WHen the Spring began to appeare like the welcome mes­senger of Summer, one sweet (and in that more sweet) morning, after Aurora had called all carefull eyes to attend the day, forth came the faire Shepherdesse Vra­nia, (faire indeed; yet that farre too meane a title for her, who for beautie deseru'd the highest stile could be giuen by best knowing Iudgements). Into the Meade she came, where vsually shee draue her flocks to feede, whose leaping and wantonnesse shewed they were proud of such a Guide: But she, whose sad thoughts led her to another manner of spending her time, made her soone leaue them, and follow her late begun custome; which was (while they delighted themselues) to sit vnder some shade, bewailing her misfortune; while they fed, to feed vpon her owne sorrow and teares, which at this time she began againe to summon, sitting downe vnder the shade of a well-spread Beech; the ground (then [...]blest) and the tree with full, and fine leaued branches, growing proud to beare, and shadow such perfections. But she regarding nothing, in comparison of her woe, thus proceeded in her griefe: Alas Vrania, said she, (the true seruant to misfortune); of any mise­rie that can befall woman, is not this the most and greatest which thou art falne into? Can there be any neare the vnhappinesse of being ignorant, and that in the highest kind, not being certaine of mine owne estate or birth? Why was I not stil continued in the beleefe I was, as I appeare, a Shepherdes, [...]nd Daughter to a Shepherd? My ambition then went no higher then this [...]state, now flies it to a knowledge; then was I contented, now perplexed. O ignorance, can thy dulnesse yet procure so sharpe a paine? and that such a thought as makes me now aspire vnto knowledge? How did I ioy in this poore life being quiet? blest in the loue of those I tooke for parents, but now by them I know the contrary, and by that knowledge, not to know my selfe. Miserable Vrania, worse art thou now then these thy Lambs; for they know their dams, while thou dost liue vnknowne of any. By this we [...]e others come into that Meade with their flocks: but shee esteeming her so [...]owing thoughts her best, and choycest companie, left that place, taking a little path [Page 2] which brought her to the further side of the plaine, to the foote of the rocks, speaking as she went these lines, her eies fixt vpon the ground, her very soule turn'd into mourning.

In this passion she went on, till she came to the foote of a great rocke, shee thinking of nothing lesse then ease, sought how she might ascend it; hoping there to passe away her time more peaceably with lonelinesse, though not to find least respit from her sorrow, which so deerely she did value, as by no meanes she would impart it to any. The way was hard, though by some win­dings making the ascent pleasing. Hauing attained the top, she saw vnder some hollow trees the entrie into the rocke: she fearing nothing but the con­tinuance of her ignorance, went in; where shee found a pretty roome, as if that stonie place had yet in pitie, giuen leaue for such perfections to come in­to the heart as chiefest, and most beloued place, because most louing. The place was not vnlike the ancient (or the descriptions of ancient) Hermitages, instead of hangings, couered and lined with Iuie, disdaining ought els should come there, that being in such perfection. This richnesse in Natures plentie made her stay to behold it, and almost grudge the pleasant fulnes of content that place might haue, if sensible, while she must know to taste of torments. As she was thus in passion mixt with paine, throwing her eies as wildly as timerous Louers do for feare of discouerie, she perceiued a little Light, and such a one, as a chinke doth oft discouer to our sights. She curious to see what this was, with her delicate hands put the naturall ornament aside, dis­cerning a little doore, which she putting from her, passed through it into ano­ther roome, like the first in all proportion; but in the midst there was a square stone, like to a prettie table, and on it a wax-candle burning; and by that a paper, which had suffered it selfe patiently to receiue the discouering of so much of it, as presented this Sonnet (as it seemed newly written) to her sight.

Alas Vrania (sigh'd she)! How well doe these words, this place, and all a­gree with thy fortune? sure poore soule thou wert heere appointed to spend thy daies, and these roomes ordain'd to keepe thy tortures in; none being assu­redly so matchlesly vnfortunate. Turning from the table, she discerned in the roome a bed of boughes, and on it a man lying, depriued of outward sense, as she thought, and of life, as she at first did feare, which strake her into a great amazement: yet hauing a braue spirit, though shadowed vnder a meane ha­bit, she stept vnto him, whom she found not dead, but laid vpon his back, his head a little to her wards, his armes foulded on his brest, haire long, and beard disordered, manifesting all care; but care it selfe had left him: curiousnesse thus farre affoorded him, as to bee perfectly discerned the most exact peece of miserie; Apparrell hee had sutable to the habitation, which was a long gray robe. This grieuefull spectacle did much amaze the sweet and tender-hearted Shepherdesse; especially, when she perceiued (as she might by the helpe of the candle) the teares which distilled from his eyes; who seeming the image of death, yet had this signe of worldly sorrow, the drops falling in that abundance, as if there were a kind strife among them, to rid their Master first of that burdenous carriage; or else meaning to make a floud, and so drowne their wofull Patient in his owne sorrow, who yet lay still, but then fetching a deepe groane from the profoundest part of his soule, he said. Miserable Perissus, canst thou thus liue, knowing she that gaue thee life is gone? Gone, O me! and with her all my ioy departed. Wilt thou (vnblessed creature) lie here com­plaining for her death, and know she died for thee? Let truth and shame make thee doe something worthy of such a Loue, ending thy daies like thy selfe, and one fit to be her Seruant. But that I must not doe: then thus remaine and foster stormes, still to torment thy wretched soule withall, since all are little, and too too little for such a losse. O deere Li­mena, louing Limena, worthy Limena, and more rare, constant Limena: perfections delicately faign'd to be in women were verified in thee, was such worthinesse framed onely to be wondred at by the best, but giuen as a prey to base and vnworthy iealousie? When were all worthy parts ioyn'd in one, but in thee (my best Limena)? yet all these growne sub­iect to a creature ignorant of all but ill, like vnto a Foole, who in a darke Caue, that hath but one way to get out, hauing a candle, but not the [Page 4] vnderstanding what good it doth him, puts it out: this ignorant wretch not being able to comprehend thy vertues, did so by thee in thy mur­der, putting out the worlds light, and mens admiration: Limena, Limena, O my Limena. With that he fell from complaining into such a passion, as weeping and crying were neuer in so wofull a perfection, as now in him; which brought as deserued a compassion from the excellent Shep­herdesse, who already had her heart so tempered with griefe, as that it was apt to take any impression that it would come to seale withall. Yet taking a braue courage to her, shee stept vnto him, kneeling downe by his side, and gently pulling him by the arme, she thus spake. Sir (said she) hauing heard some part of your sorrowes, they haue not only made me truly pitie you, but wonder at you; since if you haue lost so great a treasure, you should not lie thus leauing her and your loue vnreuenged, suffering her murderers to liue, while you lie here complaining; and if such perfections be dead in her, why make you not the Phoenix of your deeds liue againe, as to new life rais'd out of the reuenge you should take on them? then were her end satisfied, and you deseruedly accounted wor­thie of her fauour, if shee were so worthie as you say. If shee were? O God (cri'd out Perissus), what diuelish spirit art thou, that thus dost come to torture me? But now I see you are a woman; and therefore not much to be marked, and lesse resisted: but if you know charitie, I pray now practise it, and leaue me who am afflicted sufficiently with­out your companie; or if you will stay, discourse not to me. Neither of these will I doe (said she). If you be then (said he) some furie of pur­pose sent to vex me, vse your force to the vttermost in martyring me; for neuer was there a fitter subiect, then the heart of poore Perissus is. I am no furie (repli'd the diuine Vrania), nor hither come to trouble you, but by accident lighted on this place; my cruell hap being such, as one­ly the like can giue me content, while the solitarinesse of this like caue might giue me quiet, though not ease, seeking for such a one, I happe­ned hither; and this is the true cause of my being here, though now I would vse it to a better end if I might. Wherefore fauour me with the knowledge of your griefe; which heard, it may be I shall giue you some counsell, and comfort in your sorrow. Cursed may I bee (cri'd he) if euer I take comfort, hauing such cause of mourning: but because you are, or seeme to be afflicted, I will not refuse to satisfie your demaund, but tell you the saddest storie that euer was rehearsed by dying man to liuing wo­man, and such a one, as I feare will fasten too much sadnesse in you; yet should I denie it, I were too blame, being so well knowne to these sense­lesse places; as were they sensible of sorrow, they would condole, or else amased at such crueltie, stand dumbe as they doe, to find that man should be so inhumane.

Then faire Shepherdesse, heare my selfe say my name is Perissus, Ne­phew I am to the King of Sicilie, a place fruitfull and plentifull of all things, onely niggardly of good nature to a great man in that Country, whom I am sure you haue heard me blame in my complaints. Heire I am as yet to this King mine Vncle; and truly may I say so, for a more vnfortunate Prince neuer liued, so as I inherit his crosses, howsoeuer I [Page 5] shall his estate. There was in this Country (as the only blessing it en­ioyed) a Lady, or rather a Goddesse for incomparable beautie, and ma [...]ch­les vertues, called Limena, daughter to a Duke, but Princesse of all hear [...]s: this starre comming to the Court to honour it with such light, it was in that my blessed destinie to see her, and be made her seruant, or better to say, a slaue to her perfections; thus long was I happie, but now begins the tragedie: for warres falling out betweene the people and the Gen­tlemen, the King was by the people (imagining he tooke the other part) brought into some danger, and so great an one, as rudenes ioynd with ill nature could bring him into, being at last besieged in a strong hold of his, all of vs his seruants, and gentle subiects, striuing for his good and safetie; in this time nothing appearing but danger, and but wise force to preserue mens liues and estates vnto them, euery one taking the best meanes to attaine vnto their good desires. The Duke (father to the best, and truest beauty) would yet bestow that vpon a great Lord in the Country, truly for powerfull command and meanes, a fit match for any, but the wonder of women, since none could without much flatterie to him­selfe, thinke he might aspire to the blessing of being accounted worthie to be her seruant, much lesse her husband. Shee seeing it was her fa­thers will, esteeming obedience beyond all passions, how worthily [...]o­euer suffered, most dutifully, though vnwillingly, said, she would obey; her tongue faintly deliuering, what her heart so much detested; loathing almost it selfe, for consenting in shew to that which was most contrarie to it selfe; yet thus it was concluded, and with as much speed as any man would make to an eternall happines. While of this, and so my mis­fortune, I remained ignorant, till one day the warres being a little cea­sed, though not ended, the siege still continuing, I stole from mine vn­cle to see my heart, which she kept safe with her: but when I came thi­ther, I found, or fear'd I found no roome for it. She who had it, being in the power of mine enemie (for so I accounted him, when he enioyed my losse, my hopes being frustrate, my ioyes lost and spoild, I grew from my selfe, my sences failed me, a trembling possessing my whole bodie, so as this distemper was marked, and pittied of all: but what did comfort me, was, that she did seeme to pitty me. Then did I blesse my torments, that had procured me such a fauour. There were none, but carefully sought my health, especially her husband, whose diligence was as tedious, as his wiues was my onely ioy. Grieu'd I was to stay and see my miserie, yet sad I was to goe from seeing her, who gaue me (though a barr'd) delight in beholding her: but knowing passion the greater Lord ouer my strength, I tooke my leaue, pretending busines, hauing onely taken the opportuni­tie that way afforded me to visite them, passing so neare by them; they all seemed sorry for my going, and Limena indeed was so; then by vn­us'd pathes I got backe to the King, often, as I rode, looking to that place where I left my soule prisoner. When I had been a while at home, remembring, or rather neuer letting the beautie of Limena be absent from me, I say remembring her, and my euerlasting wretched state in missing h [...]r; calling my mischiefe by his gaine to account, I found so much cause to lament, as in short time I was but mournefull sorrow; my friends [Page 6] grieu'd, and generally all did shew displeasure for me, only my selfe found nothing but cause to proceed in this dispaire, loue hauing truly changed me to that most low, and still vnluckie fate. Businesse of State I neg­lected, going about as in a dreame, led by the cruellest of hellish spirits, Despaire, till I was awaked by a command to goe and leade some troops which were gathered by the Kings friends together comming to raise the siege, yet desiring me to be their head. I went, and thus farre wil­lingly, hauing so much hope left me, as to thinke I might by this meanes conclude my afflictions with my end; yet first I resolued to write vnto her, that she might know, she had so vnblest a creature to her Seruant. When I had written my letter with shaking hands, and yet a more sha­king heart, I gaue it to a Page of mine, who was newly come vnto mee, and neuer had been seene in her Fathers house, giuing him besides directions how to carrie himselfe, which he discreetly did obserue, and found as fit an opportunitie as could be wisht: for her husband being gone to see an anci­ent house of his, she walked alone into a little Groue below the place of her abiding; he perceiuing her, knew straight it was she; wherefore he followed her, hauing before hid himselfe in the vppermost part of the thicket, expect­ing occasion whereby to performe his Masters commaund. He then seeing it offered, would not neglect it, though somewhat timerously, esteeming her for her excellencies rather some Goddesse of those Woods, then an earthly Creature: but remembring the infinite (yet not sufficient) praises I had gi­uen her, concluded, it could be none other then Limena; so as comming to her, he on his knees deliuered the letter, saying these words; The wofull Pe­rissus his Lord and Master presented that, with his seruice to her. This (though but little) was more then I could haue said, if in his place: For Lord, how was I afflicted with millions of doubts how it might be deliue­red; then, whether she would accept of it; and most, what she would conceiue of my boldnesse, quaking when I gaue it him, knowing how wretched a crea­ture I must bee, if it offended her, yet wishing I might haue had the papers place once more to haue been toucht by her, though, if it brought dislike, for that to haue suffered martyrdome. But she for my happinesse tooke it, and with a pretty blush read it, which since I perceiu'd did spring from loue, yet blusht to see it selfe so liuely in her cheekes. When she had read it, Good youth (said she) commend me to your Lord: but for his letter, say, It needs no answer till he come himselfe, and fetch one. With this he return'd, and so with much comfort to me, hope being glad to build on any small ground, how much more then on so likely a possibility. I then, Hopes seruant, as be­fore onely slaue to Despaire, made all haste I could to see her, hauing good and welcome meanes affoorded me, being able with conuenience to take her F [...]thers house in my way to the new-rais'd Army. Thither I came, which though in a wild Forest, yet it was pretended, I left the great roads for my better safetie. Thus was a colour set vpon my loue, which but for her ser­uice, and so the safelier to serue her, would suffer any glosse but truth in affe­ction. Being there ariu'd, I was extreamely welcomed of all: her Father, a graue and wise man, discoursed with mee of businesse of State: after him, and so all supper time, her husband discoursed of hunting, an exercise fit for such a creature. Neither of these brought my Mistris from a graue, and al­most [Page 7] sad co [...]ntenance, which made me somewhat feare, knowing her vnder­standing, and experience, able and sufficient to iudge, or aduise in any matter we could discourse of: but modestie in her caus'd it, onely louing know­ledge, to be able to discerne mens vnderstandings by their arguments, but no way to shew it by her owne speech. This (and withall feare of discouering some passions, which she, though excelling in wit and iudgement; yet could not gouerne, at least, guiltines forc'd her to thinke so) was the reason [...]he held her grauitie; yet after she grew more merry. And I finding a fit time by her husbands going out of the chamber, with some companie that was there, humbly desired an answere of my letter. She blushing, and as if ashamed so much innocent vertue should be discouered with my Louer-like importuni­tie in her, though strong in constancie; yet womans affection gain'd so much by lookes, and sweet though-fearing words, as I was resolued, and assured of her loue, which made me proud of such a treasure, begin to dispose part of it to my benefit, for looking about, and seeing euery ones eyes carried their owne waies, I kist her; she, not offended, yet said; Let not my freedome make you dispose otherwise then virtuously of me: I vowed more then that liber­tie I would not aske, which I know, if I had offered, her vertue would haue refused, nor truly would my deere and worthy affection permit mee to de­maund, and this held our loues more firme, when tied by vertue. But not to hold you long with this (which yet to me is some ease for the present, al­though the bitterer the conclusion is that followes). We had as many such meetings as true, or fained meanes could compasse vs, [...]till our miserie was such, as this wild man her husband (whether out of true consideration of his great vnworthines, or proceeding from his froward disposition, I know not) grew iealous (an humour following base minds as readily, as thunder doth the lightning), then had he rashnes to accompany the other, which fram'd a determinatiō, which was soone altered frō that name by performance, that she should stay no longer with her father, but go with him to his own house; this I had notice of, but all that we could doe, could not hinder the accom­plishing his will, and saue her honour, which to me, more deere then mine owne life was esteemed. But the night before her going I came thither, where I found the accustomed entertainement, he vsing me with al shew of respect, which in that kind I embraced; our hearts being as farre from meaning truth in giuing or accepting, as truth is from bare complement, but greatnesse in me made him vse it; and care in me (of my better selfe) receiue it; my heart swelling with hate and scorne, euen almost to breaking, when I did see him. That night I saw her, and but spake to her, so curiously her husband watched vs, yet could he not keepe our eies, but by them we did deliuer our soules, he onely able to keepe her daintie body in his wicked prison. The next day they went, and so went all worth with this odd man to haue her delicacy kept like a Diamond in a rotten box: yet she considering it to be to no pur­pose to contend, where she was miserably bound to obey, obserued him, as well as she could bring her spirit to consent to; yet did he begin for her wel­come to grow curst to her; with her Seruants he first began, finding, or bet­ter to say, framing occasions to be rid of them all, placing of his owne about her, which she suffered, onely contenting her selfe with the memorie of our Loues: yet wanting the true content which was in our conuersation, shee [Page 8] grew sad, and keeping much within, grew pale, her rosie cheekes and lippes changing to wannesse: but this was all the change, her noble heart free from such a sinne. This was but part of her affliction, still vexing her sweete disposition, with speaking slightly of me, and then telling her of her loue to me; which brought her to that passe, as at last I was not named, but she would blush; then would he reuile her, and vilely vse her: but she patiently, and si­lently bare all, not suffering me to haue notice of it, lest it might, as it should haue done, moue mee to reuenge her wrong for my sake endured. Thus it rested, she restlesly bearing all the ills that froward Nature (mixt with pee­uish and spitefull iealousie) could afflict vpon the purest mind; vsing no o­ther meanes, but gentle and mild perswasions, which wrought no more in him, but that still his madnesse increased. Now was his house not farre from the way which I must passe betweene the Campe, and the great Citie of Si­racusa, being one of the chiefe of that kingdome; and which at that time had yeelded it selfe againe vnto the King. I hearing Philargus (for so was this vnwor [...]hie man called) was at his house, with his truly vertuous wife, whom my soule longed to see, I resolued to lodge there that night, not (alas) mis­trusting the misfortune, but coueting to see her, whom more then my heart I loued, or lou'd my heart the better for being hers. So I went thither, where I was by him exceedingly well welcom'd in outward shew, though his mea­ning was contrary, which I should haue found, had his diuelish plots bin rea­die, Iealousie hauing now blinded him to all good nature or iudgement. She poore Lady (poore onely in this fortune) sad and grieu'd, all her smiles turn'd into sighes, and thinkings, which made me feare, and wonder, wondring at the change of her beauty, which yet in p [...]lenes shew'd excellency; and feare I did, lest my absence had offēded her [...] but I was deceiu'd, while I lest thought of the true cause, or could imagine such villanie plotted against so rare per­fections. Desirous to know the cause, I remain'd almost impatient, not ventu­ring to speake to her before her husba [...]d, for hurting her: but he going out of the roome, after wee had supped, either to couer the flames which were ready to breake out in huge fires of his mistrust, or to haue the company fit­ter for him, aff [...]cting stil to be chiefe; his absence, howsoeuer, gaue me oppor­tunitie to demaund the reason of her strangenesse: She sigh'd to heare mee call it so, and with teares told me the reason, concluding; and thus doe you see my Lord (said she) the torments I suffer for your loue; yet do you more torture me with doubting me, who haue no happines left me, but the know­ledge of my faith to you, all afflictions being welcome to me, which for your sake I suffer. Betweene rage and paine I remain'd amazed, till shee, ta­king mee by the hand, brought mee more wofully to my selfe with these words. And yet am I brought to a greater mischiefe; with that fixing her weeping eyes vpon mine, which affectionately answered hers with lookes and teares. I must my Lord (said she) intreate you to refraine this place, since none can tell what danger may proceed from mad, and vnbridled iea­lousie; Refraine your sight? Commaund me then to die (said I). Haue I deseru'd to be thus punish'd? Shall his brutishnes vndoe my blessings? yet this place I will, since you will haue it so, hoping you will find some meanes to let me know Philargus house is not in all places. That I will doe, or die (said she). Miserable wretch (cry'd I), art thou borne to such fortune, as to [Page 9] haue this Lady loue thee, and her vnmatched goodnes to suffer for one so worthlesse as thy selfe? No, no, my Lord (said she) in this you wrong me, and that iudgement which heretofore you said was in me, since if you were vn­worthy then, my choice was vnperfect: but you are worthie, and I worthily chose you; I lou'd you, and constantly lou'd you, and in this doe [...] I best allow of my owne iudgement. I hope that loue is not cleane gone (cri'd I), (my speech by loue directed to say thus), nor will you forget me, though from our most desired meetings, we must be barred. My loue, my Lord (said she) had, and hath too sure a ground to know remoue, I too truly lou'd, and doe loue you, euer to forget it, or to let it haue least shadow of lessening, though vai­led in absence, but rather (if increase can be where all is already possest) it shall increase; Loue liuing best where desert, and sufferance ioyne together; and for witnes of it, take this (said she, bestowing her picture vpon me, which is all the Limenas I shall now enioy, or euer did, more then her lou'd, and best b [...]loued sight. The case was blew, commanding me withall to loue that co­lor, both because it was hers, and because it self betokened truth. By this time her husband was come, who told vs, 'twas time to goe rest. We obay'd: and this was the last time that euer I saw my deere, and most worthily accounted deere Limena: for the next morning I was by day to be at the Citie, and so from thence to returne to the Campe. Thus tooke I my leaue, and my last leaue of vertuous Limena, whose sad face, but sadder soule foretold our fol­lowing harme, and succeeding ruine. For within few dayes after my returne to the Camp, there came a Messenger early in the morning, and (O too early for my fortune) whom I strait knew to be Limenas faithfull Seruant. At first, it brought ioy to me, seeing a letter in his hand; but soone was that turn'd to as much mourning, cursing my hands that tooke it, and eyes that read so lamentable a letter; the contents (nay that it selfe) being this, and the verie same my Mistris sent, and wo is me, the last she ere can send. Vrania read it, while he with teares and groanes gaue the true period to it. The Letter said thus.

