thy embracings, and happy to haue breathed foorth my soule into thy mouth, but now must I liue to be left of thee, and now must I die for being left of thee. But within a while, she being appeased, they entred their bed chamber, and hauing layd aside their apparrell (as some men vse to doe their friends) vntill they had neede to vse them againe, they reposed their dainty bodies in the prepared bed. In which bed it might seeme that Cupid had taken vp his lodg­ing, and yet not to rest: he came naked, and without all ar­mor, and yet not without his dart: He was her Mars, Paris, Ganymedes, she his Venus, Helena, Polixena, Aemilia. Nowe [Page 57] he praised her faire eyes, commended her soft cheekes, her full swelling pappes; and yet not satisfied with delight, hee often lifted vp the sheete, to make the sence of his sight par­taker of those ioies, which his feeling had before possessed. And what disaster (said he) so desperate, that could deterre me from ventring for such a conquest? Now is my fortune in the pride of her estate, now am I placed in the height of felicitie, now am I seated vpon the throne of happines. But alas, why flies th'enuious houre away so fast? why fleets the winged night so hastily? why doth Apollo gather his star­ued steedes so soone to their daily labor? Giue me a night, such as thou didst to Hercules, and Alcmena; certes if aged Tithon were as much delighted with the company of Auro­ra, as I with Cleodora, hee would longer detaine her in her watry couch. Neither was the queene all this while silent, who repayed him his owne, both in word and action. By this time the blackest night had his jeaty beard changed in­to an hoary gray, whereby Eliosto perceiued that hee was waxen old and departing, ready to resigne his scepter to a better successor; Wherefore, though detained with the loue he bore to his mother, yet forced with feare of both their ensuing infamies, he tooke his fainting farewell. Thus by these two infortunate louers, (as in the progresse of this Historie shall be shewed) wee may see, How through our owne will, and too much libertie, that small incli­nation which we haue to vertue, to be vtterly extingui­shed and brought to nothing. The palme tree pressed downe, groweth notwithstanding but too fast, the hearbe Spattania, though troden on, groweth very tall; and youth, although strictly restrained, will proue but too stubborne. The vessell sauoreth alwayes of that liquor, wherewith it was first seasoned, and the minde retaineth those qua­lities in age wherein it was trained vp [...]e in youth. The tender twigge is sooner broken than the strong branch, the yong stem more brittle than the old stock, the we [...]ke bramble shaken with euery winde, and the waue [...]ing will of youth tossed with euery puffe of vanitie, ready to [Page 58] be wracked in the waues of wantonnesse, vnlesse it bee cunningly guided by some wise and warie Pylot. Wher­sore, seeing youth is so easily intrapped with the alluring traine of foolish delights, and so soone intangled with the trash of pernicious pleasures; let vs not passe away our time in idlenesse, least happily, beeing taken at discouert, we become carelesse captiues to Securitie: For when the mind once floteth in the surging seas of idle conceipts, then the puffes of voluptuous delights, & the stifling stormes of vnbrideled fancy, the raging blasts of alluring Beautie, and the sturdie gale of glozing vanity, so shake the ship of reck­les youth, that it is daily in doubt to suffer most dangerous shipwracke. But let vs spend our time in reading such anci­ent Authors, as may sharpē our wits by their pithy sayings, & learne vs wisdome by their perfect sentences.For where Nature is vitious, by Learning it is amended; and where it is vertuous, by Skill augmented. The stone of secret vertue is of greater price, if it be brauely polished: the gold, though neuer so pure of it selfe, hath the better colour, if it be burni­shed: & the mind, though neuer so vertuous, is more noble, if inriched with the gifts of Learning. But to my purpose. Not long after, Amazias hauing quatted the quesy stomaks of the rebels, & setting all things in order, returnd with safe­ty to Famogosta, esteemed famous for his peaceable gouern­ment; administring Iustice with such seueritie, and yet tem­pering the extremitie of the law, with such lenitie, as he both gained the good will of strangers, in hearing his vertue, and wonne the hearts of his subiects in feeling his bounty; coun­ting him vnworthy to beare the name of a soueraigne, who knew not according to desart, to cherish & chastise his sub­iects: and had not in continent affection (which he vsed dai­ly) counteruailed his more royall disposition, the state of his soueraignty had bin beutified with inequiualency. But the obliquity of this vice being firmly fortified in the center of his heart, could neither by the honest societie with his Qu. any thing be mitigated, or through the immoderate & illicit acquaintāce with others, somwhat discouraged. For proofe whereof, on a day, after the Northern tēpests were quieted, [Page 59] as he rode a hunting with certain of his Peeres, he stumbled by chance at a Farmers house, where hee espied a woman, homely attired, of modest countenance, her face imported both loue & grauitie; who seeing the King approach, dying her christall cheeks with a vermilion hue, after humble reue­rence, brought him in a country Cruise, such drinke as their cottage did afford. Amazias narrowly marking her pro­portion, courteously tooke his leaue and departed; but the sparkes of lust that had kindled a flame of Desire in his fan­cie, perplexed his mind with sundry passions: For calling to his consideration, not onely her exteriour beautie, adorned with sundry graces; but also her inward perfection, bewrai­ing she was both wise and honest, hee fell into this discourse with himself. For shame Amazias let not thy thoughts wan­der in a Laborinth, to be endlesse, seeing the flower of thy youth hath bin spent in vice, let the fruite of thine age onely sauour of vertue: if the goods had not the Firstlings of thy yeres, yet let thē haue thy gray head in pawne of a sacrifice. Time is a retrait from vanitie & vice; thy foot is stepping to the graue, & Opportunie bids thee take hold of repentance. Venus is printed without wrinckles, as signifying shee is the goddesse of youth: What of this fond foole? suppose thou wert yong, shalt thou therefore wallow in intemperance? do not the gods forbid thee to craue another mans due? are not voluptuous desires to be suppressed as wel in the yong sien, as in the old tree? is thy fancy so fickle, as euery face must be viewed with affection? Fond man, think this, that the poore man makes as great account of his wife, as the greatest Mo­narch in the world doth of an Empresse; that honestie har­bours as soone in a cottage, as in the court; that their mindes oppressed with want, are freed frō the vanities of loue. Thē Amazias, cease these friuolous suppositions, and seeke not so much as in thought, to offer wrong to so modest a woman, whose honest behauiour foreshewes, that as she is poore, so shee is chaste, and holdeth as deere the price of her fame, as the state of her life. No doubt Amazias thou art become a very holy Prelate, that hast so many precepts to refell [Page 60] that thou hast alwaies followed. Is not Loue a Lord, as well amongst Beggars as Kings? Cannot Cupid as soone hit a shepheards hooke, as a scepter? Doth not Pouertie by na­turall in-sight yield to the desires of Maiestie? Are womens faces alwaies Kalenders of Truth, or are their lookes (as O­uid affirmeth) euer Mind-glasses? No, the thoughts of wo­men hang not alwaies in their eies, Dissimulation is si­ster to Ianus, and wanton appetite, oftentimes jetteth vn­der the maske of Chastitie. Hast thou hitherto not bin repulsed with any resolute denials, and shalt thou now be o­uerthrowne with a looke? No, forward Amazias in thy pur­pose, triumph man, and say as Caesar did in his Conquests, Veni, Vidi, Vici. The King resting vpon this wicked resoluti­on, met by chance the husband of the wife comming from Plough, who seeing Amazias, did his dutie in most humble manner. The King thinking to take opportunitie at the rebound, thought now he had very good meanes to know the disposition of the woman, and her husbands name, that hee might make repaire thither, to prosecute his wicked purpose. He began therefore to inquire of the man where he dwelt: the poore Farmer, calling to minde that he had a faire wife, was not willing to tell the place of his abode, made answer, Vpon the Forrest side. What is he (quoth A­mazias) that dwels at yonder Grange place (for they were in view of the house,) and if thou canst (quoth he, goe so farre) tell me what your neighbours say of his faire wife? The man was amazed at this question, suspecting that, which indeed prooued true; though his apparell was simple, yet hauing a subtill wit, made him this answer. The man (my Liege) is poore, but honest; his name Lew [...]sohiln, a Farmer by profession, loued of his neighbours, for that he neuer enui­eth his superiors, nor grudgeth at his equals; fauoured of the gods, in that amidst his pouertie, he hath a contented minde, and a wife that is beautifull, wise, and honest: whose life is so vertuous, that our Countrie wiues take her actions as a President, whereby they may gouerne their fame and credit: in so much, that shee is not so much praised for her [Page 61] beautie, as shee is reuerenced for her chastitie. Amazias contented with this reply, rode his way, and the poore man in a dumpe went home to his wife, to whom he reuealed the effect of the Kings demaund: shee willing her husband to repose his wonted trust in her good behauiour, quieted his mind with the hope of her constancie; but the like rest hap­pened not vnto the King. For he, incensed by the praises of her vertues, fell into such a restlesse Chaos of confused pas­sions, that he could take no rest till the night was passed in broken slumbers. The next morning, taking Loue onely for his guide, priuatly he went to the Farmers house, where finding her with one of her maides in the midst of her hus­wiferie, he stood a prettie while, taking a viewe of her ex­quisite perfection; till at the last, the good wife espied him, (who, nothing dismaied with his presence, for that beeing forewarned, shee was fore-armed) gaue him after her home­ly fashion, a Countrie welcome. The King sate downe, and finding some talke, began to discourse with her, about her well ordered house, and other matters, that by a long insi­nuation, he might the better fall to his purpose. The poore woman, whose name was Ballinea, was as busie as a Bee, to set before Amazias such rurall junkets, as the Plough af­foards, making fewe answers; till at last the King, after hee had tasted of her delicates, taking her by the hand, framed his speech in this manner.