Alas, faire Shepherdesse (said he), is this a letter without much sorrow to be read? and is not this a creature of all others to be belou'd? Neuer let him breath, that will not heartily, and most heartily lament such a misfortune. Tis [Page 10] true, said Vrania, reason and worth being companions: but yet I heare not the certaintie or manner of her death, then will I not faile to lament with you. Alas, said hee, heare it of mee, onely fit to tell that storie. After my departure from his house to the Citie, and so to the Campe, the iealous wretch finding my Ladie retired into a Cabinet she had, where she vsed to passe away some part of her vnpleasant life: comming in, he shut the dore, drawing his sword, and looking with as much furie, as iealous spite could with rage demonstrate; his breath short, his sword he held in his hand, his eyes sparkling as thicke and fast, as an vnperfectly kindled fire with much blowing giues to the Blower, his tongue stammeringly with rage bringing foorth these words; thou hast wrong'd mee, vild creature; I say thou hast wronged mee: shee who was compounded of vertue, and her spirit, seeing his wild and distracted countenance guest the worst, wher­fore mildely shee gaue this answere. Philargus, saide shee, I knowe in mine owne heart I haue not wrong'd you, and God knowes I haue not wrong'd my selfe: these speeches, said he, are but the followers of your continued ill, and false liuing; but thinke no longer to deceiue me, nor cousen your selfe with the hope of being able, for in both you shall finde as much want, as I doe of your faith to me; but if you will speake confesse the truth: O me, the truth, that you haue shamed your selfe in my dishonour, say you haue wrong'd me, giuing your honour, and mine to the loose, and wanton plea­sure of Perissus; was I not great enough, amiable, delicate enough, but for lasciuiousnesse you must seeke, and woo him? Yet Limena I did thus deserue you, that once better then my selfe I lou'd you, which affection liues in the extremitie [...]till, but hath chang'd the nature, being now as full of hate, as then abounding in loue, which shall instantly be manifested, if you consent not to my will, which is, that without dissembling speeches, or flattring fine­nes you confesse your shamefull loue to the robber of my blisse: you may denie it, for how easie is it to be faultie in words, when in the truth of truth you are so faultie? but take heede, vnfainedly answere, or here I vow to sa­crifice your blood to your wanton loue; My Lord, said she, threatnings are but meanes to strengthen free and pure hearts against the threatners, and this hath your words wrought in me, in whom it were a foolish basenesse for feare of your sword, or breath to confesse what you demaund, if it were true [...] farre more did I deserue eternall punishment, if I would belye him, and my selfe for dread of a bare threatning; since sure, that sword, were it not for danger to it selfe, would, if any noblenesse were in it, or his master, choose rather to dye it selfe in the blood of a man, then be seene in the wranglings betweene vs: yet doe I not denie my loue to Perissus in all noble, and worthy affection, being I thinke nurst with me, for so long haue I borne this respectiue loue to him, as I knowe no part of my memory can tell me the beginning. Thus partly you haue your will in assurance, that that vn­seperable loue I beare him, was before I knewe you, or perfectly my selfe, and shall be while I am, yet alwayes thus in a vertuous, and re­ligious fashion. O God, cry'd out Philargus what doe I heare? or what can you stile vertuous and religious, since it is to one besides your husband? hath shame possest you? and excellent modesty abandoned you? you haue in part satisfied me indeed, but thus to see, that I haue [Page 11] iust occasion to seeke satisfaction for this iniury: wherefore, resolue instant­ly to die, or obey me, write a letter straight before mine eyes vnto him, coniure him with those sweete charmes which haue vndone mine honour, and content to come vnto you: Let me truely knowe his answere, and be se­cret, or I vow thou shalt not many minutes outliue the refusall. Shee, swee­test soule, brought into this danger, (like one being betweene a flaming fire, and a swallowing gulfe, must venture into one, or standing still, perish by one) stood a while not amazed, for her spirit scorned so low a passion; but iudicially considering with her selfe what might be good in so much ill; she with modest constancy, and constant determination, made this answer. This wretched, and vnfortunate body, is I confesse in your hands, to dispose of to death if you will; but yet it is not vnblest with such a mind as will suffer it to end with any such staine, as so wicked a plott, and miserable consent might purchase: nor will I blott my fathers house with Treason, Treason? Nay, the worst of Treasons, to be a Traytor to my friend. Wherefore my Lord pardon me, for I will with more willingnesse die, then execute your minde; and more happily shall I end, sauing him innocent from ill, deliue­ring my soule pure, and I vnspotted of the crime you tax me of, or a thought of such dishonour to my selfe; I might haue saide to you, but that this cruell course makes me thus part my honour from you; yet can you not part infa­my, and reproach from you, nor me, said he: Prepare then quickly, this shall be your last; My Lord said shee, behold before your eyes the most di­stress'd of women, who if you will thus murder, is here ready: then vnty­ing a daintie embrodered wast coate; see here, said she, the breast, (and a most heauenly breast it was) which you so dearely loued, or made me thinke so, calling it purest warme snow; yet neuer was the colour purer then my loue to you, but now 'tis ready to receiue that stroake, shall bring my heart blood, cherish'd by you once, to dye it, in reuenge of this my wrong reuenge; nay, such reuenge will my death haue, as though by you I die, I pittie your ensu­ing ouerthrow.