Ballinea, I will not make a long haruest, for a small crop; nor goe about to pull Hercules shooe, vpon Achilles foote;Orations are needelesse, where necessitie forceth, and the shortest preamble is best, where Loue puts in his plea: therefore, omitting all friuolous prattle, know, that as well at the sight of thy Beautie, as by the report of thine Hone­stie, affection hath so fettered me in the snares of fancie, that formy best refuge, I am come to thy sweet selfe, to craue a salue for those passions, which no other can appease. I deny not, but thou hast both Loue, and Law, to withhold thee from this perswasion: and yet we know, women haue their seuerall friends. Venus, though shee loues with one eie, yet [Page 62] she can look with th'other. Cupid is neuer so vnprouided, but he hath two arrowes of one temper. Offences are not mea­sured by proportion, but by secrecy: Sinon castè tamen cautè. If not chastely; yet charily: thou maist both winne a frind, and preserue thy fame, yea Ballinea, such a friend whose countenance shal shrowd thee from enuy, and whose plen­tie shall free thee from penurie. I will not stand longer vp­on this point, let it suffice, that in louing me, thou shalt reap preferrement, and in denying my suite purchase to thy hus­band, and thy selfe, such an hatefull enemy, as to requite thy deniall, will seeke to preiudice thee with all mishaps. Bal­linea, who knew the length of his arrow, by the bent of his bow, (resolued rather to taste of any misery, than for lucre to make shipwracke of hir chastity) returned him this sharp answer. Indeed, my Liege, a lesse haruest might haue serued for so bad corne, that how warily soeuer you gleane, it will scarce proue worth the reaping. Tru it is, that preambls are friuolous, that perswade men to such follies: therefore, had you spar'd this speach, your credit had bin the more, & your labor lesse. If on the sodaine my beauty hath inueagled you (for as for my virtue you hazard but a suppose, sith ofttimes report hath a blister on her tong) I must blame your eye that is bleer'd with euery obiect, & accuse such a mind as suffers honor to be suppressed with affection, & (my Lord) soone ripe soone rotten, hot loue is so one cold. Mens fancies are like fire in straw, that flames in a minute, & ceaseth in a mo­ment: But to return you a denial with your own objection: true it is that I am tide to my husband both by loue & law, which to violate, both the gods and nature forbids vs, vnles by death. Venus may loue & look as she list, & at last proue hirselfe but a wanton; hir inordinate affections, are no pre­sidents wherby to direct my actions. And whereas you say Offences are measured by secrecie; I answer, Euery thing is transparent to the sight of the gods, their diuine eyes pierce into the hart and thoughts; & they measure not reuenge by dignity, but by iustice. For preferrement, knowe (mighty prince) ther are no greater riches than content, nor no gre­ter [Page 63] honor than quiet: I esteem more of fame than of gold, & rather chuse to die chast than liue rich, threatnings are small perswasions, & little is her honesty that preferres life before credit. Therefore may it please you, this is my determined resolution, which take from me as an Oracle, that as prefer­ment shall neuer perswade me to be vnchaste, so death shall neuer disswade me from being honest. Amazias hearing this rough replie of the woman, was driuen into a maruellous choller, so that skarce affording her a farewel, he flung out of dores, and going to horse, he hied home to the court. The good wife glad that he tooke the matter so in snuffe, com­manded her maid to say nothing to hir master, lest it should disquiet his minde. But the King impatient of this deniall, thought that the Citie which would not yield at the parley, might be conquered by an assault; and that which intreaty could not command, force would constraine: therefore he commanded one of his Peeres, whom he made priuie to his practise, to giue him warning to depart out of his house, but with this prouiso, that if his wife were found tractable, then she should remaine there still. The Noble man fulfil­ling his Soueraignes command, proued straight by experi­ence, that it was as possible to force the streame against his course, or the earth to ascend from his center, as to draw her minde from vertue and honestie: and therefore, contrarie to all law and conscience, charged them to leaue their liuings. The poore man, after his wife had made him priuie to the cause of their suddaine calamitie, tooke it very patiently, & chose rather to liue poorely content, then richly discredi­ted: so that the prefixed time of his departure being come, he quietly departed from the farme to a cottage, where his wife and he liued as perfect louers in vnfained affection. A­mazias seeing his pollicie tooke small effect, impatient stil in his restles passions, accompanied one day with 5 or 6 of his nobles, taking the aduantage of the time, perforce brought Ballinea away, & priuily left two of his guard in ambush to kil Lewesohiln. The neighbors hearing of this mischiefe, se­cretly sent to Lewesohiln, where he was at plow, & forewarnd [Page 64] him of all that Amazias had done, and intended.

The poore man seeing, that to striue with him, was to shoote against the Heauens, preferring life before wealth, euen as he was apparrelled, went farre from the place of his residence; and as a man in distresse, seeking seruice, went to a Collier, who entertained, and gaue him such wages, as hee deserued: where quietly, although disquieted in minde for the absence of his wife, he passed away a few daies. Diuerse were poore Lewesohilns thoughts, for when hee considered the Chastitie of his wife, Suspition hidde her face for shame; but when he saw that womens thoughts are aspi­ring, and gape after preferment, and that the greatest as­sault to honestie, is Honour; he began to frowne: so that thus betweene Dread and Hope, he liued disquieted. But poore Ballinea, whose miserie was redoubled, by hearing of her husbands mishappe, powred out such continuall foun­taines of teares, as not onely Amazias, but all men tooke pi­tie of her plaints. But the vnbrideled furie of Lust, that while it runnes headlong into a Laborynth of mischiefes, feeleth no remorse, had no consideration of her daily sor­rowes, but resolued, if not by intreatie, at least by force, to come to the ende of his lasciuious desire. Which resoluti­on beeing knowne to Ballinea, from Praiers shee went to Pollicie, and therefore on the suddaine became more cour­teous, desiring Amazias, that he would giue her some space to forget her old Loue, and entertaine a new choice. Hee, whose fancy was somwhat appeased with this good speech, granted her the tearme of a Moneth, with free libertie to walke in the garden, and else-where at her pleasure. Balli­nea enioying her wish, so fortunately taking Time by the forehead, earely in a morning stole secretly from the Palace, and fledde into the Countrie; where, in the day time hiding her selfe amongst bushes, and in the night trauelling as fast as shee could; at last shee came to the place where her hus­band was with the Collier: and there changing her apparell into the attire of a man, and her head brauely shorne, shee became an handsome stripling. The next day, comming [Page 65] to the Cole-pits, she demanded seruice; The master Collier, seeing the youth well faced, had pittie of his want, and en­tertained him: and for that Lewesohiln his man wanted one to driue his cart, he appointed Ballinea to attend vpon him. Shee thanking the gods that blest her with so fauourable a seruice, was brought to the sight of Lewesohiln, and commit­ted to his charge. Lewesohiln pittying the poore estate of such a yong youth, noting narrowly the lineaments of her face, fell into sighes, & from sighes to teares, for the remem­brance of his sweet Ballinea: who pittying her husbands plaints, in that she was a true deuiner of his thoughts, could not (as womens secrets oft hang at the tip of their tongues) but bewray to her husband what shee was: who, when he perfectly knew his wife, so strangely metamorphised; what for ioy of her presence, and sorrow that Fortune had made them both thus vnhappy, he fel into deeper complaints, till appeased by his wife, they went merrily to worke. But A­mazias missing Ballinea, and after diligent search, perceiuing she was stole away, fel into such a melancholy humour, that his subiects thought him halfe in a frenzie. He commanded horse to be made out into euery high way, all passages to be stopt, euery woman to be examined: but in vaine; which so increased his surie, that he injoyned an officer of his Court, (as wel qualified as himselfe) to search out (if it were possi­ble) by his extraordinary industrie, the inauspicate conuei­ance of his loue. Who taking horse, rode vp and downe the countrie, as one halfe madde; but found not that he sought for. At last, Fortune enuying the happines of Lewesohiln, and his wife, brought him where the Colliers were at worke: and a pretty space before he came at the Pit, he met Ballinea; who seeing him, although he had disguised himselfe, because he would ride vnknowne, yet perfectly perceiued what hee was; and therefore would willingly haue beene out of his company.