Whether these words, or that sight (which not to be seene without ado­ring) wrought most I knowe not, but both together so well preuaile as hee stood in a strange kind of fashion, which she (who now was to act her part for life, or death) tooke aduantage of, and this your cruelty will more ap­peare whē it is known you gaue no time for consideration, or repentance, said she; you deserue no such fauor from me, said he, but rather that I should with out giuing care to that bewitching tongue haue reueng'd my harme, but since I haue committed this first, like faultie men, I must fall into another: Charity, but in no desert of yours, procures this fauour for you; two dayes I giue you, at the end of which be sure to content me with your answere, or content your selfe with present death. The ioy she at this conceiued, was as if assured life had beene giuen her, wherefore humbly thanking him, she pro­mised to satisfie him so fully at that time, as he should (she hop'd) be pleased with it. Away [...]hee went leauing her to her busie thoughts, yet somewhat comforted, since so shee might acquaint mee with her afflictions, for which cause grieuing that I should be ignorant of the true meanes to her end, she so prettily gain'd that little time for the rarest lampe of excellent life to endure. Then called she a faithfull seruant of hers, and the same who brought me [Page 12] the dolefull letter: First, she coniured him by the faith hee bare her, to obey what shee commaunded, and to bee secret; then related shee this soule rendring storie to him, which shee inioyn'd him truly to discouer to mee, by his helpe getting pen and paper, and hauing written that do­lorous, yet sweete, because louing letter, sent him to mee that day shee was to giue her answere, which shee assured him should bee a direct re­fusall, esteeming death more pleasing and noble, then to betray me, who (for my now griefe mixt with that blessing) shee inricht with her incom­parable affection, giuing him charge to deliuer it to mine owne hands, and besides, to stay with mee, assuring him I would most kindly intreat him for her sake, which shee might truly warrant him, being Commandresse of my soule. Hee found mee in my Tent, ready to goe forth; with a wan and sad countenance hee gaue that and my death together; then tel­ling the lamentable storie I now deliuered you. With flouds of teares, and stormes of sighes hee concluded: And by this, is the rarest peece of woman-kinde destroyed. Had I growne into an ordinary passion like his of weeping, sobbing, or crying, it had not been fit for the excessiue losse I was falne into; wherefore like a true Cast-away of fortune, I was at that instant metamorphosed into miserie it selfe, no other thing being able to equall mee, no more then any, except the owne fellow to a cockle shell, can fit the other. This change yet in mee, which to my selfe was so sudden as I felt it not, was so marked by my friends, and by all admired, as those who feared the least, doubted my end; which would it then had happened, since, if so the earth no longer had borne such a wretch,, this sad place been molested with a guest perpetually filling it; and these places neere, with my vnceasing complaints. Despaire hauing left mee no more ground for hope but this, that ere long I shall ease them all, death prouing mercifull vnto mee, in deliuering this griefe-full body to the rest of a desired graue. My Lord Perissus (said Vrania), how idle, and vnprofitable indeed are these courses, since if shee bee dead, what good can they bring to her? and not being certaine of her death, how vnfit are they for so braue a Prince, who will as it were, by will without reason wilfully lose himselfe? will not any till the contrarie bee knowne, as properly hope as vainely de­spaire? and can it bee imagined her husband (who, passion of loue did in his furie so much temper) should haue so cruell a hand, guided by so sauage a heart, or seene by so pitilesse eyes, as to be able to murder so sweet a beauty? No my Lord, I cannot beleeue but she is liuing, and that you shal find it so, if vnreasonable stubborne resolution bar you not, and so hinder you from the eternall happinesse you might enioy. Only rare Shepherdesse (said the loue-kill'd Perissus), how comfortable might these speeches bee to one, who were able to receiue them, or had a heart could let in one signe of ioy? but to me they are rather bitter, since they but cherish mee the longer to liue in despairefull miserie. No, shee is dead, and with her is all vertue, and beauteous constancy gone. She is dead: for how can goodnesse or pitie bee expected from him, who knew nothing more, then desire of ill and crueltie? Thou art dead, and with thee all my ioyes departed, all faith, loue and worth are dead: to enioy some part of which, in short time I will bee with thee, that though in life wee were kept asunder, in death [Page 13] we may bee ioyn'd together, till which happie hower I will thus still lament thy losse. If you bee resolu'd (said the daintie Vrania), folly it were to offer to perswade you from so resolute a determination; yet being so braue a Prince, stored with all vertuous parts, discretion and iudgement, mee thinks, should not suffer you to burie them in the poore graue of Loues passion, the poorest of all other: these inuite mee, as from your selfe, to speake to your selfe; Leaue these teares, and woman-like complaints, no way befitting the valiant Perissus, but like a braue Prince, if you know shee bee dead, reuenge her death on her murderers; and after, if you will celebrate her funeralls with your owne life giuing, that will bee a famous act: so may you gaine perpetuall glorie, and repay the honor to her dead, which could not bee but touched by her vntimely end. Her honour toucht, and toucht for mee? O immortall God (cride he), thou wilt not (I hope) let a slaue liue should touch on such a thought, nor me to liue after it were borne, if not to sacrifice my bloud to wash away the staine. But I pray you since you vndertake thus to aduise mee, how can I doe this, and yet obey my Limena's commaund, in not reuenging her death? Why that (replide the discreet Vrania) proceeded whollie from the loue shee bare you, which rather is another motiue to stirre you, if you consider it, since the danger shee apprehended you would runne into, to right so delicate, yet vnhappilie, iniured a Ladie, and for you iniured, forced her to vse her authoritie for your safetie. But let not that preuail [...], nor hinder a deadlie reuenge for so detestable a fact. Thus shall you approoue your selfe, a braue and worthie Louer, deseruing her, who best deseru'd: but let it neuer be said, Perissus en­ded vnreuenged of Philargus, and concluded his dayes like a Fly in a corner. These wordes wrought so farre in the noble heart of Perissus, as rising from his leauie Cabine, then thus said hee: Is Perissus the se­cond time conquerd? I must obey that reason which abounds in you; and to you, shall the glory of this attempt belong: now will I againe put on those habites which of late I abandoned, you hauing gaind the victorie ouer my vowe. But I beseech you, tell mee who my Counsel­lor is, for too much iudgement I finde in you, to be directly, as you seeme, a meere Shepherdesse, nor is that beauty sutable to that apparell. My name, said shee, is Vrania, my bringing vp hath been vnder an old Man, and his wife, who, till lately, I tooke for my Father and Mother but they telling me the contrary, and the manner of their finding me, makes mee find I am lost, and so in truth, is much of my content, not being able to know any more of my selfe: I delighted before to tend a little Flocke, the old paire put into my handes, now am I troubled how to rule mine owne thoughts. This doe I well credit, said Perissus, for more like a Prin­cesse, then a Shepherdesse doe you appeare, and so much doe I re­uerence your wisedome, as next vnto Limena, I will still most honor you: and therefore, faire Vrania, (for so I hope you will giue mee leaue to call you), I vow before heauen and you, that I will neuer leaue off my Armes, vntill I haue found Philargus, and on him reueng'd my Ladies death, and then to her loue and memory, offer vp my af­flicted life: but first shall you haue notice of the successe, which if [Page 14] good, shall bee attributed to you; if ill, but to the continuance of my ill destinie. But if your fortune call you hence before you shall be found by them, I will imploy (since the world hath not a place can keepe the beautie of Vrania hidden, if seene, then will it not bee adored), they shall not leaue, till they haue found you; nor will you scorne that name from mee, who shall now leaue you the incomparable Vrania. With these words they went out of the Caue, hee straight going to a large Holly tree (the place rich with trees of that kind), on which at his comming to that melancholy abiding, hee had hung his Armor, meaning that should there remaine in memorie of him, and as a monument after his death, to the end, that whosoeuer did finde his bodie, might by that see, hee was no meane man, though subiect to fortune. Them hee tooke downe and arm'd himselfe, but while hee was arming, Vrania entreated him to doe one thing more for her, which was to tell her how he came to that place. And that was ill forgot most faire Vrania (said hee): then know that as soone as I had receiued that letter so full of sorrow, and heard all that miserable relation, I was forced, notwithstanding the vow I had to my selfe made (of this solitary course you haue reli [...]ued mee from) to goe against the Enemie, who with new forces, and vnder a new Lea­der, were come within sight of our Army: I thinking all mischiefes did then conspire together against mee, with an inraged furie went towards them, hoping (and that onely hope was left mee) in that encounter to ende my life, and care together in the battaile, yet not slightly to part with it, in my soule wishing euerie one I had to deale withall had been Philargus. This wish after made mee doe things beyond my selfe, for­cing not only our company and party to admire me, but also the contrary to bee discouraged, so as wee got the day, and not onely that, but an end of the warres: for the chiefe Traytors being either kild or taken, the rest that outliu'd the bloudy slaughter, yeelded themselues to mer­cie, whom in my Vncles name I pardoned, on condition that instant­ly they disbanded, and euerie one retire to his owne home. This done, and my Vncle quietly setled in his seate, in the midst of those triumphs which were for this happy Victorie, I stole away, leauing a letter with my new Seruant, directed to the King, wherein I humbly asked pardon for my priuate departure, and with all the intreates that I could frame, perswaded him to entertaine that seruant of mine, and to accept of him as recommended by mee, and accordingly to esteeme of him. Then tooke I my way first to her Fathers, to know the manner and certain­tie, where I found vnspeakable mourning and sadnesse, her Mother rea­die to die with her, as if shee had brought her forth to bee still as her life, that though two, yet like those eyes, that one being struck in a certaine part of it, the other vnhurt doth lose likewise the sight: so she hauing lost her, lost likewise all comfort with her; the seruants mourn'd, and made pitifull lamentations: I was sorry for them, yet gratefully tooke their mourning: for mee thought it was for mee, none being a­ble to grieue sufficiently, but my selfe for her losse. When her Mother saw me, who euer she well lou'd, she cry'd out these words: O my Lord, see here the miserable Woman depriu'd of all ioy, hauing lost my Limena, [Page 15] your respected friend. Full well do I now remember your words, when with gentle and mild perswasions, you would haue had vs stay her going from this place vnto his house. Would we had then fear'd, or beleeu'd: then had she bin safe, whereas now she is murdred. Murdred (cri [...]d I), O speak againe, but withall how? Her husband, said she, led her forth, where in a Wood, thicke enough to shade all light of pitie from him, hee killed her, and then burnt her, her clothes found in the Wood besmeard with blood, and hard by them the remnant of a great fire; they with such store of teares, as had been able to wash them cleane, and quench the fier, were brought to the house by those, who went to seeke her, seeing her long stay; not mistrusting harme, but that they had forgotten themselues. The rest seeing this dolefull spectacle, rent their haire, and gaue all testimony of true sorrow: then came these newes to vs; how welcom, iudge you, who I see feele sorrow with vs: her father & bro­thers arm'd themselues, and are gone in search of him, who was seene with all speed [...]o passe towards the Sea. Thus heare you the Daughters misfor­tune, which must be followed by the mothers death: and God send, that as soone as I wish, my Lord and Sonnes may meet with that vngrateful wretch to reuenge my miserable childs losse. This being done, she swounded in my armes, my selfe being still in my transformed estate, helpt her as much as I could, then deliuering her to her seruants, I tooke my leaue, buying this ar­mour to goe vnknowne, till I could find a place sad enough to passe away my mournefull howres in. Many countries I went thorow, and left (for all were too pleasant for my sorrow), till at last I lighted on this happie one, since in it I haue receiued as much comfort by your kind and wise counsell, as is possi­ble for my perplexed heart to entertaine. By this time hee was fully armed, which made the sweet Vrania admire him; and if more pitie had lodg'd in her then before, she had affoorded him; his goodly personage and dolefull lookes so ill agreeing, had purchased; for she did pitie him so much, as this had almost brought the end of some kind of pitie, or pitie in some kind loue: but she was ordain'd for another, so as this prou'd onely a fine beginning to make her heart tender against the others comming. Now was he ready to de­part, wherefore they came downe from the rock, when being at the bottome they met a young sh [...]pherd, whose heart Vrania had (although against her will) conquered. This Lad shee entreated to conduct Perissus to the next town, which he most willingly consented to, thinking himselfe that day most happy when she vouchsafed to command him; withall she inioyned him, not to leaue him, till he saw him shipt, which hee perform'd, comming againe to her to receiue thanks more welcome to him, then if a fine new flock had bin bestowed on him. Perissus gone, Vrania for that night draue her flock home­ward, giuing a kind looke vnto the rocke as she return [...]d, promising often to visit it for braue Perissus sake, and to make it her retiring place, there to passe some of her melancholy howres in. The next morning as soone as light did appeare, or she could see light (which sooner she might doe then any, her eyes making day, before day else was seene) with her flocke she betooke her selfe to the meadow, where she thought to haue met some of her compani­ons, but being early, her thoughts hauing kept more carefull watch ouer her eies, thought it selfe growne peremptorie with such authority. She found none come, wherefore leauing the flocke to the charge of a young Lad of [Page 16] hers, tooke her way towards the rocke, her mind faster going then her feete, busied still, like one holding the Compasse, when he makes a circle, turnes it round in his owne center: so did shee, her thoughts incircled in the igno­rance of her being. From this she was a little mou'd by the comming of a pretie Lambe towards her, who with pitifull cries, and bleatings, demanded her helpe, or she with tender gentlenes imagined so; wherefore she tooke it vp, and looking round about if she could see the dam, perceiuing none, wan­dred a little amongst bushes and rude places, till she grew something wearie, when sitting downe she thus began to speake: Poore Lambe, said she, what moane thou mak'st for losse of thy deare dam? what torments do I then suf­fer, which neuer knew my mother? thy misse is great, yet thou a beast may'st be brought vp, and soone contented hauing food; but what food can bee gi­uen me, who feede on nothing but Despaire, can that sustaine me? No, want of knowledge starues me, while other things are plentifull. Poore innocent thing; how doth thy wailing sute with mine? Alas, I pitie thee, my selfe in some kind wanting such a pitie. Then shee did heare a noise in the bushes, looking what it should be, she saw a fierce she-wolfe come furiously towards her: she, who (though a spirit matchlesse liued in her) perceiuing her, wish­ed the beast further, yet taking her wonted strength of heart, and vertuous thoughts together, she thus said; O heauen defend me miserable creature if thou please; if not, grant me this blessing, that as I shall here end, not know­ing any parents to sorrow for me, so those parents (if liuing) may neuer know my losse, lest they doe grieue for me. As shee thus religiously gaue her thoughts, and her last, as shee thought to the highest, the beast running to­wards her of the sudden stood still; one might imagine, seeing such a heauenly creature, did amase her, and threaten for medling with her: but such conceits were vaine, since beasts will keepe their owne natures, the true reason being, as soone appear'd, the hasty running of two youths, who with sharpe speares, soone gaue conclusion to the supposed danger, killing the wolfe as shee stood hearkning to the noise they made. But they not seeing Vrania, who on her knees was praising God, said one to another, Alas, haue we hasted to kill this beast, which now is not for our turne, little helpe can this giue to our sicke father. Vrania then looked vp, hearing humane voices, which she so little expected, as onely death was that she looked for: but then per­ceiued she two young men, whose age might bee iudged to bee some seuen­teene yeares; faces of that sweetnesse, as Venus loue could but compare with them, their haire which neuer had been cut, hung long, yet longer much it must haue been, had not the daintie naturall curling somewhat shortned it, which as the wind mou'd, the curles so pretily plaid, as the Sunne-beames in the water; their apparrell Goates skinnes cut into no fashion, but made fast about them in that sort, as one might see by their sight they were wild; yet that wildnesse was gouern'd by modesty, their skinne most bare, as armes and leggs, and one shoulder, with part of their thighes; but so white was their skinne, as seem'd the Sunne in loue with it, would not hurt, nor the bushes so much as scratch; on their feete they had a kind of shooes, which came vp to the anckle. Thus they were before the Prime of Shepherdesses, who com­ming to them, and saluting them, they stept back in wonder to see that beau­tie, which yet in the masculine they came neere to, then laying admiration so [Page 17] farre a part, as to keepe themselues safe from rudenesse in some kind, one of them began: Diuine creature, pardon this our boldnesse, which hath brought vs thus rudely to your presence, if we haue offended, let our humilitie in sor­row excuse vs; or if this beast we haue kild was fauour'd by you, take vs who are rude men, to serue you in that stead: in the meane time accept our peti­tion to bee forgiuen our fault. Vrania, who had before in their out-sides seene enough to be wondred at, hearing their speech, bred more admiration, she answered them; Your beauties mixt with so much mildnesse and sweet­nesse, might pleade for you, if you had offended, which I saw not: but in ha­uing giuen too much respect to me, the most miserable of women; nor any rudenes see I, but in that beast which you haue so manfully destroy'd: if your habits shew wildnesse, your speech takes away that error; nor haue you com­mitted any fault, if not in sauing mee to liue to greater miseries. The young men then blushing, humbly thanking her, were taking their leaues, when she curteously desired them, that since they had rescued her, she might know the men that saued her, and the aduenture brought them thither. They answe­red; Withall their hearts they would satisfie her demand, but for that time desired to be excused, since they were sent by their old weake father to get some food for him, which when they had done, they would returne to her. She hearing this; Alas (said she), shal you who haue kept me out of the throat of a rauening wolfe, want what I may helpe you to? Goe to your father, I will accompanie you; this Lambe shall feede him, at this time sent of pur­pose without doubt, to cherish so good and blest a man, as is father to two such sonnes: and then may I know your storie and his together. They happy to see so fit a dish for his age, on their knees would haue thanked her, but she hindred them; and so together they went towards the place where hee re­main'd, which was in a Caue vnder a great rock neere to the sea; when they a­riu'd at the place, the elder of the two went in, telling the old man of the faire shepherdesses cōming, and her kindnes to him. Wherfore he sent out a yong maid, who was cloth'd in plaine (but neat) apparrell: of such beautie, as who had seene her alone, would haue thought her incomparable, but Vrania excel­led her; meeting of her, knowing by the youth she was his sister, most sweet­ly saluted her, taking her by the hand, went in, where they found the old man so feeble, as [...]e had but his tongue left to serue himselfe or them withall: and well did it then serue him for the good of the young men, thus beginning to Vrania: Admired Shepherdes, and most worthy to bee so; since the inward beauty of your mind so much excells the peereles excellency of your outward perfections, as vertue excels beauty, see here a poore signe of greatnes, ouer­whelm'd with misfortune, and be as you are, all excelling, a happy meanes to aidean els destroi'd hope of rising; sit down here, and grudge not me that ho­nor; for before the story be ended, you wil see more reason to pity thē scorn, and you my sons & daughter come neere, for now shal you know that, which I haue til this present kept from you, for feare I shuld not els haue held you in this poore, but quiet liuing. They being ready to sit, & heare the story, a mans voice made thē stay, & Vrania intreated (as in lesse danger if seene then the o­ther) to go forth, she perceiu'd a gentlemā of that delicacy for a mā, as she was struck with wōder; his sweetnes & fairnes such, as the rarest painters must con­fes thēselues vnable to coūterfeit such perfections, & so exquisit proportion. [Page 18] He had a mantle richly embroidered with pearle and gold, the colour of that and his other apparrell being watchet suitably imbrodered, his haire faire and shining, so young he was, as hee had but the signe of a beard; Armes he had none, saue a sword to defend himselfe, or offend his enemies, hee came softly and sadly on towards the rocke, but his eyes to the seaward: she beholding him, said; O sweet Iland, how mai'st thou indeed boast thy self for being the harbour of all excellent persons. He whose mind was distant from him, held his eyes and thoughts as at first fixt, beseeching the sea, if shee had Amphilanthus in her power, shee would be pitifull vnto him: after hee had concluded these words, he (whose soule was absent from him) lookt towards the Iland, when his eyes were soone called to admire, and admiringly behold the rare Shepherdesse, who in the same kind of wonder lookt on him. He ra­uished with the sight, scarce able to thinke her an earthly creature, stood ga­zing on her. She who poore soule had with the sight of Perissus, giuen leaue for loue to make a breach into her heart, the more easily after to come in and conquer, was in so great a passion, as they seem'd like two Master-pieces, fram'd to demonstrate the best, and choisest skill of art, at last (as men haue the stronger and bolder spirits) he went vnto her, not remouing his eyes in the least from hers, and with a braue, but ciuill manner thus spake vnto her. If you be, as you seeme an incomparable Shepherdesse, let me bee so much fa­uour'd of you, as to be permitted to aske some questions: but if you be a hea­uenly person as your rarenesse makes me imagine, let me know, that by the humble acknowledging my fault, I may gaine pardon. Alas Sir, said Vrania, so farre am I from a heauenly creature, as I esteeme my selfe the most misera­ble on earth; wherefore if any seruice I can doe may pleasure you, I beseech you command me, so may I receiue some happinesse, which I shall obtaine in obeying you. What I will demaund, said he, shall be such things as you may easily grant, and by that make me your seruant. I desire to know what this place is, but most what you are: for neuer can I beleeue you are as you seeme, vnlesse for the greater wonder all excellencie, should be masked vnder this Shepherdesse attire. For the perfections in me, as you call them, said Vrania, were they not made perfect by so excellent a Speaker, would be of no more value, then the estimation I make of my poore beautie; touching your de­maunds, I will as well as I can satisfie you in them. This Iland is called Pan­talaria, gouern'd by an ancient worthie Lord called Pantalerius, who hauing receiu'd some discontent in his owne Countrie, with his family, and some o­thers that lou'd and seru'd him, came hither, finding this place vnpossest, and so nam'd it after his owne name, hauing euer since in great quiet and pleasure remained here; himselfe and all the rest taking the manner and life of shep­heards vpon them, so as now this place is of all these parts most famous for those kind of people. For my selfe I can say nothing, but that my name is Vrania, an old man and his wife hauing bred me vp as their owne, till within these few daies they told me that, which now more afflicts me, then the po­uertie of my estate did before trouble me, making me so ignorant of my selfe as I know no parents. For they told me, that I was by them found hard by the sea-side, not farre from these rocks, laid in a cradle with very rich clothes about me, a purse of gold in the cradle, and a little writing in it, which warn'd them that should take me vp to looke carefully to me, to call me Vrania, and [Page 19] when I came to sixeteene yeeres of age to tell this to me, but by no meanes before, this they haue truely performed, and haue deliuered me the mantle and purse, that by them, if good fortune serue, I may come to knowledge; inioyning me besides, not to keepe this my story secret from any, since this sweet place intising many into it, may chance to bring some one to re [...]ease me from this torment of Ignorance. It could not be otherwise, said he, since such sweetnes, and peerelesse louelynesse are match'd together. But now, said Vrania, let me know I beseech you, who I haue discouer'd my selfe vnto; Let vs sit downe, said he, vnder these Rockes, and you shall know both who I am, and the cause of my comming hither: Nay, answered Vrania, if it please you, let vs rather goe into a Caue hard by, where I haue left an olde weake man, ready to tell me his Story, hauing with him two of the finest youths, and a Maide of the rarest beauty that eye can behold, and desirous he is to speake, for long he cannot endure. So together they came into the Caue, the graue man reuerently with bowing downe his head, saluting him thus; Braue Sir, for Maiestie doe I perceiue in your countenance, which makes me giue you this title, Welcome to my poore abiding, and most wel­come, since now I trust, I shall dispose of my Sonnes, according to my long wish and desire: sit I beseech you downe, and tell me who you are, that then I may discourse to you the lamentable fortune I and these my children are fallen into. The stranger sate downe betweene the old man and the ex­cellent Shepherdesse, beginning his Tale thus. My name sa [...]d he, is Parse­lius, Prince of Morea, being eldest Sonne vnto the King thereof, which Countrie I left with a deare friend of mine, who besides the vntying band of friendship we liue linked in, is my kinsman, and heire to the Kingdome of Naples, called Amphilanthus, resoluing not to returne, till wee had heard newes of a lost Sister of his, who in the first weeke after her birth was sto [...]ne away, since which time an old man, whether by diuination or knowledge, assured the King her Father, shee is liuing. Wherefore the most braue of Princes, Amphilanthus, resolu'd to seeke her, my selfe louing him as well, or better then my selfe, would not be denied to accompany him: for ha­uing bene euer bred in neerenesse of affections, as well as in conuersation to­gether, it could not be, but we must like the soule and body liue, and moue: so we betooke our selues to the Sea, leauing Morea, passing many aduen­tures in diuers Countries, still seeking the least freq [...]ented, and priuatest pla­ces keeping to the West, for that way wee were directed by the wise man. At last we arriu [...]d in Sicilie, which Country we found in great trouble, warres being broke out againe after the departure of Perissus, Nephew to the King, who had setled the State in good peace and quiet. But their hearts either not fully reconcil'd, or only reconciled to him, after his departure, which as we heard was strange and sudden, being neuer since heard of, they rebelled a­gaine; but we soone appeas'd the busines, setling the King in his seat with all quiet and safety. Then did Amphilanthus and I, though against my heart, part our bodies, but neuer shall our minds be parted, he in one ship, taking I know not iustly what course, but I trust the happiest: my selfe guided by for­tune, not appointing any one place to bend to, was brought hither, promi­sing at our parting to meete at his Fathers Court in Italie within twelue moneths after. But shorter I hope now my iourney will bee, since I [Page 20] verily beleeue, you most faire Shepherdesse are the lost Princesse, and rather doe I thinke so, because you much resemble Leonius, the younger brother to Amphilanthus, whose beautie in man cannot be equall'd, though surpassed by you. When he had concluded, the old man with teares thus said: O Almigh­tie God, how great are thy blessings to me, that before I die, thou doft thus bring the most desired happinesse I could wish for, in sending hither that Prince, who onely can restore our good vnto vs. Most mighty and worthilie honourd Prince; see here before your royall presence, the vnfortunate king of Albania, who in the warres betweene Achaya and Macedon, taking part with Achaya, was beaten out of my country, and forced to wander, seeking safetie far from the place, where my safety ought most to haue been. I came to your fathers Court, it is true, poore, and vnlike a Prince, which sight tooke away so much as pitie; Courtiers, rather out of their brauery, contemning, then compassionating extremitie: besides, your Mother, being Sister to the Macedonian king then liuing, would not permit me any fauour, my king­dome in the meane while spoild, and parted among such, as could preuaile by strength and policy to get shares. When I found my selfe in this misery, with my wife and some few friends we went away, leauing Morea, and al hope of gaining any good in Greece, following what course our stars would guide vs to, we came hither, where it pleased God to blesse vs with these two boies, and this daughter, after whose being seauen yeares old, she died. Yet for all it is, and was a ioy to me, to see of my owne for my posterity, finding that like­lihood of princely vertues (as I hope) shalbe one day manifested, it hath grie­ued mee to thinke how I should leaue them; but now my hopes are reuiued, since I trust that danger is past; your noble, and magnanimous vertues being such, as to take pitie of any, how much more then wil your honor be, to assist distressed Princes? And now may you well do it, since a seruant of mine, who I haue oft [...]n sent thither, to see how things passe, doth assure me, your Vncle is dead, and a mighty Lord being next heire-male, which by the lawes of the country was otherwise, hath got the Crowne, hauing inclosed your faire young cosin, right heire to the kingdom of Macedon, being only daughter to the late king, in a strong tower til she be of age, & then to marry her; or if shee refuse, to keep her there stil, and this is the best she can expect. Wherefore sir, thus you are bound to rescue her: then I beseech you take these two young men into your protection, who till now, knew no other, then that they were meane boies, I not daring to let them know their birth, lest those great spirits which liue in them, should haue led thē into some dangerous course: but still I haue kept them vnder, making them know hardnes and misery, the better still to endure it, if so crosse their fortunes be; or if they come to enioy their right, they may know the better to command, hauing so well learn'd to obey and serue. And most delicate Shepherdes, do you I pray accept of this young maid for your friend and companion, since if you bee the King of Naples daughter, or any other Princes, you need not scorne the companie of the Albanian Kings daughter. Parselius taking the old King in his arm [...]s; And is it my good fortune most famous King of Albania (said hee) to haue it in my power to serue so excellent a Prince? Doubt not then but I will with all faithfull loue and diligence (as soone as I haue concluded this [...]earch, with meeting my dearest friend in Italie) goe into Morea, and [Page 21] from thence carry such forces as shall (with my other friends I will ioyne with me) restore you to your right, and pull downe that Macedonian Vsur­per, were it but for wronging you. But since I haue so faire an occasion to reuenge such iniuries offered so vertuous a Prince as your selfe, in keeping a kingdome, and vsurping another from his rightfull Queene, I am doubly bound: your sonnes I accept to bee my companions, and as brothers to me will I be carefull of them; the like did Vrania promise for the young Lady. Then the old king before ouer-charged with sorrow, was now so rauish­ed with ioy, as not being able to sustaine, bursting into flouds of kind teares, and his soule turn'd into a passion of ioy vnsupportable, being onely able to kisse the Prince Parselius and Vrania, imbracing, blessing, and kissing his children, giuing them charge faithfully and louingly to obserue [...] and loue that braue Prince, and sweet Shepherdes, like a child for quiet ending, gaue vp the ghost in their armes he best did loue. Great sorrow was made among them for his death; but then growing almost night, Vrania for that time went home, leauing the three to attend the Kings body till the next mor­ning, directing Parselius to the sad abiding of the perplexed Perissus, pro­mising to come to the Caue by Sunne rising to dispose of all things.