But hee calling vnto her, and shee hauing her leather coate all dustie, and her sweete face all besmeared with coales, was the bolder to goe; and demaunded of him what [Page 66] he wanted? Rawcikew (for so was the mans name) inquired if such a woman passd not that way? yes mary (quoth Ballinea) there passd by such a one indeede, who as she reported, fled from Amazias, for that the King would haue depriued her of her chastitie. Canst thou tell mee (quoth he) whither shee is gone? if I could (quoth Bal [...]inea) thinke not so little courtesy in me, as to betray her; for by thy strait inquirie, I perceiue thou art seruant to that dishonourable Prince, that spareth neither wife nor widow, to satisfie his vnbrideled lust. Raw­cikew not brooking these hard speeches, alighted from his horse, thinking to haue well bumbasted the boy; who, as fast as he could, fled to the Colepit. The colliers seeing their boy, (whom for his good behauiour, they all generally affe­cted) to be misused by a Seruingman, tooke their whips in their hands, and demanded of Rawcikew, what hee meant to offer violence to any of their company? For that (quoth he) the boy hath greatly abused the King. Ballinea told them all the whole matter: which knowne, the Colliers wisht him, if he were well, to be packing. Rawcikew seeing amongst such an vnruly company, he could not mend himselfe, went his way with a slea in his eare; and as he rode, perceiued where Lewesohiln lay asleep; who was not so disguised, but he knew him perfectly: thinking therefore, when hee did awake, to learne something out of him; and so turning his horse into a close hard by, rested himselfe behind a bush. Long he had not sate, before Ballinea came merrily whistling with her cart, & told her husband all what had happened; who both smiled that the officer had such rough entertainment, as al­so, that so cleanly shee had deceiued him. Rawcikew, who o­uerheard them, and perceiued that the youth whom hee tooke for a stripling, was Ballinea the poore mans wife; felt such a remorse in his conscience, that the King should offer violence to so vertuous and chaste a mind, that as soone as they were gone, he posted as fast as he could to the Court, & reuealed vnto Amazias the whole matter: who greatly plea­sed with the discourse, desirous againe to see so honest a wife, presently dispatcht a Purseuant to command the Col­lier [Page 67] to bring his man Lewesohiln, & his boy before him. The Purseuant sparing no horse-flesh, came so fast from the court, that he found them al at dinner: who, after they heard his message, were amazed; especially poore Ballinea, who feared some new misfortune: yet cheering her selfe, the bet­ter to comfort her husband, they went with the Purseuant to the Court: where beeing brought before Amazias, Rawci­kew complained of the Collier, how he had abused his Ma­iestie, in maintaining his boy to giue him euil language. The Collier (as a man amazed) confessed his fault, and therefore desired the Nobles which were standing by, to be his good Lords and Masters. Amazias, who all this while had his eie vpon Ballinea, asked her what he was? May it please your Grace (quoth she) I am seruant to this man, who is owner of the pit, but vnder this other, who is ouerseer of my work: so then (quoth the King) you serue two masters, the one by day, and the other by night. Nay my Liege (quoth Ballinea) but one master, for wee make small account of any seruice that is done in the night. How say you sirra (quoth the king to Lewesohiln) is not this boy your man? No my Lord (quoth he) onely my bed-fellow, and that is all the seruice I craue at his hands. At this answer, the King and the Noble men smi­led, and Ballinea fearing she was discouered, began to blush: which Amazias perceiuing, demanded of her, of what age she was? About 18. my Liege (quoth she). Amazias willing to trie then, what the euent would be, told the collier that he and his man, for that their faults were through ignorance▪ might get them home: but for your boy (quoth the King) seeing he is so young, and well faced, I meane to make him my Page. The Collier was glad hee was so dispatcht; but poore Lewesohiln, through aboundance of griefe was almost driuen into an extasie; so that changing colour, hee could skarce stand on his legs: which Ballinea perceiuing, seeing now Fortune had done her worst, resolued to suffer all mi­series whatsoeuer: falling down therfore vpon her knees, she vnfolded to the King what she was, & from point to point, discoursed what had happened between her & Rawcikew, in­termedling [Page 68] her speeches with such a fountaine of teares, as the King pittying her plaints, willed her to bee of good cheere; for neither hee, nor any other in all his kingdome, should offer her any violence. Mooued therfore with a cer­taine compunction, hee was not onely content to bridle his affections, but to indowe her with such sufficient lands, and possessions, as might very wel maintaine her in the estate of a gentlewoman; who with her husband, long after liued in a most prosperous and happie estate.

These and such like irregular proceedings of the King, did without doubt, occasionate a farre greater presumption of offending to Cleodora and Eliosto, after that inexpiable manner then vnto which by their owne inclination, they would haue bin instigated. But we must not looke what men doe, but what men ought to do: it is ill going to Hel, though with a thousand companions. Wel, Eliosto was at length so intricated in the gins of affection, and so intangled with the trappe of fancie, so perplexed in the laborynth of pinching loue, and so inchanted with the charmes of Venus sorcerie; that as the Elephant reioyceth greatly at the sight of a Rose, as the birds Halciones delight to viewe the fea­thers of the Phae [...]ix, and as nothing better contenteth a Roe bucke, than to gaze at a red cloth; so was there no obiect that could allure the wauering eies of Eliosto, as the surpas­sing beautie of his mother Cleodora: yea, his onely blisse, pleasure, ioy, and delight, was in feeding his desires, with staring on the heauenly face of his goddesse. But alas, her beautie in the ende wrought his bane; her lookes, his woe; her sight, his miserie; her exquisite perfections, his vtter o­uerthrow: that as the Ape, by seeing the Snaile is infected; as the Leopard falleth in a trance at the sight of the Locust; as the Cockatrice dieth with beholding the Chrysolite; so poore Eliosto was pinched (as the consequence of this Hi­storie manifesteth) to the heart, with viewing her comely countenance, was griped with execrable calamity, and tor­tured with insupportable torments, by gazing on the gal­lant beautie of so gorgeous a dame.

[Page 69]Neither did Cleodoraes mishaps faile to accompany Elio­stoes extremities with correspondencie: for she so framed in hir imaginations the forme of his face, and so imprinted in her hart the perfection of his person, that the remembrance thereof would not suffer her (exempted from his compa­ny) to take any rest: but then passed the day in dolour, the night in sorrow, no minute without mourning, & no houre without heauinesse, till at length the vengeance of the gods, issuing foorth like thunder eclipsed the bright sunne-shine of their felicitie with the Cimmerian blacknesse of confusion. In the meane time, Fortune willing to aduaunce them to the top of her inconstant wheele, sundry times presented them with opportunity for the fruition of their desires, and con­ueniencie for the discourse of their mutuall affections: which thing Eliosto, tbrough consonancie found most true: for on a day as he espied his Lady and Loue walking alone in the Garden, his senses, by that soddaine sight, was so reuiued, that without any dread or doubt, he manfully mar­ched towards her, and was as hastily as heartily encountred by Cleodora, who embracing him in her armes, welcomed him with this salutation. As the whale (Eliosto) maketh al­wayes signe of great ioy at the sight of the fi [...]h called Talp [...] Marina, as the lion fawneth at the view of the vnicorne, and as he which drinketh of the fountaine Hypanis in Scythia fee­leth hismind so drowned in delight, that no griefe, though neuer so great, is able to asswage it; so Eliosto I conceiue such surpassing pleasure in thy presence, and such heauenly fe­licitie in the sight of thy perfection, that no misery, though neuer so violent, is able to astonish me; no distresse, though neuer so hatefull, is able to amaze me [...]; nor any mis-happe, though neuer so perillous, is able to make me sincke in sor­row, so long as I enioy thy presence, which I account a so­ueraigne preseruatiue against all carefull calamities: that as hee which tasteth of the hearb Hyacinthus is neuer [...] with trouble; and as hee which weareth the stone [...] about him, is surely defenced against all ensuing [...] so enioying the aspect of thy seemly selfe, and [...] [Page 70] eyes with the forme of thy feature, I thinke my selfe suffi­ciently shrowded against all the tempestuous showres of si­nister Fortune: and to proue these my promises to be no fai­ned vanities, but faithfull veritie, I committe my selfe and state into thy [...]ands, to dispose of me at thy pleasure; wish­ing rather to liue with thee in most opprobrious penurie, than to linger heere in most fortunate prosperitie. Eliosto histning attentiuely to this sugred harmony, was so enthral­led with the sight of her sweet face, and so rapt into a trance with the contemplation of her beautie, that as the lion tast­ing of the gumme Arabicke, becomes senslesse; as the bull by browsing on the barke of a juniper tree, falleth asleepe; as the camell standeth astonished at the sight of a rat, so Eli­osto seeing in his armes the Saint whome in heart he did ho­nour, and embracing the goddesse whome with most deep deuotion he did adore, was so amazed, that he was not able to vtter one word, or witnesse of his happinesse, vntil at last, gathering his wittes together, hee beganne thus to re­plie.

Cleodora (quoth he) it is an axiome in Philosophie, that the colour ioyned hard to the sight, hindreth the sence; the floure put into the nostrill stoppeth the smelling; the wine vessell being full, lets passe no wine, though neuer so well vented; the water-pot being filled to the brimme, yeeldeth forth no liquor, though hauing a thousand holes; so where the minde is surcharged with ouermuch ioy, or too much pleasure, there the tongue is both tied, and the sences so re­strained, that the heart is neither able to conceiue the ioy, nor the tongue of power to expresse the pleasure, which Cleodora I now speake by proofe, and know by experience; for I am so drowned in delight by enioying that princely [...]emme, which I esteeme the rarest and richest jewel, not on­ly in Cyprus, but in all the world, so am I puffed vp in plea­sure by thy diuine presence. Yea thy faithfull and vnfai­ned affection, the promise of thy constancy, and the hope of thy loyaltie, the force of thy beauty, and the fame of thy [Page 71] vertue; but aboue all, thy prodigall bountie, in bestowing these heauenly perfections on thy poore Eliosto, so surchar­geth my seelie heart with excessiue ioy, that my tongue not being able in part to expresse the extreame pleasure of my minde, I am with Philistion the Comicall Poet constrained by silence to vnfolde that affection, which in words the si­led phrase of Demosthenes were not able to descipher. But this assure thy selfe Cleodora, that if Iuno would aduaunce me to be Monarch of the world, if Palla [...] would preferre me to exceed hauty Hercules in valour, if Venus would present me with some princely peere of heauenly complexion, yet would I not so gladly receiue their proffers, as I doe grate­fully accept the promise of thy loue and loyalty. No, I doe gladly account the treasure of Croesus to be but trash, in respect of the guerdon of thy good will, I account the for­tu [...]e of Caesar but follie, respecting the fruites of thy fauour, I doe esteeme the dignities of [...] as d [...]egs in respect of thy diuine perfection. Yea Cleodora, I am so sna­red with thy beauty, and so intangled in the trappe of thy bounty, as I shall neuer leaue to loue, nor euer beginne to like any other. It is easie Eliosto (quoth Cleodora) to pur­chase credite where the partie is already perswaded, and to inferre beliefe, where euery word is esteemed as an Oracle. Therefore omitting these friuolous protestations, thus I say touching the purpose. Cecillius Metellu [...] was wont to say, that as it was necessary that olde men should be graue in counsaile, so it was expedient yong men should be se ret in loue; and therefore when the contract was made betweene Fuluius and his daughter, he sealed vp their lippes with his signet, meaning, that to violate the secret conference of Louers, was to commit a second sacrilege. I speake this of Eliosto, as one carefull of thy state: for if Amazias thy father should but once heare of our loue, or suspect our liking, it would breed thy euerlasting miserie, and my eternall cala­mitie.

Dispose of our affaires at thy pleasure, but discouer not our purposes, if thou hast won the castle, vaunt not on the [Page 72] conquest, if thou hast made a good market, bragge not of thy gaines, lest by boasting of thy bootie, thou heereafter be depriued of thy expectation, and in the meane time bee deemed a pratler. And Eliosto, aboue all men beware of Rawcikew, lest vnder the shape of a friend he prooue in time thy mortall foe, lest his fained amitie prooue faithlesse en­mitie, that in trusting too much without triall, thou finde not treason, and then, though thou repent, yet had-I-wist commeth too late, and so thou wish thou hadst neuer loued, and I neuer liked: for his suspitious speculations pretends mistrust, and his praestigious actions discouer infidelitie. I tell thee Eliosto, in the fairest sandes is most ficklenesse, out of the brauest blossome, most commonly springeth the worst fruite, the finest floure seldome hath the best smell, the most glittering stone hath oftentimes the least vertue, and in the greatest shew of good will, lies ofttimes the smallest effect of friendshippe; in most flattery, least faith; in the fairest face, the falsest heart; in the smoothest tale, the smallest trueth; and in the sweetest gloses, most sowre ingratitude. Yea I see that in trust lies treason, that faire wordes make fooles faine, and that the state of such men, is like vnto the marygold, which as long as the Sunne shineth, openeth her leaues; but with the least cloud beginneth to close, like the Violets in America, which in summer yeeld an odoriferous smell, and in win­ter a most pestilent sauour: so these parasites in pros­p [...]ritie professe most, but in aduersitie performe least. When Fortune fauoreth, they laugh, when she frown­eth, they lowre, at euery full sea they flourish, but at e­uery dead neape they fade; like to the fish Palerna, which being perfectly white in the calme, yet turneth passing blacke at euery storme; to the trees in the desarts of Af­frica that flourish but while the south winde bloweth; or to the Celedonie stone, which retaines his vertue no lon­ger than when it is rubbed with golde. Sith then [...] (quoth she) there is such falshood in friendship, and such [...] deedes in such painted speeches, shake both Raw­cikew [Page 73] off, and other fawning curres, with the flagge of De­fiance, and from hence forth, trie ere thou trust. Tush Cleo­dora (quoth Eliosto) he that is afraid to venture on the buck, because he is tapisht in the briars, shall neuer haue Hunters hap; and he that puts his doubt in loue for euery chaunce, shall neuer haue louers lucke. Can not the Cat catch mice, without shee haue a bell hanging at her eare? Can not the Hobbie seize on his prey, but hee must checke? cannot the Spaniel retriue the Partridge, but hee must quest? and can­not we deale so warily, but all the world must wonder at it? Yes, it is a subtil bird that builds among the aerin of hawks, and a shifting sheepe that lambes in the Foxes denne; and he shall looke narrowly that spies me halting. Let my fa­ther, not onely weigh our workes, but our words; and let Rawcik [...]w both deeme our deedes, and diuine our thoughts; and yet I hope we will deale so secretly in our affaires, as neither the one shall haue cause to suspect our familiaritie, nor the other to detect our affection. And therefore Cleodo­ra, lest (if we be spied) the time and place giue occasion of mistrust, I will leaue you as I found you, and so farewell.