Vrania being come home, little meate contented her, making haste to her lodging, that there shee might discourse with her selfe of all her afflictions priuately, and freely, throwing her selfe on her bed, she thus beganne: Alas, Vrania, how doth miserie loue thee, that thus makes thee continuallie her companion? What is this new paine thou feel'st? What passion is this thy heart doth entertaine? I haue heard my ima­gined Father, and many more, talke of a thing called Loue, and de­scribe it to be a delightfull paine, a sought, and cherish'd torment, yet I hope this is not that: for [...]laue am I enough already to sorrow, no neede haue I then to be oppressed with passion: Passion, O passion! yet thou rulest Me. Ignorant creature to loue a stranger, and a Prince, what hope hast thou, that because thou art not knowne, thou shouldst be knowne to loue in the best place? I had rather yet offend so then in a meane choice, since if I be daughter of Italy, I chose but in mine owne ranke, if meaner, ambition is more noble then basenesse. Well then, if I doe loue, my onely fault is in too soone louing; but neither in loue, nor choice: Loue pleade for me, since if I offend, It is by thy power, and my faults must, as made, be salu'd by thee. I confesse, I am wonne, and lost, if thou, braue Prince, pittie not, and saue me. Sweet Chastity, how did I loue, and honor thee? Nay, almost vowe my selfe vnto thee, but I haue fail'd, Loue is the more powerfull God, and I was borne his subiect: with that she rose vp and went to the window to see if it were day, neuer know­ing before, what it was to wish for any thing (except the knowledge of her selfe) now longs for day, watches the houres, deemes euery minute a yeare, and euery houre an Age, till she againe inioy'd Parselius sight, who all that night tooke as little rest; hope, loue, and feare so vexing him, and tyrannizing ouer him, as sleepe durst not close, nor seaze his eyes to any the least slumber, all his content being in thinking on Vrania; wishing from his soule shee were the lost Princesse, that then they might happily inioy; which wish by loue was chid, since loue was able in him to make [Page 22] her great enough, and those wishes were but to adde to that which ought to be so perfect, as it selfe should of it selfe be sufficient to make happines, which is the greatest greatnes. Then did he resolue, whatsoeuer she was, to make her his Wife; his Father, Country, Friend, and all must loue Vrania. Thus all must yeeld to her, or lose him already yeelded. Hee whose youth and man­like conuersation scorn'd the poore name and power of loue is now become his Bondman, cries out on nothing but Vrania; thinks of nothing, hopes for nothing, but the gaine of her perfections to his loue: accusing this night for spitefully being longer then any other that euer he knew, affection and desire making it appeare tedious vnto him, and why? because it kept Vrania from him. O (would he say) how happy wert thou Parselius to land on this shore, where thou hast gaind the Goddesse of the earth to bee thy Mistris, Vrania to be thy loue? But then would a louers feare take him, making him trem­blingly sigh and say; But if she should not loue again, wretch of all men, what would become of thee? Courage then ioyning with hope, would bring him from that sad despaire, giuing him this comfort; Yet sure (said he) her heart was not fram'd of so excellent temper, her face of such beauty, and her selfe wholly made in perfectnesse, to haue cruelty lodged in her: No, shee was made for loue, then she must loue; and if so, pity will claime some part; and if any, or to any, who more deserues it then my selfe, who most affecteth her [...] With that he went to the mouth of the rocke, from whence he might disco­uerall the plaines, carefully and louingly beholding them: You blessed Plaines (said he) which daily haue that treasure, which the rest of the world wanting, confesseth sence of pouerty; dull earth, ignorant of your riches, nei­ther knowing, nor caring how to glory sufficiently for bearing, and continu­ally touching such perfections, why dost not thou with all excellencies striue to delight her? sending forth soft and tender grasse, mixt with sweetest flowers when she will grace thee, suffering thee to kisse her feete as shee doth tread on thee? but when she lies on thee, dost thou not then make thy selfe delicate, and change thy hardnes to daintines and softnes? Happy, most hap­py in her sweet weight; and yet when she doth leaue thee do not the flowers vade, and grasse die for her departure? Then hee perceiu'd her comming a farre off downe the plaines, her flocke some feeding but most leaping, and want only playing before her. And well may you doe this most lucky flocke (said hee) hauing such a Commandresse, and so faire a Guardian: well doth ioy become you, shewing you sensibly doe know the blessing you in­ioy. But what will you doe when she shall leaue you? leaue this pleasure, pine, starue, and die with so great miserie. Alas I pity you, for such a change will bee. And what wilt thou, sweet Iland, doe? let in the sea, be drown'd, and lose thy pleasant solitarines. Hauing thus said, he left the desolate rock, and went to meete her, who with equall loue and kindnesse met him; such indeed was their affection, as can be expressed by nothing but it selfe, which was most excellent. When the first passion was past, which ioy gouern'd for sight, loue taking the place of speech: Ah Vrania (said he); how did the Sun show himselfe in his brig [...]te [...]t and most glorious habits to entertaine thee in these meades, coueting to win thy fauour by his richnesse triumphing in his hope of gaine? What mou'd thy sight then in my soule? Think you not it grew to rauishing of my sences? The Sunne (said she) shin'd (mee [Page 23] thought, most on you, being as if so fond, as he did giue himselfe to be your seruant, circling you about, as if he meant, that you should be the body, and himselfe serue for your beames. With that he tooke her hand, and with an affectionate soule kissed it, then went they together to the Caue where the two yong sauage Princes, and their Sister attended them: then did they priuately bury the old King, promising (if businesses went well, that they by Parselius fauour might recouer their right) to fetch his worthy body, and lay it with the other famous Kings of Albania.

This being agreed vpon they went out of the Caue, Steriamus and Selarinu (for so the yong Princes were called) went first in their sauage habits, which they resolued to weare till they came where they might fit themselues with apparell, and Armes befitting their Estates: Parselius then promising to knight them: Next after them went the Morean Prince leading Vrania, and she holding Selarina by the hand. Being come into the Plaine, Parselius againe speaking to Vrania, vrged the likely-hood of her being the lost Princesse, be­sides, assuring her, howsoeuer, of no lower an Estate if she would goe with him. She made him this answer. A Prince, said she, can demand or pro­mise but Princely things; I beleeue you to be so, because you say so; and that face, me thinkes, should not dissemble, out of this I credit you, and so consent to goe with you; then nobly and vertuously, as I trust you, dispose of me. He casting vp his eyes to Heauen, Let me, nor my attempts pro­sper, said he, when I breake faith and vertuous respect to you; now let vs to the Ship. Nay, I beseech you first, said shee, permit me to take my leaue of my good friends, and formerly supposed Parents, lest my absence bring their death, if ignorant of my fortune: besides, wee will carry the mantle and purse with vs. He soone agreed vnto it, and so together they went to the house, the late abiding of the matchlesse Shepherdesse, where they found the good old folkes sitting together before the doore, expecting the returne of Vrania. But when they saw her come so accompanied, they wondred at it; and though poore, yet were they ciuill, wherefore they went towards them, and hearing by the faire Shepherdesse who the Princes were, kneeled downe, and would haue kissed the hand of Parselius: but he who respected them for their care of Vrania, would not permit them to doe so much reuerence, lif­ting them vp, and imbracing them, told them the same story of his trauell, and cause thereof, as he had done to Vrania, and then concluded, that the likeli­hood of her being that sought for Princesse, was the reason why they agreed to goe together, he promising to conduct her safely into Italy, and if she pro­ued the Princesse, to deliuer her to her father, which verily he beleeued he should doe; and seldome doe mens imaginations in that kind faile, especially hauing so good grounds to lay their hopes vpon. The old folkes sorry to part with Vrania, yet knowing she was not ordain'd to tarry with them, would not seeme to contradict their wills: wherefore fetching the mantle and purse with the little writing deliuered them to Vrania, whose good disposition was such, as she could not refraine from teares when shee parted with them, they wishing their age would haue permitted them to haue attended her, but being feeble it was not for them to trauell, especially to go so vncertaine a iourney, but in their place they desired their daughter might serue her; which she willingly consented to.

[Page 24]Thus euerything concluded, they tooke their leaues, and way to the Ship, which they found where Parselius had left her, but not as hee had parted from her; for much more company was in her, and a strange encounter, he found his Seruants Prisoners, his Armes possess'd, and all his goods in the hands of a Pirat: yet had he gouern'd it so, as this mis-aduenture was not dicouer'd till they were aboord. Parselius alone in regard of his com­pany and some women, would neuerthelesse, haue ventured his life to haue kept Vrania free, such was his loue, by none to be surpassed: his compassi­on likewise was great on the other Princesse; in himselfe, feeling the iust cause, as he thought, they had to mistrust him, and his promises to be value­lesse, this accident being the first of their hoped for ioyes.

But shee, whose truth in beliefe would not permit her to haue the least part of suspition to enter, much lesse, lodge in her breast against him, hin­dered that braue (but doubtfull) attempt, vsing these speeches to him.

Be satisfied, my dearest friend, said she, and hazard not your selfe in this kinde, seeking to alter what is ordain'd by Fate, and therefore not to be changed: but rather giue vs example, as confidently, and mildly to suffer this aduersity, as happily we might haue enioyed the other we expected. He onely with a languishing, but (to her) louing looke, answer'd her, when the Pirat, contrarie to their expectation, came, and kneeling downe before Vrania, vsed these words.

Let not, fairest Princesse, this accident trouble you, since your imprison­ment shall bee no other then the command of mee, and mine: neither most noble Sir, be you, or these other offended [...] for sooner will I doe vio­lence on my selfe then any way wrong those that come with this Lady: Bee patient, and you shall soone see, the cause of my taking this no­ble prey; this said, he rose, and placing them all on fine seats in the Cabine, where lately the Prince had sate free from both the bands of loue, and im­prisonment, himselfe sitting before them began his discourse in this manner (while the ship vnder saile was guided the way which he directed the Pilar) My name (said he) is Sandringall, borne and bred in the land of Romania, be­ing seruant to the King thereof: this King liued long as one may say, the fa­uorite of fortune, being blest in his gouernment with peace, and loue of his people, but principally happy in two children, a son, and a daughter, yonger by some yeares then her brother, he being called Antisius, and she Antisia; promising in their youthes all comfort to succeed in their age: but destinie herein commanded, disposing quite other waies, and thus it was. The King my Master hauing in his youth been a braue and valiant Prince, giuing him­selfe vnto the seeking and finishing aduentures, a strict league of friendship grew betweene him, and the King of Achaia, for whose sake he left his coun­try, with a great army assisting him against his Macedonian [...]nemie: after re­turning with honor and content, the Achaian King gratefull for such a cur­tesie, being growne in yeares, sent Embassadours to demand his daughter in marriage for his sonne, and withall to haue the Princesse sent vnto him, to be brought vp together, to the end, that conuersation (a ready friend to loue) might nurse their affections so wel, as she might as contentedly be his daugh­ter, as it was affectionately desired of him. His sonne, as towardly a Prince as those parts had, called Leandrus, with whom few Christian Princes will [Page 25] compare, except the two Cousens Parselius and Amphilanthus: but to my dis­course. My Master soone consented to the Achayan kings demand, which al­though for the farnesse of the country he might haue refused; yet the neere­nes of their loues was such, as he could not deny him, or his request, resoluing instantly to send the one halfe of his happinesse to his old friend; and for this end he sent for me, but herewithal begins my miserie, caused by my treache­rie, which heartily I repent, and am ashamed of. I being arriued at his Court, out of an ancient confidence which he had of my loialtie to him, committed this charge vnto me, to see his Antissia carefully conducted and deliuered to the king of Achaya: giuing me directions, and counsel how to carry my selfe; besides sole authority and power in this embassage. Thus we departed, my wife attending on her person; accompanied we were with most of the nobi­lity, their loues being such, as they parted not til they saw the yong Princesse shipp [...]d. Couetousnes (a dangerous sin in this time) bred in my wife (seeing the infinite riches the father had sent with his child); her perswasions besides (or rather ioyn'd to the diuelish sense of gaine) made me consent to detesta­ble wickednes. Led by this wicked subtilty, we resolu'd not to take our way to Achaya, but to put in to some Island, there to sell the Iewels, and leaue the Princesse in a religious house, not to bee knowne while her deare Parents should esteeme her lost, we vsing the gaine to our owne profits. More cun­ningly to carry this, we sent a seruant of ours before into the ship, with such prouision as our plot required, towards night, the sweete young Lady embarqued, with beliefe to go into Achaya; we purposing nothing lesse: for in the dead time of the night wee set the ship on fire, hauing before (when most slept) conuaide the treasure into the long boate: then with as much a­masement as any (nothing like the bellows of that fuell) I tooke the Princesse in mine armes leaping into the boate, calling to my wife to follow me, with­all cutting the cord, lest others should leape in: she leaped, but short, her fin so heauy drowning her, and my trusty seruant, with al the knights, in number twenty, and the Ladies sent to attend Antisia were drown'd, or burnd, or both. Then play'd I the waterman, making towards the next shore we could discouer; day breaking gaue vs sight of one, yet only for flattring hope to play withall, not to be enioy'd, for instantly were we set on by rouers, who kept about these coasts. The Princesse they tooke from me, and all the treasure, leauing me in the boate, and towing it by the ship in the midst of the sea, left mee with bread and water for two dayes, but without oare, sayle, or hope; yet such, and so fauourable was my destinie, as within that time a Pirat scou­ring the seas tooke mee vp, who not long after was set vpon by another. But then did the first arme me to serue him, which in gratitude I did, and so well defended him, as we had the victorie by the death of the other, slaine with my hand: for requitall hereof, he bestowed the new won Barke vpon mee, and men to serue me. Glad was I of this, hauing meanes to search for the Princesse, which I vowed with true and humble repentance to performe, ne­uer giuing ouer, till I had found the lost Antisia, or ended my life in the ser­uice. And this is the reason I took you, for hauing landed here, and by chance seene you, I straight remembred your face, wherefore I determin'd by some way or other to compasse the meanes to get you before my parting hence; and had not this happy occasion befalne mee, some other had not failed [Page 26] to atchiue my purpose. Then tell me where haue you been these ten yeeres [...] for so long it is since you were lost: and with all I beseech you let my sub­mission and repentance gaine my pardon. Truly (said Vrania) you haue told so ill a tale, as if I were the lost Princesse, I should scarce forget so great an in­iury: but satisfie your selfe with this, and the hope of finding her, while you haue in your power one, who (alas) is lost too. The Pirat at this grew much troubled and perplext, for so vnaduisedly hauing discouered his former ill: thus they remaind, the Pirat vext, Vrania grieu'd, Parselius in soule tormen­ted, the others moued as much, as respect in them to the other two, could moue in noble minds, least, or not at all, thinking of themselues, in compari­son of them: all sitting with armes cross'd, and eyes cast downe vpon the earth, except the Pirat, whose mind was busied with higher thoughts, none knowing to what end they would haue ascended, had not a voice awaked them, which came from a Sayler, who bad them prepare. This called not the rest from their sorrow, nor moued Vrania so much as to heare it, who sate not tearelesse, though speechles, while her sighes accompanied the wind in loud blowing. Sandringal looking forth, saw the cause of the cry proceeded from the sight of the great Pirat of Syracusa, whose force was therabouts too well knowne: then did he take his armes, deliuering Parselius his own into his hands, intreating his aide. Parselius lifted vp his eies, and as he raised them, he placed them on Vrania, as the sphere where they alone should moue, vsing these words: Now haue we some hope, since once more I possesse my armes: those (in shew) sauage youths helping him. By this time was the other ship come to them, when there began a cruell fight betweene them: being grap­led, Parselius encountred the chiefe Pirat, Sandringal a blacke Knight, who was so strong and valiant, as Sandringal gaind much honour so long to hold out with him. Parselius kild his enemy, when at that instant the black Knight strake the head of Sandringal from his shoulders; which Parselius seeing, Farewel Sandringal (said he), now are Antissia and Leandrus well reueng'd for thy treason. With that the black Knight commanded his part to bee quiet, himselfe throwing downe his sword, and pulling of his helme, ran and imbra­ced Parselius, who knowing him to be Leandrus, with as much affection held him in his armes: thus was the busines ended, all growing friends by their ex­ample. Then were al the prisoners brought forth of both the ships, amongst whom he knew one to be the Squire of his deare friend and Cousen, Amphi­lanthus, and two Gentlemen who had mortall hatred (as it did appeare) one vnto the other: for no sooner came they together, but they would haue buf­feted each other, wanting weapons to doe more; the one of them Leandrus tooke into his custody, while the other began his story thus. My Lords (said he) first let me beseech pardon for this rudenes; next, claime iustice on this villaine, who hath not only wrong'd me, but in his vnmannerly discourse in­iur'd the brauest Christian Princes; and that you may know the truth, giue me liberty to speake this to you. My name is Allimarlus, borne in Romania, and Page I was vnto the King thereof; but being come to mans estate, and so much knowledge, as to see and commiserate my Masters misery, which had the floud from two springs; the first was the losse of his daughter Antissia, be­ing sent vnder the conduct of his faithfull (as he esteemed) seruant Sandringal (who so well hee trusted, as hee would haue ventured his life in his hands; [Page 27] which appeared in putting the faire Antissia in his power, who as himselfe he loued) to be deliuered to the King of Achaia, desiring a match betweene her and the kings sonne, called the hopefull Leandrus; but in the way the ship was spoild by an vnlucky fire, and she (as it was coniectured) lost, which since proued otherwise, not being swallowed by the vnmercifull sea, but betraide by her Guardian, and stolne againe from him by Rouers; since which time little newes hath been heard of her, sauing hope of her liuing. The other, and greater affliction was, and is, a wicked woman he hath made his wife, after the death of his vertuous Queene, who died as soone as shee had seene her wor­thily beloued Sonne Antissius blessed with a Sonne, whom they called after his owne name, who hauing indured a long and paineful search for his Sister, at his returne tooke a sweet and excellent Lady, called Lucenia to wife; who, though she were not the fairest, yet truly was she beautifull, and as faire as a­ny in goodnesse, which is the choisest beauty. But this second marriage made them first know miserie, the king old, and passionately doting on her: shee young, politique and wicked, being the widow of a Noble man in the Coun­trie, whose beastlines and crueltie cost the Prince his life, and bred the ruine of the State, as I haue since my departure from thence, vnderstood by a Knight of that Country. But to my discourse: The King one day after hee had banished his sonne Antissius the Court, and by her damnable counsell put such iealousie into his head, as hee now feared and hated him, that once was three parts of his ioy. This and the losse of his other comfort Antissia, did so perplexe him, as one day being at dinner, he began with teares to speake of Antissius, blaming his vnnaturalnesse to him in his age, who had so tenderly and louingly cherished his youth: but little of that she would suffer him to discourse of, lest his deserued pitie might haue hindred her ends, and so her plots haue faild, or been discouered. Then spake he of his young friend and once hoped for son Leandrus, who in search of Antissia, was said to be slaine, by reason that his Squire return'd to the Court (after long seeking his Lord, who by misaduenture hee had lost), bringing his armour shrewdly cut and battered, which he had found in a meadow, but no newes of his Master; only this probabilitie of his losse a country fellow gaue him, telling him, that gal­lant men in gay armours had not farre off performed a gallant fight, wherein some were killed, and one Knights body carried thence by a Lady, who fol­lowed the Knight, hauing but one more with her, whither they went, or more of the matter, he could not tell. With this and the armour he return'd to the old King, who the kindest of fathers, did accordingly suffer for this too likely disaster. From that he fell to the last and first of his misfortune, spea­king of Antissia, and bewailing her losse: concluding, How miserable am I of all men, that doe liue to lament for these many afflictions? one child dead by his liuing vndutifulnes, the other lost by treachery in a man I most trusted; and to be besides, the occasion to bereaue my dearest friend of his only com­fort, which as one of my equall sorrowes I esteeme. I seeing his vexati­on, and iust cause of mourning, offered my best seruice in seeking the Prin­cesse, who not being dead, I might hope to find, and bring some content vnto his age. Hee hearing mee say this, fell vpon my necke, kissing my forehead, and yet weeping so, as they resembled the watry and parting kisses the sweet Riuers giue the sweeter bankes, when with ebbing they must [Page 28] leaue them: so did his teares, so did his kisses on my face, both meet and part; at last his ioy-mixt sorrow let him speake these words: And wilt thou O Al­limarlus doe this for me? shall I yet find so true a friend? a seruant, and a faithfull one (said I) who will not liue, if not to serue you, and so my faith to liue in me. Then he tooke me vp in his armes, and calling for a sword of his, which he had worne in most of his aduentures, gaue that with the honour of Knighthood to me; then kissing his hands and the Queenes, I took my leaue. He, though glad to find my loyaltie, and hoping to heare some newes of his daughter, yet was sorry to part with me: so few were left that he could trust, his kind wife hauing taken care that her Minions and fauorites should most attend his person.

Long time was I not landed in Greece, in that part called Morea, before I met an old man, who told me something of the Princesse, but nothing of her certaine aboad: yet I reioyced to heare of her, not doubting but to bring her to delight her grieued father, who neuer indeed tasted of true happinesse since her losse, that being the thread to his succeeding miseries. That old man likewise told me, I was in my way of finding her, if I held on to Laconia. I earnestly desired his company, which he affoorded me, and so we went to­gether, resoluing still to enquire, and to leaue no likely place vnsought in all Greece, till we had found her. A prettie space we thus continued, the old man passing away the time with good discourse, which made the way seeme shorter, telling me many aduentures which had befalne him in his youth, ha­uing led the life that most braue spirits vse; but one I best remember (being his owne story, the place wherein we then were producing it), it was this, and in truth worthy of note. Whatsoeuer I now, faire Knight, (said he) ap­peare to be, know I am in birth quite contrary: poore, and alone now, once a Duke, and one of the mightiest, richest, ancientest, and sometimes happiest of these parts; this countrie wherein you are, being mine, onely subiect in ho­mage to the famous King of Morea; my education had been most in the court; my time, some spent there, some time abroad: but weary at last of either, as a hound wil be, who neuer so wel louing hunting, wil at last take rest: so did I lie downe at mine owne home, determining to end my daies in quiet plente­ousnes, taking my own delight; to adde vnto which, I brought with me a ver­tuous Lady, and such a one, as might for goodnes equal any of her ranke, and truly not vnbeautifull: yet so much was I besotted on a young man, whom I had vnfortunatly chosen for my companion, as at last all delights & pastimes were to me tedious and lothsome, if not liking, or begun by him. Nay, my wiues company in respect of his, was vnpleasing to me. Long time this conti­nued, which continuance made me issue-les, wherfore I made him my heire, giuing him all the present honor I could in my own power, or by the fauor of the king (who euer grac'd me much) procure him. But he the son of wicked­nes, though adopted to me, esteeming possessiō far better then reuersiō, gaue place so much to couetousnesse, as murder crept into credit to attaine the profit, wherefore he practised to make me away: my friends and kindred had before left me, expecting nothing but my ruine, seeing me so bewitch'd with my vndoing. The plot was laid, and I thus betraide where most I trusted; the time being come for the execution, the hired man (being mine more for iustnesse, then his for rewards) came vnto me, and vpon promise [Page 29] of secresie discouered the truth vnto me, making me besides promise, to be perswaded by him; which was, for some time to retire my selfe, till a party were made in the Countrey strong enough to pull downe his pride, who had gained such power, as he was grown more powerfull then my selfe, then might I be my selfe, and rule in safety. I consented to the concealing, but neuer could be wonne, to thinke of harming him, whose vngratitude I be­leeu'd sufficiently would one day burden him. But how often did I entreat and beseech him to performe his part, and satisfie his Master in killing me? whose falsenesse and wickednesse more grieu'd me, then ten deathes (could I haue suffer'd so many) yet his honest car [...] ouer-ruled me, and I submitted to his Counsel. Then tooke he my clothes, apparelling me fit for the change of my fortune: He, (poore man) returning to my Castle, for so till then it was, credibly reporting, that I going to swimme, as often I did in this sweet Riuer which runnes along this Valley, I was drown'd (wee being then in that place, and indeed, the sweetest in the world.) This in some kind was true, said he, for drown'd I was in sorrow and teares: which, could they haue made a streame for bignesse answerable to their swift falling, had que­stionlesse made his fram'd report true. This being told the Duke, as then by my imagined death, imaginarily he was, did make shew of insupportable griefe being so possest, as he seemed dispossed of senses, furiously, and sud­denly stabbing the good man, who for my life lost his owne: This was coun­ted a passionate act, Loue transporting him so much beyond himselfe, as he was not able to resist his owne furie, while his deuillish cunning did both set a Glosse vpon his brutishnesse, and keepe his Treason vnreueal'd: the poore soule falling dead at his feet, while he said, take this for thy detested newes bringing. Then did he make a solemne funeral for my dead mind, though liuing bodie, He apparrell'd himselfe, and his Court in mourning, which gaue much content to the people who loued me, while indeed, their black was but the true picture of his inward foulenes. My wife did presently retire to a house her selfe had built: but when he had (as he thought) suffici­ently plaid with the people, he began to exercise his authority, beginning with my wife, picking a quarrell to bereaue her of her estate, which he in short time did, turning her to seek her fortune: Patiently she tooke it, hauing yet some Iewels left her, she bought a little house in a thick and desart wood, where she was not long before I came vnto her, discouering my selfe to both our equall passions of ioy and sorrow. Priuatly we there continued many yeares; God in our pouerty giuing vs an vnexpected blessing, which was a daughter, who grew vp and serued vs; for a seruant our meanes would not al­low vs, though our estates requir'd it. Seuenteene yeares we thus concealed liu'd, but then, as ioies, so tortures will haue end; The Duke in all pleasure and plenty, I in miserie, and pouery. One day the young Prince accompanied with his most noble companion Amphilanthus, (who for the honour of Greece was bred with him) and many other braue young Nobles who atten­ded them, went forth to see a flight at the brooke; when after a flight or two the Princes Hawke went out at checke, which made them all follow her, and so long, as at the last (for rescue of my afflictions) they were brought to my poore abiding, which by reason of the farrnesse from the Court, and foulnes of the weather, (a sudden storm then falling) they accepted for their lodging: [Page 30] which although so meane as could be, yet they pleased to like it, rather loo­king into my heart for welcome (where they found it) then into the mean­nesse of the place.

After they had refreshed themselues and discoursed freely with me, it pleased my Prince to say, that my estate and life, agreed not with my con­uersation: wherefore he would not be denied, but needes must know the truth; which out of obedience, more then desire, with heart-tearing griefe I discoursed to him. He gaue few words for answer, but commanded me the next day with my Wife and Daughter to attend him to the Court, which faine I would haue refused; foreseeing (that which soone after [...]ol­low'd) the destruction of my once most loued friend: who, though hee had chang'd gratefulnesse to the contrary, and loue to hate, yet my affection could not so much alter it selfe as to hate where once so earnestly I affected, or seeke reuenge on him, whose good I euer wished. But we obeyed; then the sweet young Prince presented me to his Father, who instantly called me to minde, remembring many aduentures, which in our youths We had pas­sed together: pittying my fortune as much as he had in younger daies af­fected me, yet glad in some kind, to recompence my faithfull seruice to him; instantly sent for the Vsurper, who by reason of a iourney the King made to see his Realme, and shew it to his Sonne before his departure, who was to goe thence with his excellent Cousen in a search by them vndertaken, was come neere to the place of the Tyrants abode. He refused to come, but soone by force he was brought before the King; who with milde fashion, and royall Maiestie examined the businesse, which he confessed: but rather with a proud scorne, then repentant heart: wherefore the King with iust iudgement degraded him, committing him to a strong Tower, whereinto he was walled vp, meate giuen him in at the windowe, and there to ende his dayes: which were not long, pride swelling him so with scorne of his fall, as he burst and dyed.

The Dukedome after this sentence was restored to me: but truely, I was not able so to recouer my former losse, wherefore humbly thanking the King, and his Sonne, besought them to giue mee leaue to bestow it on my Daughter; which was granted me, my wife thinking she had seene enough when I was my selfe againe, departing this life with ioy and content. Be­sides, I made one suit more, which was, that since the Prince had with so much fauour begun to honour mee, it would please [...]im to proceed so far as to bestow one of his young Lords in marriage on my Daughter. The King and Prince both tooke this motion most kindely, wherfore choosing a hope­full young Lord, and him the Prince most loued, gaue him to her: the mar­riage was with much honour celebrated in the Court, at which for their vn­speakable honour, Parselius (for so the Prince is called) and Amphilanthus Prince of Naples, were made Knights; and brauely for the beginning of their succeeding glory began those sports of Field, as since haue made them fa­mous ouer the world. This ended, I went away kissing the Kings and Prin­ces hands, vndertaking a Pilgrimage: which performed, I returned to this place, where like an Hermit still I liue, and will continue while life is in mee; this Valley, those sleepie woody Hilles, and the Caue I rest in, shall bee all the Courts or Pallaces that these old eyes shall euer now behold. As thus we [Page 31] trauelled on, determining to conclude that daies iourney with the end of his story, and resting in his Cell that night, we were called from that resolution by a noise within the wood, of Horse, and clashing of Armour, which drew me to see what the matter was. Arriuing at the place, we found two gentle­men cruelly fighting, and by them many more slaine: but that which most amazed vs, was, that hard by them on the ground, was one of the Mirrours for beauty to see her selfe liuely in, so faire indeed, is she, and such a fairenes hath she, as mine eyes neuer saw her equall, if not that rare Shepherdesse by you, or the incomparable Lady Pamphilia, Sister to the noble Prince Parselius, who I need but name, the world being sufficiently filled with his fame. This Lady lay along, her head vpon her hand, her teares ranne in as great abundance, as if they meant to preserue themselues in making some pretty brooke of truest teares, her breath shee tooke rather in sighes and sobs, then quiet breathing, yet did not this alter the colour, or feature of her heauenly beauty: but resembling the excellent workmanship of some delicatly proportion'd fountaine, which lets the drops fall without hurting it selfe: or like a showre in Aprill, while the Sunne yet continues cleare and bright and so did she seeme to our eyes.

As we were admiring her, there came a Knight in blacke Armour, his Shield sutable to it without any Deuice, who not seeing the Lady, step'd to the two Combatants, willing them to hold their hands, till hee did vn­derstand the cause of their enmitie; They refusing it, turn'd both on him, one stricking him forcibly on the shoulder, he seeing their rudenesse, and feeling himselfe smart, forgot parting, and made himselfe a party, sticking one of them such a blow as made him fall dead at his feet. Whereupon the other yeelded, deliuering his Sword, and turning to the Lady, who now the Knight saw, with admiration for her fairenesse and sorrow, vnbinding her and sitting downe by her, finding I was likewise a stranger, call'd me, and the good Hermit to heare the discourse which the vanquished man deliuer'd in this manner.

Two of these which here you see lye slaine were halfe brothers, Sonnes to one mother; the one of them my Master; who on a day, after a long chase of a Stagge, happened into a Merchants house, not farre hence, where this Lady did then remaine: They were ciuilly and courteously entertained for being Gentlemen well borne, and in their fashion pleasing, they were respected, and belou'd of most; neuer hauing attempted, or to mans know­ledge imbraced, or let in a thought contrary to vertue till their comming thither, where they resolu'd of a course worse then man could of man ima­gine, if not proud by experience. For there they saw that Ladie, desir'd her, and plotted to obtaine her, purposing with all ill meaning to enioy her, nothing being able to giue other ende to their wicked mindes but this [...] whereto their beastlinesse, and true iustice hath brought them: hauing made this place their bed of death, as it was meant for their lasciuious de­sires. Great they did imagine her of birth, by the honour done vnto her; this was another spurre to their deuillish longing; yet to be certaine, with a good fashion dissembling their inward intent, (as well they could, for they were Courtiers) intreated the Merchant to tell who this Lady was, that they might accordingly honour and respect her. Hee told them her name [Page 32] was Antissia, and that she was daughter to the great king of Romania, betrai­ed by her Guardian, taken from him againe by Rouers, and sold by them on this coast, at the Towne call'd S. Anzolo, where I a Merchant (said he) bought her; they not knowing who they sold, nor I what I had bought: till some daies after she her selfe (intreating me no more to suffer her to be made mer­chandize, but to carry her to her father, who would reward me sufficiently for my paines) told me the vnexpected secret. The brothers hearing this, inflamed more then before, beauty first inticing them, then ambition wrought to compasse a kings daughter to their pleasure; much commending them­selues for placing their loues so worthily, yet still forgetting how vnworthie and dishonourable their loue was. Desire makes them now politike, casting all waies how they might betray her; consulting together, they at last con­cluded, to get the Princesse into the Garden to walke, hauing before appoin­ted these slaine men to attend at a doore, which opened into the field, which they opening, perswaded her to goe out a little into so sweet an aire: she fea­ring nothing went with them, when no sooner she was forth, but shee found she was betrayd; crying for helpe would not auaile her, yet the pitifulnesse of it brought forth most of the house, who perceiuing what was intended and neere acted, no fury could be compar'd to theirs (and furie indeed it was) for they but fiue, and vnarmed, attempted to rescue her from vs, being all these; and two of them so amorous, as they in that raging passion (loue being at the best a mild frenzie) would haue been able, or thought themselues so, to haue withstood them, and many more, especially their Mistris being in pre­sence. This noise also brought forth the good womā, wife to the honest mer­chant, where began so pitifull a monefull complaining betweene her and this Princesse, as truly mou'd compassion in all, my heart I am sure weeping for them: yet the mad Louers had sense of nothing but their worst desires. With these words the Princesse fell into a new sorrow, which the Knight perceiuing (whose heart was neuer but pitifull to faire Ladies) perswaded the sad Antissia so well, as he proceeded; Then being possest of the Ladie, my Master led the way, bringing his brother and vs to this banket; this place being set downe for her dishonor, but destin'd for their graues. Then grew a strife for the first enioying of her, so farre it proceeded, as from words they fell to blowes, and so in short time to this conclusion: for they fighting, wee following our Masters example, followed them in death likewise all but my selfe, and I now at your mercy. He had but concluded his storie, when I pul­ling of my helmet, kneeling downe to the Princesse, told her who I was, and likewise my search for her, which she (with as much ioy as on a sudden could enter into so sad a mind) receiu'd with gratious thankfulnes. Now had the black Knight in like manner discouer'd his face, which so excellent in loueli­nes, I cannot say fairenes, as the whitest beauty must yeeld to such a sweetnes; and yet doth his mind as farre excell his person, as his person doth all others that I haue seene, and so will all allow, for this was Amphilanthus; who with mild, yet a princely manner, told the Princesse, That she might leaue her sor­row being falne into his hands, where she should haue all honor and respect, and within short time by himselfe bee deliuer'd to her father. But first hee was to performe his promise to his dearest friend and Cosen Parselius in meeting him in Italy, the time prefixed being almost expired, and his search [Page 33] vt [...]erly fruitlesse. But I pray sir (said Parselius) how came that braue Prince againe into Morea? By a violent storme (said he), wherein he suffer'd ship­wrack. This done, Amphilanthus, Antissia, the Hermit, and my selfe, tooke our waies to the Merchants house, whom we found return'd, but ready again to haue left his house, fill'd with discontent and passion for the vnhappy ac­cident: his wife in that desperate griefe as hardly could shee haue endured with life, had not the blessed returne of Antissia giuen comfort, like life vn­to her sorrowes. The seruant to the slaine Knight guided vs within sight of the house: but then with pardon and liberty of going his owne way, he de­parted.

That night we rested there, the next morning parted our selues; Amphilan­thus, Antissia, the Merchant and his wife, took their iourny together towards the Court, there to leaue her till he had found Parselius, and so end his vow; the old Hermit returnd to his priuate deuotions, my self took my way to the next port, to ship my selfe for Romania, in the same ship was also this man, who hearing me discourse of my aduentures with the Master of the ship, gaue ill language of Amphilanthus, then of Parselius, saying, they were Co­soners, and not Princes, but some odde fellowes taking good names vpon them, since it was very vnlikely so great persons should be so long suffered abroad, and trauell in such a sort alone, and more like runne-awaies, then Princes. These much moued mee: but to put mee quite out of patience, hee went on, giuing vilder, and more curst speeches of my owne Lord: this made mee strike him, and so wee fell together so close, as one or both had dyed for it, had not the company parted vs; and after wee had againe gon to it, but that this ship came and tooke vs, and so made vs Priso­ners to saue our liues. But now Sirs, if you doe not iustice, you wrong your selues, in not reuenging so great an iniurie done to the brauest Prin­ces.

Parselius replide: Wee were not worthie to liue, if wee did not right so worthy a Gentleman as your selfe, and reuenge the wrong done to so great Princes, whose greatnesse yet cannot keepe ill tongues in awe suf­ficientlie, but that in absence they are often wronged; and therefore friends must reuenge that, which they ignorant of otherwise may suffer. But herein wee may bee thought partiall; for this Knight you see is Le­andrus, my selfe Parselius, one of the cousoning Princes (as it pleased his honestie to call mee): I would aduise therefore, that this rare Shepher­desse should appoint him his punishment. The young Knight kneeled downe to haue kissed the handes of the two Princes: they taking him vp, gaue him thankes for his discourse, commending him much for his loyaltie and valour.

Vrania, (who was as heartily angry as the Knight) seeing her Parselius thus wronged, could find no lesse punishment for him, then death. But then the Prince did with sweete perswasions mitigate her furie: but brought it no lower then to publike whipping, submission, and recan­tation: Lastlie, humbly on his knees to aske pardon of the Romanian K [...]ight.