Well, these t [...]o Louers plac [...]d thus by Fortune in the palace of earthly prosperitie, floated so securely in the streames of blisse, as they thought no chippes of mischance, might change their present happinesse to future heauines, as long as their priuy meetings were kept so secret to them­selues. But as they which cāno [...] fire in the straw are st [...]ne blind, so hee that cannot see the flame of fancie is a foole. It is hard to couer smoake, but more hard to conceale Loue; which these two louers in tract of time found verified; who as closely as they kept their cloake, yet it was most easie to espie the lining: for fancie secretly restrained, is like the sparke couered with ashes, which at length bursteth into a flame. For there passed betweene Eli [...]sto and Cle­odora, such amorous glaunces, such louing lookes, such cur­teous co [...]gies, such countenances, and such friendly famili­arity, such often meetings, such open salutations, such sighs, [Page 74] such sobbes, and such str [...]nge passions, as not onely Rawcl­kew, but all the Court (though they poore soules thought to daunce in a net, and not be seene) perceiued how entirely they loued, and liked each other. Which thing by Rawci­kew being discried, as a man whose minde either greatly la­bouring with the inconstant winde of voluble promotion, or not a little suffocated with the pestilent sting of virulent malice, vowed the contemplation of their proceedings with serpentine vigilancie. Whose determinate in­tention, by vnhappie occasion of the inter­cedencie of more weighty occurrences, for a season we will not in­terrupt.

WHen the Ambition of aspiring gouernors obscu [...]ed the glorie of the Cyp [...]ian king­dome, and the Maiestie of so famous a Monarchy was rent into pettie Regi­ments: When M [...]cedonia, the nurce of Fa­ctions, was more infected with inward mutinies, than infested with outward ho­stilitie; then Cyprus, still the wonder, earst of immeasurable greatnesse, now of incomparable basenesse; ears [...] the ioy full receiuer of triumphing souldiers, and pompous harbour of renowned Conquerors, now the sorrowfull spectacle of Times in constancie, Fortunes spight, and Honours incer­taintie: More famous for the ruines of her former dignitie, than fortunate in the reliques of ambitious furie, was no lesse troubled with tumults in the wane of her glorie, than in the height of her praise; warring with her selfe, within the compasse of her owne walles; and moist with the blood of men, streaming through the channels, whi [...]h renued the la­mentable memorie of former miseries: but the greatest ex­treames are least permanent. Mars thus rufling in this mar­tiall Isle, was crost by counter-working of some other god: for Cupid grieued that he could fasten no shafts in their flin­tie hearts, whose eares were stopped from loues in [...]icing, by the continuall clattering of Armour, a melodie not fitting his mothers humour; sware solemnly to alter this, or spend all the shafts in his quiuer. Each part wearied with daiely [Page 76] massacres, did for a certaine time conclude a Truce from Armes.

Thus had the wily wagge meanes to effect his strata­geme: The two chiefe of these two Factions, had each a child; the one a sonne, the other a daughter; both so graced with rare qualities of the minde, [...]o endued with perfections of the bodie, that they seemed the mirror of that age, and wonder of their time. To these ornaments was added the f [...]iendly fauour of smiling Fortune, so largely bestowed, that the summe of Aristotles felicitie might seeme to bee in them accomplished. Dihnohin (for so was he named) pas­sing oft in this time of truce by the house of his fathers ene­mie, and viewing Gatesinea, (so was shee called) felt himselfe surprised with a suddaine change; and so long hee carried loue in his eies, that at last it sunke downe to his heart: and his affection was so much the more vehement, how much the lesse his loue seemed possible to be obtained. Gatesinea seeing Dihnohin yong and faire, began first earnestly to looke, then secretly to like; and lastly, so deepely to loue; that as her happe was without hope, so were her passions without patience.

Thus these two louers vnited with an vnknown sympa­thy of affections, smothering their secret thoughts in hate­full silence, liu'd discontent, not knowing how to cure so dangerous a disease. Shee voide of comfort reuealed her loue to her nurce, praising Dihnohin and complaining of her hard fortune, and the vnhappie discord of those two noble families, whose dissention was the onely obstacle of her de­sire. The old nurce, though sorie that her yong mistresse was so affected, yet thinking it impossible to alter her setled resolution, did apply a medicine of comfort, to mitigate the extremity of her sorrow; not vsing disswasions, for well shee knew, that striuing to quench the fire, shee should more in­crease the flame.

But Dihnohin seeking accesse vnto his mistresse, found (for what [...]ānot Loue atchieue) that the chamber of Gatesinea be­ing in the backe part of her fathers house, stood towards a [Page 77] garden, hauing one window looking into a little narrowe lane, through which none, or very fewe, and they very sel­dome did passe.

When Titan hasting to plunge his fierie chariot in The­ [...]is lappe, had gladded Oceanus with his returne, the tor [...]en­ted L [...]uer taking a Lute in his hand, went to the place, which so late he found, and there did in sad melodie sound foorth his sorrowes.

Gat [...]sinea wondring to heare musicke at her windowe, looked out, and discerned her beloued Dihnohin; whose af­fections when shee sawe like her owne, shee was rauished with incredible ioyes, and had presently vttered some signe of her content, had not maidenly modestie, and the pre­sence of her nurce staid her: who perswaded her, that hauing Dihnohin at the aduantage, shee should not so easily offer her loue, lest hee might little esteeme it, hauing so lightly got it. The perplexed Louer repairing oft to his accusto­med place, with more pleasure to Gatesinea, than content to himselfe, resolued in the ende, to make a full triall of his good or badde fortune, and no more to vse s [...]ch dumbe de­monstrations. Comming therefore late, as he was wont, to the window, he tarried till he perceiued by some signes, that his mistresse was come into her chamber, accompanied on­ly with her nurce: then fingring his Lute, and framing his voice, he vtter'd this passionate Dittie, making euery rest, a deepe-fetched sigh.

Scarce had he finished this sorrowfull Sonnet, when Ga­tesinea opening the casement, cast him downe a Garland, compacted of sundry sweet smelling floures, which she had gathered in her fathers garden, making that her afternoons taske. Dihnohin taking vp the fauour which his Mistris had throwne him, and redoubling many kisses on that e [...]e-plea­sing object, departed the happiest aliue, prowde that shee had applauded his humour, and grac'd his conceit with so [...]ire a guerdon. But Gatesinea restlesse in her passions, could not be satisfied, till she had conceiued some possible means of Dihnohins, and her meeting. Loue the whetstone of wit, brought this possibilitie to a plaine likelihoode; and pro­ceeding a steppe farther, made this likelihoode seeme a cer­taintie, and thus it was: she had a doore out of her chamber into the garden, and out of the garden ther was a litle doore that opened into the narrow lane, whither Dihnohin was ac­customed to come, who being that way let in, they might, as she thought, there safely conferre of their loue. This doubt onely rested, how Dihnohin might be certified of Gatesineas deuise; which taske the Nurse vndertooke, promising such care in the deliuerie of he [...] message, that no suspition should thence arise. Which promise she fully performed, and kno­wing that great trouble might grow of that enterprise, if she [...] the enemy of Dihnohi [...]s father, and waiting on his [Page 79] daughter, were seene openly to talke with Dihnohin, she v­sed such warinesse and secrecie, that he was by her cer [...]ified of Gatesinaes purpose, without suspition or discouery of her intent. Dihnohin liberally rewarded the nurse for her lucky tidings, willing her to doe his humble duety to his mistris, and assure her of his diligent attendaunce at the appoynted time & place. The two louers longing for nights approch, thought Phoebus envying their blisse, did slacke his course more than he was wont, declining too slowly. But when a generall darkenesse had ouerspread the earth, and dayes light was eclipsed by Titans departure to the other Hemi­sphere, Dihnohin comming to the garden doore, was let in by the Nurse, and louingly receiued of Gat [...]sinea. What greetings were vsed when the two louers met, they can best conceiue that haue knowne like fortune. But when com­mon cerimonies of curtesie had passed betweene them, they retired into the Arbour, and the Nurse withdrew herselfe from them: there they discoursed their loue each to other, and finding their affections equall, they mutually reioy­ced.

Dihnohin folded in the armes of his mistris, and kissing her at his pleasure, thought himselfe in a second heauen: but presuming to proceed further: Gatesinea, whether plea­sed, or offended with his amorous attempts, I knowe not, halfe in anger thrust backe his hand, saying, that as shee lo­ued him, so she regarded her honour. Whereto Dihnohin re­plied, that hee tendred her honour more than his owne life; protesting that if she would vouchsafe to accept him [...]or hir husband (the onely meanes to establish their loue, and pre­serue her name from blemish) that then there should want in him no endeuours to doe her seruice, with more affection than he could expresse. This fell out as Gat [...]sinea wished, and therefore she graunted that which so much he desired; the Nurse was called for a witnesse, in whose presence Dih­nohin gaue Gatesinea a ring.