All now satisfied but Vrania, (who could not easilie forgiue an in­iure done to her other selfe) sent him a shore to the next land they saw, [Page 34] Then did the knight againe speake: My Lord Parselius, with your leaue, I be­seech you permit me to take so much boldnes, as to beseech my Lord Lean­drus to doe me so much honour, as to tell mee the aduenture, which caused the report and suspition of his death: they both agreeing, Leandrus thus be­gan. After I had left you most noble Parselius, I went to my owne countrie to visite my father, where still I heard the noise of Antissia's losse, the likeli­hood of her beauty, the griefe of Parents, and the wrong done to my selfe: these did not only inuite, but command me to be diligent, in making al these pieces ioyne again in the first body of cōtent; which I perswaded my self able to doe, by seeking and finding of her. The one I resolu'd, the other I nothing doubted: then with my fathers consent I left Achaya, taking my way among the Greek Ilands, and passing the Archipelago. I left no Iland that had a league of land vnsought, or vnseene: then shipt I my self, and past into your Morea; so after I had seene all those places, I went againe to [...]ea, resoluing afterwards to take towards Italy, whither for farnesse it might bee the traytors had carried her; my companion then leauing me to go to his heart, which he had left in Cecillia. But being in the Iland of Cephalonia, there was a solemne and magnificent Feast held, which was by reason of a marriage betweene the Lords daughter of that Iland, and the Lord of Zante's sonne, a fine and sprite­full youth; Iusts, Tilt, and all other such warlike exercises being proclaimed. Hearing this, I would needs shew my selfe one, as forward as any stranger to honour the Feast. The first day (which was the wedding-day) Armes were laid aside, and only dancing and feasting exercis'd: after supper euery one preparing for the dancing againe. With the sound of trumpets there entred one in habit and fashion like a Commander of horse, who deliuer'd some few lines to the new married Paire, dedicated as to their honour and ioy, which they receiu'd most thankfully, promising freedome and welcome to the whole company. Then entred in twenty Gentlemen presenting souldiers, and so danced in their kind, making a braue and commendable demonstrati­on of Courtship in the brauest profession, honour abounding most, where noblenes in valour, and bounty in ciuilitie agree together. After they went to a rich banket: the braue Masquers discouering themselues, were found to be gentlemen of both Ilands, equally diuided in number, as their affections ought to be to either, and therefore had put themselues into the euenest and perfectest number often, and ten. But to leaue sport, and come to earnest; the manner of that place was, that from the banquet the Bride must be stolne away (to bed the meaning is), but she tooke to the fields. Most did misse her, for there wanted no respectiue care of her, but al were satisfied with the fashi­on, correcting such as spake suspiciously, and expecting to be call'd to see her in bed, waited the calling. But the time being long, some hastier then the rest went to the chamber, where they found she had not been. This was instant­ly blowne abroad; all betooke themselues to Armes who could beare any, the Ladies to their teares, euery one amaz'd, and chiefly the Bridegroome perplext. The old fathers vext, the mothers tore their gray locks, such dis­order in generall, as cannot bee exprest, but by the picture of thesame acci­dent, Some mistrusted the Masquers, but soone they clear'd themselues, putting on Armes, and being as earnest as any in the search. I a stranger, and louing businesse, would needs accompany them (which the fauour of a [Page 35] Nobleman, with whom I had got some little acquaintance, did well aide me in) whose fortunes were in finding them, more happy then any others, ouer­taking them, when they thought themselues most secure, being together laid within a delicate Vineyard, a place able to hide them, and please them with as much content, as Paris felt, when hee had deceiu'd the Greeke King of his beautifull Hellen; laughing at the fine deceit, and pitying in a scornefull fashi­on those, who with direct paine and meaning followed them, commending their subtilties and fine craftinesse, in hauing so deceiu'd them. Kissing and embracing, they ioyfully remain'd in their stolne comforts, till wee rudely breaking in vpon them, made them as fearefully rush vp, as a tapist Buck will doe, when he finds his enemies so neere: yet did not our comming any whit amaze them, but that they were well able to make vse of the best sence at that time required for their good, which was speech, vttering it in this man­ner.

My Lords (said they), if euer you haue knowne loue, that will (we hope) now with-hold you from crossing louers. We confesse, to the law wee are offenders, yet not to the law of loue: wherefore as you haue lou'd, or doe, or may, pity vs, and be not the meanes that wee too soone sacrifice our blouds on the cruell altar of reuenge, while we remaine the faithfull vassals of Ve­nus. Let not your hands be soild in the bloud of louers; what can wash away so foule a staine? You may bring vs (it is true) vnto our iust deserued endes: but then take heed of a repentant gnawing spirit, which will molest you, when you shall be vrg'd to remember, that you caus'd so much faithfull and constant loue, to be offred to the triumph of your conquest, ouer a louer vn­arm'd, wanting all meanes of resistance, but pure affections to defend himself withall, and a woman only strong in truth of loue. For my part, she wan me, my companion was by him gaind; so as promising assistance in place of arms, and helpe in stead of force, we sat down together, he beginning his discourse in this manner.

To make long speeches, striuing to be held an Orator, or with much de­licacie to paint this storie, the time affoords not the one, our truth and loue requires not the other; wherfore as plainely as truth it self demands, I wil tel you the beginning, successe, and continuance of our fortunate (though crost) affections. I lou'd this Lady before she had seene this yong Lord, she likewise had onely seene my loue, and onely tide her selfe to that, before he saw her; loue made me her slaue, while she suffered as by the like authoritie. I sued, she granted; I lou'd, she requited; happinesse aboue all blessings to bee im­braced. Our eyes kept iust measure of lookes, being sometimes so inchain'd in delightfull links of each others ioy-tying chaine (for so wee made vp the number of our beholdings), as hard it was to be so vnkindly found, as to sepe­rate so deare a pleasure. Our hearts held euen proportion with our thoughts and eies, which were created, nursed, and guided by those, or rather one harts power. But Parents hauing (were it not for Christianity, I shuld say) a cruel & tirannical power ouer their childrē, brought this to vs disastrous fortune: for discouering our loues, set such spies ouer vs (scorning that I being the yonger brother to an Earle, should haue such happinesse, as to inioy my Princesse) as we could neuer come to enioy more then bare lookes, which yet spake our true meanings after it was discouer'd. This course inrag'd vs, vowing to haue [Page 36] our desires vpon any termes whatsoeuer, alwaies consider'd with true no­blenesse, and vertue. Thus resolu'd, We continued, till her Father con­cluding this match, shut her vp in a Towre, wherein he then kept (in her) his choisest Treasure, till this day of her Marriage: which opportunity we tooke, purposing; More he would haue said, as it seemd, truely to ma­nifest the vertuous determination they had, in their accomplishment of their desires, when he was hinder'd by the rushing in of others with their Horses. Rising, We discern'd the deceiu'd youth with some others in his company; Fate, like his Loue, hauing guided him to that place. In charity wee could not leaue our first professed Friends, nor could I part my selfe from such and so true Loue: wherefore resolutely taking my companions part, defended the Louers, pitty then taking the place of Iustice in our Swords; the Hus­band being vnfortunately slaine by my Companion, truly I was sorry for him, and glad it was not I had done it. But soone followed a greater and more lamentable misfortune: For one of the yong Lords Seruants, seeing his Master slaine, pressed in, vnregarded, or doubted, vpon the vnarmed Lo­uer, who was this while comforting his Mistris, and not expecting danger, was on the sudden thrust into the backe, as he was holding his onely com­fort in his armes. He soone (alas, and so foreuer) left his deare imbrace­ment, turning on him who hurt him, repaying the wrong with giuing him his death: but then soone followed his owne, the wound being mortall which he had receiued, yet not so suddenly, but that he saw the destruction of his enemies. We being as fierce, as rage, and reuenge could make vs, then he remaining alone (besides my selfe) aliue, and yet dying, giuing me in­finite thankes for my loue, and willing rescue lent him, with many dolefull and (in affection) lamentable groanes and complaints, he tooke his leaue of his onely and best beloued, then of me; to whom he committed the care of her, and his body, then kissing her departed. But what shall I say of her? imagine, great Prince, and all this braue company, what she did; You will say, she wept, tore her haire, rent her clothes, cri'd, sobd, groand; No, she did not thus, she onely imbraced him, kissed him, and with as deadly a palenesse, as death could with most cunning counterfeit, and not execute, She entreated me to conduct her to the next Religious house, where shee would remaine till she might follow him. I admird her patience, but since more wonder'd at her worth. O women, how excellent are you, when you take the right way? else, I must confesse, you are the children of men, and like them fault-full. The body we tooke with the helpe of a Litter which passed by (hauing before conuayd a hurt Knight to the same Monastery next to that place) and in that we conuayd it thither, where we buried him, and almost drownd him in our teares. Thinking then to haue remou'd, she fell ill, not sicke in body, but dead in heart, which appear'd; for within two dayes she dyed, leauing this world, to meet, and once more ioy in him, who more then a world, or ten thousand worlds she loued, and still desi­red; which made her choose death being her then greater ioy, burying them together a little without the house (the order of that place not per­mitting them to be layd within it.) After this sad (but honest) performance of my word, I went on in my Iourney, meeting within few dayes after, a Page belonging to my dead friend, who with his Masters Armour followed [Page 37] him, loue and obedience bringing it into his mind. The armor was good, be­ing that which I now weare, mine owne hackt and cut in many places. With much sorrow the youth receiu'd the wofull tidings of his Master, then obtai­ned I so much, as to haue those armes, which with violēt sorrow he consen­ted to, helping me to arme my selfe in them, though so, as had I been any but his dead Lords friend, he sooner and more willingly would haue wound in­to his funerall shirt. He tooke my armour, and laid it together vnder a tree which grew in the mid'st of a faire and pleasant plaine: then (although a­gainst my will) he kist my hands, and with as much true-felt sorrow as could lodge in so young yeares, tooke his leaue of me; only beseeching me, when I remembred my vnfortunate friends, I would also with some pity thinke on his misery: this was my aduenture. And then past I by sea, till on a rock I suf­fered shipwrack, being taken vp by this famous Pirat whom you so valiantly haue slaine, being I assure you, none of your least victories, he hauing had as much strength and skill, as in any one man need remaine: but knowing me, and some power I haue with the king of Cecile, my deere and worthy friend P [...]rissus his Vncle, whose excellent company I gain'd in Achaya, he then be­ing there, and with whom I trauelled many moneths, almost yeares, till I be­gan this search: this man, on condition I would mediate for him to the King, or his Nephew, let me goe at libertie, and arm'd in his ship, till such time as we fortun [...]d to land; alwaies concluded, that while I was with him, I should defend him with my best meanes. This made me resist you till heauen told me my error, which I repent, and heartily aske pardon for: and this sure was the reason that my Page imagined my death, if hee found (as by all likeli­hood he did) my armes.

Then did Parselius againe imbrace Leandrus: turning to the Squire of Am­philantus he demanded what he knew of his Master. Truly (replide he) no­thing but the ioy I conceiue to heare by this gentle Knight that he is liuing: I parted from him in a great storme, hauing been in Germany sent thither with an army from the Pope to assist the Emperour against the Duke of Saxony, who was slaine by his hand, and for this act was by the Emperour and the o­ther Princes made King of the Romans, hauing protected the Empire against such an enemy; since till now neuer hauing heard newes of him: but he ment to seeke still for you, and therefore left Germany, and in the Mediterran sea, my selfe, ship, and all my Lords treasure was taken by this Pirat, whom your valour hath destroyed. Thus with prosperous wind and infinite ioy for Am­philanthus his new title and hon [...]ur, they sailed towards Italy, hoping to land not farre from the Towne where the king of Naples at that time kept his Court, which was at that great Citie: but being within the sight of the shore because it then was euening they resolu'd not to land till the next morning, and so take the day before them. This thought the best (like mens counsells) proou'd the worst; for in the night rose a terrible and fearefull storme, being so violent, as it tooke not away rest only, but knowledge from the Pilot, be­ing onely able within some howers to assure them, that they were far distant from Italy. The tempest continued in as great (i [...] not greater) furie, nor any more comfort had they, saue that now they enioyed light, and yet could that light scarce be counted day, being but as day-breake before the Sun-rising; so as it was but as to distinguish the time of day from night, or as if it were to [Page 38] hold a candle to them, the more to see their danger, so thicke, cloudy, and vn­comfortable, as they could discerne nothing, but what was nearest them, which was perill. Cunning now preuail'd not, for the most skilfull confessed, that now he was artlesse, heauenly powers working aboue the knowledge of earthly creatures, which way they were by force carried, was vtterly vn­known to them; sailes, tackling were gone; the mast, either by force, or hope of safety cast ouer-board; thunder, lightning, wind, raine, they wanted not; none being able to expresse the desperatenes of this storme, but by saying, it was the picture of the last day for violence, but like the world for strangenes and vncertainty. Thus they continued in the day (hauing only the shadow of a day) and in the night feareful flames, which yet they thankt, because by thē they could discerne themselues. When heauen did think this storme had last­ed long enough crosse to those, though cros [...], yet still most louing louers, it commanded the seas to be at quiet, which being perform'd, the Pilot againe began to vse his skil, which first had meanes to let him know, that so farre they were from the place resolu'd on, as in stead of the coast of Italy, they were within sight of the Iland of Ciprus: this not onely amazed them, but much troubled them, considering the barbarousnes of the people who there inhabi­ted, and their extremity such, as of necessity they must land to replenish their wants, caused by the rigor of the tempest: yet were they come to such a part of the country, as there was no harbor or port to ride or land at; wherfore they were forst to coast the country; night again like an euil spirit possessing them, almost all tired and weary with the length and violence of the storme. Some were laid down to see if rest would possesse them: others falne asleep, none enduring it like the excellent Vrania, which brought comfort (though in sorrow) to the louing and noble Parselius, neuer shewing feare or trouble: incouraging all. And yet she did feare, but seeing his, she dissembled hers, in care of not further harming him, She, I say, when all were gone to rest, stood as Sentinel, but by her owne appointment, loue cōmanding her soule to take no aduantage of restfull houres; which she obediently did, sleep neuer but by loues liberty possessing her eies: which freedome her passion had not yet al­lowed her, but molesting her patient sweetnes caused her to walke vp and downe in the maze of her trouble. The Moone (though coldly) smiling on her, and her loue [...] she perceiued a great fire, whereupon she called the compa­ny, demanding what their opinions were of it; they could not giue her a di­rect answer, till being come somewhat neerer, they pereeiued it was a Ship was falne a fire in the midst of the Sea, and right against it a very good Har­bour. Pitty, and noble compassion straight moued in them, so as they haled to the burning Barke, to know if there were any by ill fortune in her, and if so, to succour them, but hearing no answer, they concluded shee was empty: wherfore passing on they landed in the Island, which no sooner was done, but their former wonder was encreased, by the sudden falling a fire of their own Ship, which had but deliuerd her self of thē, and then as a Martyr suffer'd for the paine they had in her endur'd. But this past, admiration brought new sor­row to them, considering they were in a strange Country, among barbarous people, depriu'd of all hope to get thence any more, but there to continue at the mercy of vnchristened creatures. Parselius wished, but stil found himselfe further from succour of any but his fruitles wishes: all his tormenting griefe [Page 39] being for Vrania. Vrania did as he did, iustly requiting his paine, for all hers was for him. All lamented and pittied Vrania, and the dainty Selarina, who mildly, yet with a more Woman like manner [...]uffered these afflictions, lo­uing and pittying Vrania, being an obligation they were all in their hearts, as they found, bound vnto. Leandrus sorrowed for her, and bewail'd the two young Princes, whose Father had lost his Kingdome, for his loue to his Father, which stirred in him a commiserate passion. Thus, all for others grieued, pittie extended so, as all were carefull, but of themselues most care­lesse: yet their mutuall care, made them all cared for. Parselius with a braue courage, at last aduised them to go [...] on, yet left it to their owne mindes, fearing to perswade, least harme might after follow, grieue, feare, perswade they did and all distractedly, so much they feared, and most was for Vrania: so much can worth, sweetnesse, and Beautie worke in noble mindes. His aduise was to goe on, and this was allowed, for what could hee propound that Vrania liked not of? And if she consented, what spirit could deny? Thus, on they went (but as in a Labyrinth without a thrid) till they came within sight of a rare and admirable Pallace.

It was scituated on a Hill, but that Hill formed, as if the world would needs raise one place of purpose to build Loues throne vpon; all the Coun­try besides humbly plaine, to shew the subiection to that powerfull dwel­ling. The Hill whereon this Pallace stood was iust as big as to hold the House: three sides of the Hill made into delicate Ga [...]dens and Orchards: the further side was a fine and stately Wood. This sumptuous House was square, set all vpon Pillars of blacke Marble, the ground paued with the same. Euery one of those pillars, presenting the liuely Image (as perfectly as caruing could demonstrat, of braue, and mighty men, and sweet and de­licate Ladies, such as had been conquer'd by loues power: but placed there, as still to mainetaine, and vphold the honour, and House of Loue. Com­ming towards it, they imagined it some Magicall work, for so daintily it ap­pear'd in curiositie, as it seem'd as if it hung in the ayre, the Trees, Fountains, and all sweet delicacies being discerned through it. The vpper Story had the Gods most fairely and richly appearing in their thrones: their propor­tions such as their powers, and quallities are described. As Mars in Armes, weapons of Warre about him, Trophies of his Victories, and many demon­strations of his Warre-like God-head. Apollo with Musicke, Mercurie, Saturne, and the rest in their kind. At the foote of this Hill ranne a pleasant and sweetly passing riuer, ouer which was a Bridge, on which were three Towres: Vpon the first was the Image of Cupid, curiously caru'd wi [...]h his Bow bent, and Quiuer at his backe, but with his right hand pointing to the next Towre; on which was a statue of white Marble, representing Venus, but so richly adorn [...]d, as it might for rarenesse, and exquisiten [...]sse haue beene taken for the Goddesse her selfe, and haue causd as strange an affection as the Image did to her maker, when he fell in loue with his owne worke. Shee was crownd with Mirtle, and Pansies, in her left hand holding a flaming Heart, her right, directing to the third Towre, before which, in all dainty [...]iches, and rich delicacy, was the figure of Constancy, holding in her hand the Keyes of the Pallace: which shewed, that place was not to be open to all, but to few possessed with that vertue.

[Page 40]They all beheld this place with great wonder, Parselius resoluing it was some Enchauntment; wherefore was the nicer how they proceeded in the entring of it: while they were thus in question, there came an aged Man, with so good a countenance and graue aspect, as it strucke reuerence into them, to be shewed to him, by them. He saluted them thus: Faire company, your beholding this place with so much curiosity, and besides your habits makes me know you are strangers, therefore fit to let you vnderstand the truth of this braue Building, which is dedicated to Loue. Venus (whose Priest I am) thinking her self in these latter times, not so much, or much lesse honour'd then in ages past, hath built this, calling it the throne of Loue. Here is She dayly seru'd, by my selfe, and others of my profession, and heere is the triall of false or faithfull Louers.

Those that are false, may enter this Towre, which is Cupids Towre, or the Towre of Desire: but therein once inclosed, they endure torments fit for such a fault. Into the second any Louer may enter, which is the Towre of Loue: but there they suffer vnexpressable tortures, in seuerall kindes as their affections are most incident to; as Ielo [...]sie, Despaire, Feare, Hope, Longings, and such like. The third which is guarded by Constancy, can bee entred by none, till the valiantest Knight, with the loyallest L [...]dy come together, and open that gate, when all these Charmes shal haue conclu­sion. Till then, all that venture into these Towres, remaine prisoners; this is the truth. Now if your hearts will serue you aduenture it.

They thanked the old man for his relation, but told him they had some Vowes to performe first: which ended, they would aduenture for impri­sonment in so rare a prison. The old Priest left them, and they weary, laid them downe neere the Towre of Desire, refreshing themselues with some little meate, which Vranias mayde had in her Scrip: but wanting drinke, they all went to the Riuer, whereof they had but drunke, when in them se­uerall Passions did instantly abound.

Parselius forgot all, but his promise to the dead King of Albania, for the setling his Sonnes in that Kingdome. Leandrus afflicted with the losse of An­tissia, must straight into Morea to finde her, and take her from Amphilanthus; Steriamus and Selarinus would not be refused the honour of Knight-hood, Mars hauing so possessed them with his warlike disposition, as worlds to their imaginations were too little to conquer, therefore Albania was already wonne. Vrania, whose heart before was onely fed by the sweet lookes, and pleasing conuersation of Parselius, loues him now so much, as she imagines, she must try the aduenture, to let him see her loyalty is such, as for his loue, and by it she would end the Inchantment. Selarina, thought she saw within the Gardens, a young Prince with a Crowne vpon his head, who beckned to her, wherefore she would goe at such a call. Vrania's maide beheld as she beleeu'd Allimarlus in the second Towre, kissing and embracing a Black­moore: which so farre inraged her, being passionatly in loue with him, as she must goe to reuenge her selfe of that iniurie. These distractions carried them all, as their passions guided them. Parselius hauing knighted the two Princes, tooke their way to the next Port: Vrania now not seene or thought on. Leandrus hasting another way, to finde meanes for his Iourney. Selarina to the Towre, and knockt with that feruent desire to accomplish her ende as [Page 41] the gate opened; all the three rush'd in, [...]triuing who should be first. But Se­larina was then soone made to know shee should not contend with Vrania, wherefore she was lockt into the first tower, burning with desire to come to that sweete Prince, which still she sees before her: hee calling, shee with vncessant desire striuing to goe to him. Vrania went on, when entring the second tower, guarded by Venus, she was therein inclosed, when as thus much sense came to her, as to know she had left Parselius, which strak her into a mourning passion, confessing that, an vnpardonable fault, and what he in iu­stice [...]ould not excuse. Then despaire possest her so, as there she remaind, lo­uing in despaire, and despairing mourn'd. The shepherdesse her seruant con­tinuing her first passion got into that Tower too, where she stil saw her afflic­tion, striuing with as much spitefull iealousie, as that fury could vex her with­all, to come at the Moore to pull her from her knight. Thus were the women for their punishment, left prisoners in the throne of Loue [...] which Throne and punishments are daily built in all humane hearts. But how did the honest Al­limarlus carry himselfe in all these changes? Alas, with much griefe [...]nd sor­row for this misfortune, he not hauing drank, being the on [...]ly sensible man left; wherefore fearing more the harme of Parselius and his companions then the Ladies, who were (without question) safe, though farre from being [...]ree, he followed them, lest harme might from those furious humors grow. They made such haste, as no rest could inuite their stay, till they were tired with their owne minds trauell, and then all three lying downe in one anothers armes, they yeelded vnto sleepe. In which, new torments vexed them: for then did they come a little to themselues (or a little more from themselues in another kind) and as men long held in a trance, awaked. Parselius wee­ping for Vrania's vnkindnesse, who had (as hee dreamed) forsaken him, and left him sleeping, while shee went with another. The two Princes be­wailing the death of their Sister, who they imagined taken violently from them, and sacrificed to Venus.

Thus they againe fall into strange and new distractions, which grieu'd the young Knights verie soule to see, but hauing no hope of seeing them restored, while they continued in that Iland: soothing them vp in their owne opinions, knowing it dangerous and idle to crosse mad men, with gen­tle peswasions gain'd Parselius to goe with him, when hee promis'd to bring him where Vrania with her new friend did abide, and then he might recouer her, and kill his enemie. The other hee likewise gaind, promising they should haue the meanes to kill their aduersaries likewise.

Thus he got them thence: trauelling in this sort, till they came to the sea side where they found a small Barke, and in her two persons, an old man, and a little Boy being Fishers [...] and hauing taken some, had then newly put a sho [...]e to dresse, and so to satisfie their hungers with their gaine. The Romanian Knight saluted the old man, intreating, that that companie might goe into his boate, and time it was to preuent the com­ming harme, for then were they ready to r [...]nne into the sea; but by force they got them into the Barke, where no sooner they were, hauing freed themselues from the land (which was the nature of those charmes), but their good spirits againe possess'd them. Then did Parselius bewaile Vrania, crie out of his miserable fortune in hauing lost her, beseech euery one to pitie with him so great a mischiefe. The knight wept to see these [Page 42] changes, but then mildly told him all that had happened. Grieu'd Parse­lius did remaine; but considering heauenly powers had caused this, he the more quietly endur'd it, yet not without a bleeding hart, and often showring eies: O Vrania (would hee cry), how iustly maist thou hate me, for leauing thee? Damn'd country, can it be that thou wert ordain'd for loue to haue a Throne in, and yet to be the hel of louers? Much more he cri'd, and sorrow­ed out, while the old man had gain'd the knowledge of this aduenture from Allimarl [...]s, who was by him knowne, so as beseeching Parselius to lay by his mourning, or at least to giue eare to this story, said hee, which will encrease compassion, and passion in you; with that the graue old man began thus. La­mentation (braue Princes) is that which I must treat of; but first I must tell you, as one of the parts of this story; I am called Seleucius, brother I am to the king of Romania, Lord to this young knight: and thus from me (the most vn­fortunate of Princes) heare the wofull'st and most disastrous history, that euer Princely eares gaue attention to. I was brother, and somtime heire to this vn­happy king, being thought lost: but after found in such an aduenture of en­chantment as this seemes to be. Return'd, married, and was blest with two children, of whom I am sure this Gentleman hath already discoursed vnto you, wherefore that part I wil leaue, and come to the last. My Nephew Anti­ssius being come from the fruitles search of his sister Antissia, my brother would needs marry him to a Lady in the country, which he (although neuer hauing bin in loue) might haue questioned; yet he euer loued to obay his fa­ther, and so they were married. O Antissius, worthy Antissius: with that the teares ran downe his long white beard, resembling drops in snow, stopping his breat [...], that scarce the last word could bee heard. In this time did all the Princes ioyne, concluding it with sobs, and groanes, euery one hauing equall feeling of sorrow, though for seueral things. At last he cry'd out these words: Pardon great Prince this sad interruption in my story, which I am forst to do, heart-rending sorrow making me euer doe so, when I think of (much more name) my deerest Nephew, and his vnfortunate losse; being such a wound to that country, as none can imagine but our selues, who daily feele the misery. He being married by his fathers commād, who longed to see some fruit from so wor [...]hy a stock, his obedience hauing mastred his affection, which rather was to follow Armes, then fall into the armes of Loue: he worthily lou'd his wife, and louingly liu'd with her; within that yeare being blest with a Son, whom after his father they called Antissius: with this ioy'd-at birth began the ruin of all (yet not because of his birth, for in him we haue yet our last hope) but by reason that the Grandmother liu'd but to kisse her babe; after whose death the king again maried, and her, whose wickednes I am sure hath come vnto your eares. This malitious creature, after [...]he had caused Antissius to bee banisht and most honest men to lose their liues, or places, she yet not satisfi­ed with such sins, as neuer the earth sufferd in one body the waight of more; treason, adultery, witchcraft and murder, were plentifully in her, yet while he liu'd she was not contented. Wherefore to bring this to passe, was now her only study. In this time some one or two honest hearts were left, who gaue the king warning of her, ventring their heads to saue his body from harme; her immoderate desires so much knowne, as they cried out against her; shee being a Queene salued not, nor couered her sin, which in her greatnes appea­red the greater fault; a spot being more markt in a Diamond, then in an ordi­nary [Page 43] piece of glasse. Long time it was ere his honest and vnspotted loue would belieue it, or hearken to it, while shee delighted her selfe in her owne shame, and his dishonor. At last ( [...]hough extreame loath) he seem'd to see it, slaking his violent loue to her, & oft refraining her bed, made her discerne it, though delighting her self so much with others, had somewhat blinded her from see­ing, what but for policy, she cared little for. But then did shee neuer leaue the poore man with her flatterings and disfembling falshoods, till she had gaind the cause and ground of his most iust offence, and deserued mistrust, and vn­usuall strangenes, which at last (vndone by her bewitching fawnings) she gai­ned. Then had she enough, vowing to be reuengd on al, and vnder this colour to execute her malice, and purge her spleene vpon the famous Prince his son; which by her cruell practises, she at last vnfortunately brought to passe. For first (by meanes as she pretended that she was slandred) she got her good ho­nest husband to banish any, who had in the least, spoken of her lightnes; put­ting into that number those whom she hated, hauing suffred (as she alleagd) as much by their slanderous reports, as almost if it had been a truth shee had merited, wishing she had still continued widow, rather then to come to this height of honour; and hauing it, to fall so low as into the shame of dishonor: beseeching him throughly to reuenge her, or to permit her to retire to the most lonely and priuate life [...] rather then there openly to sinke vnder shame and infamie: or if she could be found faulty, then to cut off her head, farre vn­fit to liue wife to so vertuous and good a king. To satisfie her, whose dissem­blings were of force to bring new heate into his aged heart, which like old wood will presently kindle, he strooke off the heads of those loyall seruants, who had honestly (though vndiscreetly) told him of her sinne, men, not lo­uing that discourse of any. This done, he came to receiue thanks: but she tel­ling him this was nothing, and vnlesse hee would doe more to right her, so shamefully wrongd, she would go away, and execute some mischiefe on her selfe; her spirit and conscience not being able to sustaine themselues induring such abuse: and then (if euer he lou'd her) he would be sorry, he had wrongd so true and faithfully louing a wife, while he did credit pickthanking Coun­sellors. He seeing this passion in his deere wife, vowed reuengefull iustice on all she could accuse. Vpon this vow, and some other assurance which was giuen by execution, her holy Maiesty seem'd somewhat satisfied, and then conten [...]ed (as it were) to liue, hauing new life giuen in her iustice, and faith-trying honour. She came abroad, but oft-times blushing; modesty was the colour put vpon it, when indeed it was affection to a young Lord in the Court: who after shee found she could not win with all inticements and loue-showes, shee accused him for seeking her, and so with many more lost his head. Now was Antissius and his vertuous wife confind to a Ca­stle, some twenty miles from the Court, he being accused of popularity, and aspiring to the Crowne. This was the power of that insatiable Monster, as shee could, and would banish from him his best, and onely true com­forts. My Nephewes misfortune increasing, and his hate to liue, grow­ing euery day stronger in him, he gaind for all this the Queenes leaue to goe, and liue with me. She willing to it, hoping his former ill vsage would pro­uoke him to that hee might die for, else shee would finde a meanes to com­passe it. But few plots needed, this being the beginning, and his soone [Page 44] following ouerthrow; for the people finding her gouernment absolute, and that being bent to the ruin of the land, followed the vertuous Prince in great numbers, and at al times, which he as much as in him lay, did put off & auoid: yet not so, but that the Queene wrought cunningly enough vpon it, to mixe iealousie with the fathers loue to his sonne, shee neuer ceasing to wish the subiects loue as great and firme to his Maiestie, as shee, and all others saw their hearts were placed vpon his worthy sonne, which though he for his af­fection to him, did not yet make vse of, yet it is a fine thing, said she, to bee a king, and a terrible matter to be tempted: were you not safely blessed with so honest a son. And therefore you must trust more to the loyaltie of Antissius, then the faith of his people, who, he might perceiue, regarded nothing lesse then their due respect to him. Sparingly she spake well of him, but freely to make suspition. Thus now was he falne into the path, which led to the court of her malice: for buzing these things in his old, and fearefull eares, shee at last brought to this fulnesse of ill. One day as she had appointed (being pri­uately with the King in a Gallery) two of the Counsell came in, in hast, yet a dissembling feare in their faces, counterfei [...]ing need, but doubt and vnwil­lingnesse to discouer what mou'd in them this sudden approch. The King vrg'd them, when with teares they told him, that they had gaind knowledge of a dangerous conspiracy, which was plotted, & to be instantly executed vp­on the persons of his Maiesty, and his most royal Queen, by Antissius and my self, the treason being this: to depose him, kil the Queen, banish the Counsell I make himselfe Monarch of Romania, dispose the offices, already disposed of, among his fauourites, and the whole realme, as he best liked to his followers, and associats, and in this kind make a conquest of it. Then alas sir (said they), what will become of poore Romania, when your vertue and wisdome shall be put by, their gouernment, and his greene capacity, and those young wild hea­ded Counsellors shall rule ouer vs, who were fitter at schoole to learne obe­dience and loyalty, then to sway a Scepter, besides the wrong and sin, of tak­ing the lawfull Prince from among his people. This related and seconded by the Queen, who stil in a double maner clear'd, & condemn'd poore Antissius, whose iust and vertuous heart neuer thought of such a treason, nor of her (if not with sorrow for her wickednes). It wrought so far in the iealous brest of the old man, as he manifested his crediting it, and with all the feare hee con­ceiu'd of it, expressing as much hate to his son, as such a wicked practise might iustly challenge. Then hastily (as feare is alwaies sudden) he demaunded ad­uice, with the best and readiest way to auoide the danger. They yet hauing gone but halfe way of their diuelish progresse, replied: That since it pleased him to haue such confidence in them, as to aske their aduice in so great a busines, they would as honestly discharge themselues, and this they held the safest, and the best course; which was, that the Prince (who they must still loue and reuerence, and whose fault cut their hearts to thinke of) should be sent for, but in such manner, as he should haue no cause to distrust, lest then he went about to gaine by force, what they before had been inform'd, he hoped to compasse by a priuate conspiracie. This aduice, and the plot it selfe, he im­parted to some more of the Counsell, who already were sufficiently instruc­ted in their parts, and so accordingly agreed; consenting, nay commen­ding the graue, carefull, and honest aduice of the other two. Then was a [Page 45] Messenger straight dispatched to the Prince, (who like a braue, but innocent Hart came into the toile) with order to come himselfe, his wife, and So [...]ne vnto the King, whose age, and weaknesse being great, and his affection on­ly left strong in him, towards him, and his, would haue them neerer to him, and for that he would recompēce him, for the iniuries in former times done to him: I was not at home, for had I bin, the iourney surely had bin hindred, while Antissius doubting no treason, his noble heart being free from thinking any, in haste (hoping that way to expresse the ioy hee felt by these vnexpec­ted glad tidings) posted to the Court, leauing word, that I (who was to re­turne in a very short time after) should with all conuenient speed accompa­ny his wife, and sonne to the King. Few daies he had rid, before he was en­countred with a troope of horse, vnder the commaund of an ancient friend of his, and a friend indeed he was in this action, being betrayd as well as he, sent vnder colour of loue to the Prince, who since hee had (or at least it being thought hee had) so much dislik'd his father, as hee had forbid him his once heeld-deerest sight, and that the people had taken notice of it in a dangerous kind: to preuent any bold or hazardus attempt might happen by a rude mul­titude, the Queene had sent this troupe to guard him, and that she knowing the loue this Gentleman bare Antissius, had made choice of him to conduct his person thither. Antissius was somewhat troubled with this accident, won­dring why she should be on the sudden so kind, knowing th [...]t there was none whose ruin she and her godly crew more shot at: yet could not he (who saw only with the eies of vertue) pierce into this plot. Mildly and gratiously hee saluted the Captaine and his men, yet telling them, his innocency had been guard enough for his person.