Thus were the Nuptials secretly finished, not graced with the presence of Hymen, the President of marriage rites, [Page 80] but thwarted with the fatall influence of some vnluckie Planet, comically begunne, tragically ended, and both in the dreadfull silence of the darkesome night. Thus they beeing Man an Wife, or at least, so seeming to themselues, Gatesinea with her new spouse, returned into her bed-cham­ber, and the nurce departing; both dis-robing them [...]elues, entred in one bedde, and did freely possesse the full frui [...]ion of that, which hee so earnestly pursu'd, shee so willingly granted, and both so much desired.

When day appeared, and Phaebus posting from the Antip [...] ­des, had remounted the Eastern hill, and burnished Heauen with his glittering beames, Dihnohin leauing his mistresse, departed that way by which he came. In this sort they long enioyed each others company, till Fortune, Loues sworne enemie shadowed their blisse, with a cloud of mishap. Dih­nohins father, secing him well growne in yeres, hauing past the spring time of his child-hood, told him on a time, he had prouided him a wife, worthy his better, both for birth and wealth.

Dihnohin astonished at these wordes, stood like one of those whom Perseus with his Gorgons head transformed into stones: but beeing forced to answer, hee told his father that he had setled his fancie, and made his choice in another place: his father furiously demanding where, he fearefully, though with many delaies, reuealed his loue to Gatesinea. The old man beeing in a rage, commanded him forthwith to depart his house; threatening besides, to dispossesse and dis-inherit him. Dihnohin seeing his father in these termes, thought it best to dissemble; and crauing pardon, submitted himselfe wholy to his direction: who glad to see his sonne in su [...]h a vaine of obedience, thought it not good to vse de­laies, but presently dispatcht the mariage, fearing a suddain change of so suddaine a conformitie.

Thus Dihnohins second espousals beeing finished, he fur­charged with sorrow, wro [...]e a letter to Gatesinea, containing a sad [...]ehearsall of that vnluckie accident, imputing all to the [...]orce o [...] his fathers threats, still promising and prote­sting [Page 81] that she only had the possession of his heart; and vow­ing, that no sooner the breath should be out of his fathers body, but he would reiect his new loathed wife, and re­ceiue her, and so ending all discord, ioyne the two facti­ons in one. Lastly, he aduertised her, what time she should exspect his comming. This letter Dihnohin causd to be con­ueied to her by a trustie messenger. Gatesinea hauing recei­ued and perused it, was ouerwhelmed with such vnwoon­ted sorrow, that she swowned presently, and hardly coulde the sorrowfull Nurse recall her fainting spirites: but when she was come againe to herselfe, jealousie the mother of ex­treame hate, turned her teares into threats, and conuerted her feminine anger into flatte fury. Thus resoluing on re­uenge, she awaited a fit time to effect her tragicall purpose. Dihnohin failed not to come at the appoynted time, and be­ing let into the garden by the Nurse, was receiued at the chamber doore by Gatesinea, to whom he made a long ex­cuse of his fault committed, attributing it to the feare of his fathers menaces: she, though griped with griefe, vsed such moderation in hir outward gesture, that Dihnohin could not ghesse her thoughts by her lookes, nor coniecture her pas­sions by her speeches. Night being farre spent, they went both to bed, where Dihnohin desirous to renew his woonted sports, was hindered by Gatesinea, who tolde him that hee should no more haue the fruition of that fauour, till hee had made her a sufficient recompen [...]e for the fault committed: he halfe discontent with this repulse, turnd aside to take his last and longest sleepe; whereinto when he was entred, she perceiuing him so soundly setled, that hee could not easely be awaked, rose vp, and taking a knife which for that pur­pose she had layd vnder the beddes head, shee stabbed him cruelly to the heart, saying thus; Most treacherous heart, the faithlesse harbour of disloyall thoughts, receiue the fa­tall guerdon due to thy deserts, I will not die vnreuenged as Dido, nor liue discontent as Medea, who failed in the sexe, and therefore in the certaintie of her reuenge, Qui fecit pati­tur. That said, she redoubled her bloody stroke, casting a [Page 82] steerne aspect on poore Dihnohin, which lay weltring in his blood▪ What temorceless [...] Scythian, or sauage Tartarian, nourished in the desarts beyond Tanais, could haue beheld so ruthfull a spectacle, and not be pierced with compassi­on? Yet she, whose heart was more impenetrable than the adamant, seemd to triumph in his tragedy, loading his dy­ing eares with reproachfull termes, and accusing him of di­sloyalty: at which word Dihnohin lifting vp his eyes (thogh scarce he could lift them) seemd with a milde countenaunce to sue sor pardon, in the extreamitie of his punishment: but when she still frownd, he fetcht a deepe sigh from the bot­tome of his grieued heart, making that the last period of his loue and life. Scarce had the long imprisoned soule leauing the senslesse mould of earthly drosse, returned to the blisfull harbour whence it descended, when shee the ruthlesse re­uenger of her owne crueltie, did with that knife which de­priued Dihnohin of loues joy, bereaue her selfe of liues com­fort, and inflicting a deadly wound, fell backeward on the bed, fetching a grieuous groane. The watchfull Nurse whose eares were open to this vnwelcome sound, fearing that which was too true, and doubting the welfare of her yong mistris, came hastily into the chamber, where seeing Gatesinea in that pittifull plight, she stoode astonished at so tragicall a chance; yet hoping that the stroke was not mor­tall, nor the danger past recouery, she came to her, endeuo­ring to stoppe the wound. But Gatesinea drawing neere her end, violently thrust her backe, saying thus; Wonder not, for [...]e hath his desert, and I my desire; which wordes being spoken, she gaue vp the ghost. The aged Nurse which did more than heare, for shee plainely sawe (though wishing s [...]ee had not seene) this vnlucky accident, did screech so lowd, that all they of the house awaked by her sodaine out­cry, rose from their rest: and first Gatesineaes father started vp, whose troubled thoughts presaged some future mishap. Nor is it maruell that he did darkely foreknow, though he could not plainly foresee so hard a chance: for as the smoke issues before the fire flames, the lightning is seene before [Page 83] the thunder be heard, the Sea swell before a tēpest arise, so the minde of man, whose continuall motion, is an in­fallible argument of a diuine and immortall essence, droopes before danger. The dismaied olde man slip­ping on his night-gowne, hastened his aged steps toward his daughters chamber; where finding her dead, holding the bloody knife in her hand, and seeing his enemies sonne in the same bed with her, slaine likewise; what hee thought, I referre to those that hauing one only jewell, their liues so­lace, and soules comfort, are thereof depriued by the malice of fortune.

But he distracted with sundry passions, sometimes la­mented his daughters misfortune, sometimes he threatened the trembling nurce, then he bewailed the downefall of his house, wanting an heire, and the extinguished memorie of his name for lacke of succession. The silly woman falling on her knees before him, besought him to deferre his pre­tended reuenge on her, till shee had vnfolded the cause and manner of that sorrowfull euent: which granted, shee rehearsed their loues, meetings, secret nuptials, his second mariage enforced by his angry fathers threats, and her de­sperate resolution of reuenge. This short and sorrowfull discourse thus finished, shee halfe dead with age before, nowe cleane dead with feare, yielded her spirit to him which gaue it. The next morning, when the report of this rare misfortune was bruted through the citie, the streete wherein Gatesineaes father dwelt, was so pestered with the concourse of people, that scarce any passage could bee found. This thus passing for currant newes through e­uery mans mouth, Dihnohins father was soone aduertised of it by the generall rumor; who, though astonished [...] so rare a chance, yet suffered this misfortune with more cou­rage than his yeeres could affoard, knowing that his ene­mies fortune was no better than his owne.

Thus did the parents beare the childrens happe, whose ghosts are nowe mette in the shadie groue of Mirtle trees, fronting the Elyzian fieldes; that dreadfull groue, the e­ternall [Page 84] mansion of those vnhappy louers, which witnesse their loyaltie to Loues hestes, by sacrificing their owne blood, and making their owne bodies oblations: and it was time, for till then his Deitie was despised, his Altars emptie, his Temples not frequented.

But this onely chance did mollifie their indurate hearts, which were before so inflamed with priuate malice, that they loathed publike agreement, But seeing in this infortu­nate couple, the lamentable effects of their dissention, they suddainly left Armes, & ioyning their hands, whose hearts had beene so long disioyned, they let fall their weapons, & embraced concord, the soueraigne stay of common weales. These two sorrowfull fathers, earstfoes, and now by this misfortune made friends, were chiefe mourners at their childrens funerals; who beeing vnited by Loues lawes, had Loues right: for though their mindes were at their deaths diuided, yet were their bodies both in one tombe inclosed. Amazias was not so much perplexed at the information of these tidings, as well pleased, that at length these seditious stormes of ambitious enuie, were through an inuiolable league of amiti [...] qualified, and quietly ended. The King, as hee himselfe thought thus blest with earthly fauours, doubted no misfortune, for he could see no way for him to mishap: nay if hee had beene wise, he might the more haue feared miserie; in that he was so fully pampered vp with felicitie. Fortune, yea fortune in fauouring him, made him most infortunate. Syren-like, hiding vnder mu­sicke, miserie; vnder pleasure, paine; vnder mirth, mourning: [Page 85] like the sugred honie-combe, which while a man toucheth, hee is stung with Bees. Shee presenteth faire shapes, which prooue but fading shadowes; shee proffereth mountaines, and perhaps keepeth promise: but the gaines of these gol­den mines, is losse and miserie. None rode on Seianus horse, which got not some mishap: none toucht the gold [...] Tholos­sa, whom some disaster chance likewise did not assaile: nei­ther hath any bin aduanced by Fortune, which in time hath not bin crossed with some haplesse calamitie. These things the King found answerable vnto veritie, the issue whereof, brought no lesse vnto him, than the vtter ruine, and sud­daine confusion of his kingdome. For Rawcikew liuing in his court, noting (as I said before) Eliostoes entertainment by Cleodora, his more than ordinarie obseruation of dutie, her affectionate opinion of him, and his assiduate repaire vnto her lodging, and his long abode with her; gathered by these circumstances, how that the conuoy of their proceedings, was but for the obscuritie of affection, with whom beyond credit, it was most brutish, and out of measure vnreaso­nable.

Wherefore continuing his vigilant obseruations, in the ende he discouered the very secrecie of their attempts, to the great satisfaction of his blood-thirstie spirits. Nowe (quoth hee) since their sinnes are come to the ripenesse of their abomination, I vowe by that bright Lampe Heauens ornament, that speedie information shall bee giuen to the King, that so their wanton and lasciuious incontinencie, may bee liable to the punishing racke of iustices seueritie: and for this purpose, hee attending the benigne leisure of opportunitie, it chanced as Amazias two or three daies after walked towards the stable, for the viewe of his horse, that then the infortunate Prince, blinded with the folly of impetuous concupiscence, assailed his mother after the inordinate pleasures which haue beene hereto­fore sufficiently declared.

But their Argus which slept not at all, in a furious extasie posting to the king, presently cōducted him to such a place, [Page 86] where he was the perfect spectator of their most vitious & d [...]ested practises. The king hardly moderating the vehe­mency of his rage from breaking the doore vpon them, be­tooke himselfe to his closet, where beeing cumbered with cholerike cogitations, and perplexed with despitefull pas­sions, inflamed with wrathful fury, he fel into these termes. Now (quoth he) I prooue by experience the saying of So­phocles to be true, that the man which hath many children shall neuer liue without some mirth, nor die without some sorrow, for if they be vertuous, he shall haue cause wher­of to reioyce, if vicious, whereof to be sad; which saying by this spectacle I trie performed in my selfe: for I haue but one childe (which should haue beene the inheritour of my kingdome) I see so addicted vnto vanitie, that hee is a fret­ting corrasiue to my wounded heart. For what griefe is there more pinching? what crosse more pernitious? what paine more griping? what plague more combersome? yea, what trouble can torment me worse, than to see my sonne to haue consumed his time in ryot after this manner, folow­ing wilfully the fury of his owne frantike fancie. O that the date of his birth had beene the day of his buriall! or that by some si [...]ister storme of fortune hee had beene stifled on his mothers knees, so that his vntimely death might haue pre­uented my ensuing sorrowes, and his future calamities: For I see that the yong frie will alwayes prooue olde frogs, that the crooked twig wil proue a crabbed tree, how that which is bred in the bone, will not easily out of the slesh, that hee which is carelesse in youth, will be lesse carefull in age, that where in prime of yeeres vice raigneth, there in mature age iniquitie beareth sway. Why Amazias if thou seest the [...]ore, why doost thou not apply the salue? and if thou perceiuest the mischiefe, why doost thou not preuent it with a sublimatum? Take away the cause, and the effect fai­leth; if Eliosto be the cause of thy ruth, cutte him off be­times, lest hee bring thee to ruine, better hadst thou want a sonne, than neuer want sorrow. Perhappes thou wilt suf­fer him so long till hee fall sicke of the father, and then hee [Page 87] will not onely seeke thy lands and possessions, but life and all, if thou in time p [...]euent not his purpose: yea, and after thy death hee will be, through his lasciuious life, the oue [...] ­throw of thy house, the consumer of thy kingdome, the wracke of thy common-weale, and the very man that s [...]al bring the state of Cyprus to mischiefe and miserie. S [...]th then thy sonne is such a sincke of sorrowes, in whose li [...] lies hid a loathsome masse of wretched mishappes, cut him off as a gracelesse graft, vnworthy to growe out of such a Stocke. Alas, most miserable and lamentable case! would to God (as I said) the Destinies had decreed his death in the swad­ling-clowts, or that the Fates had prescribed his end in his infancie; then should not I my selfe haue beene (as I will be) so vnnaturall, as to seeke the spoile of mine owne child; or more sauage than the bruite beastes, in committing such crueltie.

Herevpon Amazias stumbling as fast as he could to his Peeres, reuealed vnto them the whole cause of his distresse, requiring their fauourable assistance in these his determi­nate proceedings. Who with rage incens'd, promising in what thing soeuer, their allegeance: hee commanded that his wife, and Eliosto should be carried to straite prison, vntill they heard further of his pleasure. The Gua [...]d vnwilling to lay their hands vpon their Queene and Prince, and yet fearing the Kings furie, went very sorrowfull to fulfill their charge. Comming to the Queenes lodging, they found her playing with her sonne, and other Ladies, at Cardes; vnto whom, with teares doing their message, Eliosto and Cleodo­ra were astonished at such a hard censure; and finding their galled consciences sure aduocates to pleade in their cases, went to Lymbo most willingly: where with sighes and teares they past away the time till they might come to their triall. Especially Cleodora, who after shee had almost blubbe­red out her eies for griefe, fell at length into this passion. In­fortunate Cleodora; and therefore infortunate, because thy sorrowes are more then thy yeares, and thy distresse too heauie for the prime of thy youth. Are the Heauens so vn­iust, [Page 88] the Starres so dismall, the Planets so iniurious, that they haue more contrarie oppositions, than fauourable aspects? that their influence doth infuse more preiudice, than they can inferre profit? Then no doubt, if their motions be so ma­ligne, Saturne conspiring with all balefull signes, calculated the houre of thy birth full of disaster accidents. Ah Cleodo­ra, thou maist see, the birds that are hatched in winter, are nipt with euery storme, such as flie against the Sunne, are either scorched or blinded, and those that repugne against nature, are euer crossd by Fortune. Thy faithfull seruaunt Lucilla foresaw these euills, and warned thee by experience, thou reiectedst her counsaile, and therefore art bitten with repentance: Such as looke not before they leape, oft fall into the ditch, and they that scorne admonition, can not possibly auoyd punishment. The yoong tygres followe the braying of their olde sire, the tender fawnes chuse their food by the old Bucke. These bruite beasts, and without reason, stray not from the limites of nature; thou a woman and indued with reason, arte therefore thus sorrowfull, be­cause thou hast beene vnnaturall. Better hadst thou beene borne a Beggar than a Prince, so shouldst thou haue bride­led Fortune with want, where now shee sporteth her selfe with thy plenty. Ah happy life, where poore thoughts, and meane desires liue in secure content, not fearing for­tune because too lowe. For fortune thou seest now Cle­odora, that Care is a companion to Honour, not to Po­uertie, that hie Cedars are frushed with tempests, when lowe shrubs are not toucht with the winde: pretious di­amonds are cutte with the file, when despised pearles lie safe in the sands; Delphos is sought by Princes, and not by Beggars, and Fortunes Altars smoake with Kings pre­sents, not with poore mens giftes. Happy are they Cleo­dora, that curse Fortune for contempt, not for feare; and may wish they were, not sorrow they haue beene. Thou arte a Princesse, and yet a prisoner, borne to the one by dis­cent, assign [...]d to the other by despight; accused not with­out cause, and therfore oughtest to die without care; for pa­tience [Page 89] is a shield against fortune.Ah but infamy galleth vnto death, and liueth after death: Report is plumed with Times feathers, and Enuy oftentimes soundeth Fames trumpet; thy detected incest shall flie in the aire, and thy knowne vertues shall lie hid in the earth: One moale staineth a whole face, and what is once spotted with infamy, can hardely be worne out with Time. Die then Cleodora, Cleodora die; for if the gods should say, thou arte guiltlesse, yet Enuy would heare the gods, but neuer beleeue the gods. After that, she had many sighs, and sobs, & most bitter teares, passd ouer many melancholy thoghts; one while seeing death ready to execute the last part of sor­row, another while seeing sorrow increasing; now looking towards heauen, and anone seeing the kinde of hell that she liued in; now reuiuing with a hope of some vnlooked for happinesse, and by and by stroke dead with the despaire of all hope almost whatsoeuer. In fine, so beset with sorrowe, as she had almost no thought of comfort, in the midst of all this misery, throwing herselfe vpon her bed, after shee had laine a while, musing vpon her incomparable crosses, shee tooke penne, and incke, and paper, and as a woman halfe bestraught, wrote this issue of her humour, being indeede a fancie which that learned Author N. B. hath dignifi [...]d with respect.

When shee had ended thus her passion, I meane in wri­ting, carelesly shee left it in her chamber; where-t [...]e Ia [...]lor finding it falne on the floore, as a thing of little account; when he had perused and taken a true copie of it, he secret­ly lost it where he found [...] that if the King knewe her extremities, he would somewh [...]t a [...]pease his furie, and release her from prison Cleodora was not more distressed with dolour, than poore Eliosto was combred with care, to see so strange [...] chance, and so suddaine a change; that he, who of late was a royall Prince, was now a distressed cap­tiue; that his libertie was turned to [...]etters; his dignitie, to miserie; and his happie state, to a most hellish condition▪ th [...]t after floods of teares which fell from his chrystal e [...]es, he burst foorth into these tea [...]mes Alas (quoth hee) what humane creature was euer driuen into such doubtfull cala­mities? what Prince was euer perplexed with such doleful [...] passions? what man was euer crossed with such aduer [...]tie? nay, what wight e [...]er was clogged with the like [...] haue the spightfull D [...]stinies decreed my destruction, or th [...] [...] Pl [...]nets conspired my bitter ouerthrowe? doth per­uerse Fortune meane to make mee a mirrour of mutabil [...]e, [...]r is this the reward that Cupid bestowes vpon his Clients? [Page 91] is euery one that doth fancie, maimed with the like misf [...]r­tune? or is Loue alwaies accompanied with such [...] lucke? Alas, no, for their Loue is lawfull, and mine le [...]d a [...]d lasciuious; their fancie is fixed vpon ve [...]tue, and min [...] [...]pon vanity; they make their m [...]tch wit [...] eq [...]lity, and [...] [...]ar­ket with my fathers [...]: so that I [...]m [...]ike [...]n choosing such chaffer, to chop and change, and liue by the losse; ye [...] to buy re [...]entance at an vnreasonable rate. But no [...] I s [...]e the Sunne beeing at the highest, declineth; the Se [...] [...] at the full tide, [...]bbeth; calme continueth not lo [...] [...] ­out a storme, ne [...]ther is happines had long wit [...]out mo [...]r­ning, blisse wit [...]out woe, weale without [...] ▪ [...] without sorrow. For who o [...] late so floated in the [...]loods of prosperitie as I which now by the sin [...]ster meanes o [...] frow­ning Fortune, am sowsed in theseas of oppression? exalted of late to the highest degree of felicitie, am now driuen to the greatest extremitie of e [...]ill; of late puffed vp with pro­speritie, and now pushed downe with aduersitie; yea o [...] late placed in Paradice, and now plunged in perplexitie Oh E­ [...], if thy f [...]indes fatherly precepts might haue perswaded thee, if their aduices had beene thy aduertisements, and thou hadst car [...]fully kept their counsels; then by their forewar­ning, thou hadst beene fore armed against all mishap and miserie. The force offick [...]e fancie had not then gi [...]en t [...]ee the f [...]ile; Loue had not so lightly procured [...]hy losse, nor the painted shewe of beauty had [...]o soone procured [...]hy de­struction. With that taking a Lute in his [...]nd, vpon a deep consideration of his former follies, and pr [...]sent fortunes, [...] sung this Roundelay, which it seemes his dignitie had bor­rowed of a worthy w [...]iter.

After that Eliosto had vttered this Sonnet in the bitternes of minde, word was brought him by certaine Officers, that the King hauing throughly canuased, with his Counsell, the notorious dislike of his incestuous transgressions, hath found it vnpardonable; and so my Lord (quoth they) you must prepare your selfe for death, for to morrowes light must consummate the period both of yours, and Cleodoraes daies.

I embrace the sentence (quoth Eliosto) most willingly: and now thou Saturnes blacke sonne, do thy worst; for I am altogether vnable to sustaine any longer so grieuous a bur­then as I do. I perceiue that the more with patience I striue to allay the heate of my exulcerate torments, the more the smothered cindars reuiue in quenchlesse flames, flames that Aetna-like boyle in my breast, resembling the horrors of mount Chibelloes fiery rage, which vomites millions of va­pours, and dartes heapes of sulphre from the glowing cen­tre. In a word, when the darke night had ouer-spread the earth with [...]er blacke mantle, Amazias ouercharged with sorrow, could take no rest, but passing the time in brinish teares, lamented the exceeding great folly of his sonne, in that hee woulde after so licentious a manner so desperately precipitate himselfe into daunger; but neyther the ardent [Page 94] perswasions of his Nobles, nor yet fatherly affection could diue [...]t him from his bloody determination. The next mor­ning, the people leauing their lodgings betimes, went to the place where the execution should bee, and there pro­ [...]ded themselues an easie rowme without the [...]; for within them none might stand, (the Nobles and their neces­sarie Attendants excepted:) with them infinit troupes of the assemb [...]ed strangers, hasted to preuent Tuan, who shaking his dewie lockes on the mountaines, posted from the watrie cabbi [...] of Nereus, to bee an earely viewer of these tragi [...]all spectacles. But ere he had measured a te [...]th proportion of [...]is daily pace, the Peeres suted in long sable robes, with wreathes of Cyprus branches, consecrated to Cypar [...]ssus, en­compassing their temples, came forward, and with them o­ther inferiour assistants, clad in their mourning garments, each attending vpon his seuerall charge. Next these came Eliost [...] and Cleodora, consisting of the fairest of both [...]indes, flowrishing in the prime of their youth, and in the [...] ride of their beautie, attired all in long blacke ornaments trailing after them, wearing on their heads, garla [...]ds of odoriferous flowers. Who beeing arriued vpon the scaffold, after the finishing of the ceremoniall rites, yielded vp their liues vn­to the fatall stroke of Iustice.

These two patients beeing thus executed; during the time for the preparation of rich and solemne funerals, they were for a publike obseruation brought into the base court of the Palace, to the great griefe of all the beholders. Af­ter this, the King caused a royall and sumptuous furniture to be celebrated for their obsequies, and with such honour as their dign [...]ties required; whom burying in the [...] of Saint Lawren [...], he erected a stately Mau [...]olaenm to [...]ee the common bedde of those bodies, whose hearts (when they were aliue) were so firmely conioyned together. And lest the [...]e s [...]ould be left any thing [...] in this trag [...]al ac­cident, Lucilla for the vnspeakable [...] of her mist. esse, did [Page 95] drowne herselfe, for whom a stately bath was prepared in euer burning Phlegeton.