They went on, but when they were within [...]ight of the great Citie of Constantinople (the Court then being there) they perceiued a farre greater number of Souldiers, with which sight hee saw his end, and soone heard he sentence of his death: for then did they set vpon him, crying, Downe with that Traytor, that disobedient child, the incurable griefe of his lo­uing father, the dishonour of our Countrie, and the Canker of the States quiet. With these cries they rushed violently vpon the Prince. The first troope seeing this Treason, did their best to defend Antissius; but their liues could not buy his safetie, in vaine striuing to alter destiny: the period of his dayes being come with a blow giuen him by a trayterous villaine, which strake his head in two. Griefe of this accident turn'd to fury, his party [...]ighting as if Antisius had beene in euery one, and so to bee defen­ded; but that was past, their loues onely liuing to him. Yet dyed it too, for none were left of the whole Troope, but the Captaine, and some tenne more. The Queenes men hauing gain'd almost what they sought, fully to giue her satisfaction in his death; yet wanted part, since they could not get his bodie, to be made a present to her cruelty. For the Captaine perceiuing their drift, hinder'd them of it, taking him vp when he saw the vnluky blow giuen, and in the heate of the [...]ight fled away with it, knowing this a bet­ter piece of seruice, then to haue lost his life in reuenge at that time: since to better purpose he might saue it in seruing his Sonne, to haue a iust, and fit requitall for such a wickednesse, on those shamefull murderers. They came with this body (of the most beloued Prince, while he liued, and the [Page 42] most pittied and honourd after death) to my house. Iust as I return'd, did I encounter this sad and disastrous aduenture; In stead of a braue, coura­gious, and (with it) pleasing presence, I met his bloudlesse, pale, and mar­tyrd body. There I saw the hope of our Country, and comfort of mine age, chang'd againe into our first being: So much it afflicted mee, as I stood amazed with griefe, speechlesse, and senselesse of sense, but sorrow: till sorrow being pleasd to make me haue more feeling of her power, gaue me leaue to let these words come from me. O Antissius, hath life beene lent me to see this day! Miserable man, miserable Countrey, wretched age, wherein such cruelty doth raigne; O Antissius! but then by their honest good perswasions (telling me the necessity, and ensuing dangers, if not pre­uented, that the rest liuing might fall into) I stroue to endure this calamity with as much patience, as so miserable a man could let sinke into him, and in­deed for this young youthes sake, who is the young Antissius, heire to these miseries, and the ouerthrowne estate of Romania. But then followed a se­cond cause of griefe; For his vertuous wife came to vs, who hearing such lowd cries, and distracted noyses, left her Chamber, following the cries till they brought her to that most lamentable spectacle. When she saw the cause of their wailing, she put them aside, going to the body, and kneeling downe by it, vsed these words; My deare, was it for this, that vnnaturall Father, and monster of women, sent for thee? That no sooner thou shouldest see thy Fa­thers house, but with it thou must see thy house of death? Alas, wert thou too good, too hopefull, too full of all vertues to liue among vs, who can now but assist thee with our teares? But long shall not this worldly sorrow triumph ouer me in thy losse, for I must, and will be with thee; with that kissing the pale lips of her dearest loue, and as it were breathing her (though not last, but fortelling) last breath into him, she rose, and rising, a little seemed to smile, ioy within her (for assured going to him) hauing caused that Countenauce; which by some was disliked, not being, to their weake apprehensions, sad e­nough, for such a cause of woe. As soone as she had left the body, she came to me, earnestly entreating me, that I would suffer none to trouble her, shee hauing some priuate deuotions to performe, which being ended, I should be welcome to her. For my part, I so little mistrusted her intent, or imagi­ned a Woman had so strong a spirit, as to dye when shee would, granted what she asked, being confident, her goodnesse would keepe her from do­ing any violence on her selfe. Hauing left me, she went to the roome where her young Sonne lay, and then fast sleeping, when as weeping ouer him (as the Maides [...]ince tolde me) well maist thou sleepe, deare heart, said she, for long, I feare thy quiet will not last; thy being Sonne to so worthy a Father, and vnfortunate a Mother, must cast some stormes on thee, it being fault e­nough in thee to haue such Parents: at least, thy wicked Grandmother will thinke so, who hating truth will make thee suffer for thy Fathers sake. Sleepe then quietly, my sweet, and lost Antissius, nor now looke vp to see thy woefull Mother, or to take her last farewell: but thus re­ceiue her blessing, which as the blessing of her owne soule, shee wi­shes may come, and stay vpon thee, God sending thee a more happie life then thy valiant Father had: let his guifts of vertue, courage, and magnanimity liue in thee, and his misfortunes take their graue in mee; [Page 47] Alas, Antissius, my onely sweet Babe, I must leaue thee, then againe kissing him, shee said. This is the difference in affection, twixt a Husband and a Childe, otherwise no feare of misfortune [...]hould carry me from thee, but my sweetest I must goe, leauing Antissius, to flie to Antissius. And good maids, said she, haue a kind, and iust care of this young Prince, he may liue to re­quite your paines, and reuenge the wrongs done to his distressed Parents. They vowed all faith and dutifull seruice to him; then againe, as loath it must be the last, she kissed him, and so went to her Chamber: yet at the dore, turning backe, affectionatly, and with watry eyes, cast her last, and kindest fare-well looke on him. When she came into her Chamber, Shee lockt the dore, not suffering any to stay or come to her: where she continued till (I thinking her stay long, besides, hauing businesse with her concerning the dead Prince) I went to her Lodgings, where long I knocked, and indeed, so long as it vexed me: but after feare possessed mee, when I considered what the danger might be, and her freedome, and liberty, such as none had euer receiued that dishonor, of being barr'd her presence. Wherefore I sent for some of my Seruants, who by my command brake open the dore. Entring the roome, We found her laid vpon her bed, newely dead, yet her owne accustomed sweetnesse in her, lying as straight, and vnmou'd, as if death had onely then showne, he could in his panges be milde, yet receiue his gaine: so as well it may be said, he depriu'd her of her life, yet left her owne beauty and grace to triumph ouer his fury. By the bed side stood a Ta­ble couer'd with a Carpet of Crimson Veluet, and on the board a Letter, which I tooke vp, and seeing it directed to me, I read it, and here (braue Princes) you may see the very same, my dearest Neece left to me, which neuer will I p [...]rt with, till time giue end vnto my dayes, or life to accomplish her desires. The Letter was this.

No Stranger I thinke would haue denied so iust requests, proceeding from a Lady of her worth, and being dying; what then wrought in me, who wanted not loue, or resolution of reuenge? One of her desires I instantly performed, for I buried her with her busband, and then vpon the Tombe, my selfe, the Captaine, and the Seruants to the lost Antissius, tooke a solemne oath to haue reuenge: but by the brauest Princes, whose worths must needs abhorre so detestable practises; other meanes, though they diseru'd [Page 48] the worst, and basest, honest and noble hearts did detest them. This done, we parted euery one a seuerall way, and to a seuerall King, to make our mi­sery more manifest; out of Iustice demanding their ayde, to pull downe wickednesse, and againe settle worth in Romania, my selfe remaining one whole yeare after, nere the Hellispont disguised, and almost begging my ly­uing, with this my last hope. Still they sought vs while wee were among them, but then perceiuing the continuall hazard, and ablenesse in this latter Antissius to trauell; We left Greece, my selfe alone going with him: But how this was difcouer'd, or that this young man must inherite his Fathers misfortunes, we hardly did escape taking. Vpon the missing of vs, Ambassa­dours were sent in all haste to all the neere Princes, to whom with much falsehood, their false fault was couered with as foule a vaile, working so farre as beliefe, or feare of warre made shew of, so much as preuented the succour we had hoped for. Finding this, we tooke this Boate, coasting (not daring to stay any where) till we could be secure, Many places we haue seene, but found none to rescue misfortune: not caring whither we went, so we were freed from her malicious power. Hither Fate hath brought vs, and here we haue found, and seru'd some Noblemen, and good Princes, who haue pro­mis'd their helpe: so as, if you (braue Prince) Parselius, and these with you will likewise assist vs, I feare not, but assure my selfe of our hoped-for com­fort. Thus if pitty dwell in you, you will pitty vs, and this Allimarlus is your Lord, and Prince. Parselius then embraced him, so did Steriamus and Sela­rinus: all promising (their former vowes, and businesse ended) they would attend and rescue them, in the meane time, they would aduise them to leaue that shore, for feare of danger, considering the Charmes, which yet to any but such as aduentured the Towres, or vnfortunatly dranke of the Riuer were nothing: yet that scarce knowne, made cause of doubt. So they re­solu'd and betooke themselues to the Sea, when they saw floating vpon the water, a man past sense or power to helpe himselfe, being now subiect to the Sea, and the disposition shee might bee in to destroy him, or succour him. Parselius in Charitie willed them to goe towards him, the Tyde bringing him a pace (as in loue of him) that way. Being neare, hee perceiued the man to be his deare Friend Leandrus, who (in the same fury they had be­fore falne into, but wanting such helpe as they had) ran into the Sea, mis­ [...]ing a Boate to conuay him, but not fury to cast away himselfe, crying out he would haue Antissia in spite of the valiantest blacke Knight. But quick­ly was he cool'd with losse of strength, to saue himselfe from losse, senses were come to him, but alas, too soone to lose them againe, and life with them, if this happy aduenture had not come vnto him. For then cry [...]d out Parselius, O take vp that worthy body, saue that noble person from such losse; with this they made to him, taking him vp, and after much care, getting life againe, to put it selfe into the Cage of the body, when knowing his friends, but forgetting all things else, they embraced, as soules would (if not by a greater ioy hinder'd) reioyce in the other world, for encountring their best friends. On they rowed, sometimes Parselius and the other Princes ayding the old man; taking their turnes till they discouer'd a Morean Ship, to which they haled. She comming, and her rulers knowing their Prince, with all ioy and dutie receiu'd him, and his company into her. Then securely they [Page 49] sayled towards Greece: where being landed in Morea, they determined, that since instant ayde could not be giuen them, they should there in a strong Castle remayne, not Prisoners, but Commanders of that place, being an im­pregnable Fort, and in such a place, as none could land without their fauour; so might they vse the opportunitie of place, and time. The Romanian Knight, after this place was by the Prince deliuer'd to Seleucius and his Nephew An­tissius (in the same ship had thither brought them) tooke againe to the Sea, intending to goe into Romania, and so hired them for Constantinople. But soone were they alter'd: for meeting another ship which desir'd to know something (the cause of that ships iourney being for discouerie) hee found in her the ancient seruant, and the same faithfull Captaine who had so loyally seru'd the first Antissius. Finding him (and by him, that the Prince was to be found) he with him returned to the Castle: where being receiu'd, and ready to make his discourse, I will leaue him, and goe againe to Parselius, who tooke the directest way to the Court, which was then kept in Arcadia, being a time the King had in pleasure made a iourney that way, to delight himselfe in that most delightfull Countrey. Being there arriu'd, no ioy could be com­par'd to the Kings and Queenes, seeing their deerest Sonne return'd: but little ioy felt he, Vrania being lost, which onely to Pamphilia he discouer'd, who out of a deere and sisterly affection, the like bewayled absence. Sports and pleasures were euery day offer'd, while he still knew of none, being in them as in another World; onely wherein his owne person was required, there his valour failed not, though his Soule which gouern'd that, was other­where. Some dayes this lasted: but Parselius, whose loue still vrg'd him, could haue no rest, colouring his paine with the losse of his friend and cousin, which indeed was the cause, but in the feminine gender. The King was the lesse displeas'd, because it was on so worthy a subiect; yet he was sorry, be­ing the louingest of Fathers, that his deerest sonne should be displeas'd, and most troubled, when hee saw hee would not stay, but againe goe seeke his Friend. Yet before his depart, he gayn'd the promise of his Father, to rayse men to assist Steriamus in his iourney, to conquer his right: which was gran­ted both for that iust Cause, and likewise, because the faire young Princesse Meriana, Queene of Macedon, by right should be vnto her right restor'd. Thus departed Parselius, leauing Steriamus and his Brother to attend their businesse, and see the men rays'd, himselfe promising within fit time to take their iourney to returne. Leandrus likewise accompanying Parselius to the Court, gaue his word to vse his best power in gayning forces from his Fa­ther, to assist in this deseru'd occasion, they hauing suffer'd for their Parents loues. To which end he went into Achaya, giuing his hand to Parselius, to be with him in Morea within six moneths, which was the time appointed for their marching forwards towards Macedon, or Albania, as at their next meeting they would agree on. Thus they parted: Parselius as his destinie would guide him, Leandrus to Achaya, and the other Princes remayning in Arcadia with the King, very much esteemed of.

But soone after the Court remooued neerer to the Sea; while Amphi­lanthus, who hath beene too long forgot, not being time enough remem­bred, being the most matchlesse Prince with the faire Antissia, being in the [Page 50] Merchants house as the Romanian Knight told Parselius, finding fit time, and longing to meete his friend, with the Princesse, and the honest paire, took their way towards the Court where the king liued: by the way it was An­tissia's fortune, to marke (with so yeelding a heart) the louelinesse, sweetnes, brauerie, & strength of the famous Amphilanthus, which in many aduentures hee made testimony of in her sight, before their gaining the Court, as this (alas) made her acknowledge, she had seene but him, who might be thought a Prince, shee had heard of none but him, all others vertues being single in them, but knit in one in him. This made her like, that made her loue: and so she did (poore Lady) to her lost libertie; he, the more he saw her respect to him, answered it with his to her: kindnesse then betray'd them, she shewing it, he (as a kind-hearted Prince to Ladies) receiuing it. By this time they were content to think they loued, and so to know those paines. He was not vnex­perienced, therefore soone saw remedy must be giuen: and cruelty hee ima­gin'd it would be in him, who discern'd he might by his art helpe her, if hee refus'd that good, to one so faire, and so kindly louing. This made him in charitie watch his opportunitie, or at least not to loose any, being most with her; and contentedly, because louingly passing the time, entertaining them­selues with fine discourse many howers together. The good people wearie with trauelling or seeking other necessaries for them, necessarily leauing them then, not with much complaining of their absence.

At last they came vnto the Court, being two moneths after the depar­ture of Parselius, and the next weeke after the secret departure of Steriamus, which was such, as hereafter you shall heare. His arriuall was as pleasing to the People and Prince, as faire weather is after a storme, or plenty fol­lowing a great dearth: so generally and particularly was hee beloued; his enemies (for no great man, nor good man liues without) being forced in truth to confesse hee deseru'd much admiration. Hee came pleasantlie thither, and for some dayes continued so: but after, whether misse of his friend Parselius, or some other priuate cause to himselfe mooued him, is not knowne: but sad hee grew, and shunning all other companie, would retire himselfe with Antissia into Pamphilia's chamber, where hee would, when hee speke, direct his speech to her; still blaming her brothers for so strangely leauing their Country, he could not offer speech to her, which she receiued not with much respect, yet was shee generally the most silent and discreetly retir'd of any Princesse. But one day as they were alone together, some discourse falling out of the beautie of Ladies, Amphilan­thus gaue so much commendations of Antissia, as she betweene dislike, and a modest affection, answered, hee had spoke sufficiently in her praise: for truly my Lord, said she, me thinkes there is not that beautie in her as you speake of, but that I haue seene, as faire and delicate as shee; yet in truth shee's very white, but that extreame whitenesse I like not so well, as where that (though not in that fulnesse) is mix'd with sweete louelines; yet I cannot blame you to thinke her peerelesse, who viewes her but with the eyes of affection. Amphilanthus gaue this reply; That hee till then had neuer seene so much Womanish disposition in her, as to haue so much prettie enuie in her, yet in his opinion (except [Page 51] her selfe) he had not seene any fairer, Antissia with that came to them, which brought them into other discourses, til they were forced to part. They gone, Pamphilia alone began to breath out her passions, which to none shee would discouer, resoluing rather so to perish, then that any third should know shee could be subiect to affection. Alas, would she say (weeping to her selfe) what haue I deserued to bee thus tyrannically tortured by loue? and in his most violent course, to whom I haue euer been a most true seruant? Had I wrong'd his name, scornd his power, or his might, then I had been iustly censured to punishment: but ill Kings, the more they see obedience, tread the more vp­on their subiects; so doth this all conquering King. O loue, look but on me, my heart is thy prey, my self thy slaue, then take some pity on me. Being hea­uie, she went into her bed, but not with hope of rest, but to get more libertie to expresse her woe. At last, her seruants gone, and all things quiet, but her ceaselesse mourning soule, she softly rose out of her bed, going to her win­dow, and looking out beheld the Moone, who was then faire and bright in her selfe, being almost at the full, but rounded about with blacke, and broken clouds. Ah Diana (said she) how doe my fortunes resemble thee? my loue and heart as cleare, and bright in faith, as thou art in thy face, and the fulnesse of my sorrowes in the same substance: and as thy wane must bee, so is my wane of hopes in my loue; affections in him, being as cold to me, as thou art in comparison of the Sunnes heate: broken ioyes, blacke despaires, incirkling me, as those disseuered clouds do striue to shadow by straight compassing thy best light. When she had (as long as her impatient desires would permit her) beheld the chast Goddesse, she went to her bed againe, taking a little Cabi­net with her, wherein she had many papers, and setting a light by her, began to reade them, but few of them pleasing her, she took pen and paper, and be­ing excellent in writing, writ these verses following.

[Page 52]When reading them ouer againe; Fie passion (said she) how foolish canst thou make vs? and when with much paine and businesse thou hast gain'd vs, how dost thou then dispose vs vnto folly, making our choicest wits testimo­nies to our faces of our weakenesses, and, as at this time dost, bring my owne hands to witnesse against me, vnblushingly showing my idlenesses to mee. Then tooke shee the new-writ lines, and as soone almost as shee had giuen them life, shee likewise gaue them buriall. And yet, said shee, loue must doe thus, and sure we loue his force the better for these fansies. Then putting out the light, lest that shuld too soone wast, beholding her passions, which in hot­ter flames continued (then the vnited one of the candle could aspire to com­parison with the smallest of millions of them) turning her in her bed with a deepe loue-sigh, she cried: O loue, thou dost master me.

Thus did the loue wounded Princesse passe that night, or the greater part of it; conuenient time for sports in the morning being come, the king sent for her to attend him and the Queene, to see a match which was made at the Iusts onely, partly to please the king, but most to welcome Amphilanthus. Pamphilia and Antissia were plac'd together; Antissia dearely louing her for her cousins sake; whom so well she lou'd, as she gloried to haue all eares and eyes partake the knowledge of it. Pamphilia did embrace her companie, be­ing excelling in sweet conuersation, as farre as pleasant and harmelesse mirth could extend: and fit was such a companion, for the melancholy which a­bounded in the Princesse. Being at the window, and all hauing once runne ouer, Amphilanthus gaind the first honour. Whereat Antissia being ioyfull, Well may it be bestowed on him (said she), for sure none can in all braue ex­ercises come neere your matchles Cousin, for delicate finenesse, and peere­lesse power. 'Tis true (said Pamphilia): yet if you saw my brother Parselius, you would (and indeed must) confesse, hee comes the neerest to him, and neerely matches him. I know not him (said Antissia), but if he do but second this, you may boldly say, no Princesse liuing can compare with you for a Co­sin and a Brother. By this the match was ended, and the Knights comming to the king, hee gaue them thankes, embracing his best beloued Nephew. Then went each one to his Mistris, to receiue their opinions in the defence of their fauours: Antissia telling Amphilanthus, that in her mind, hee alone deseru'd the honour of that day. He repli'd; Her wishes and fauour did pur­chase him that honour, more power liuing in them, then in his arme or skill. Then did all returne, the Knights conducting euery one his Ladie, Pamphilia went alone, for she not enioying her loue, lou'd to be alone, as she was alone in perfect and vnfortunate louing; thinking so slight a thing as a Knights lea­ding her, might bee a touch in her thoughts to her spotlesse affection, nor would she euer honour any one, with wearing a fauour in those sports; ha­uing vowed, that onely one should enioy all loue and faith from her; and in her constancie (this not being knowne, her passions so wisely gouern'd, as she was not mistrusted to loue so violently) made her of many to be esteemed proud, while it was that flame, which made her burne in the humblest sub­iection of Loues meanest subiects; yet was her choice like her selfe, the best. No day pass'd without some exercises on horseback, wherein Amphilanthus did still adde fame vnto himselfe, by that to make Antissia the more his Pri­soner: But now is the time for his depart in the search of his friend arriu'd; [Page 53] if it grieu'd the Court to part with him? it surely heartily perplexed her, whose life depended on his sight; so it tormented her, as with the flowing of teares, her face was martyred so much, as she was not fit to come in com­pany, hauing turn'd her delightfulnesse to sorrowes, faining her selfe ill, and so keeping her chamber, being seene of none but of Pamphilia, to whom shee had freely discoursed both her affection, and successe in her loue; who like a worthy friend, accōpanied her in this sorrow. The night before he was to go, he came into her chamber to bid her farewell, and to intreate her to remaine there till his returne; the king hauing giuen him his promise, that all honour and respect should bee vs'd to her; the Princesse Pamphilia (he durst say) would doe the like; and for his owne part, care and diligence should not want in him to make his speedy returne. The poore Lady could but with a speechlesse mourning behold him, holding his hand fast in hers, at last sor­row brought foorth these words for her. My Lord, God knowes how I la­ment for your going, how much more must your absence afflict me? As you see the one, and may iudge of the other, haue pittie in hastning hither to her, who till then daily will finde a death-like life. So he tooke his leaue of her, promising to performe her commands: then turning to Pamphilia (who had all this while beheld this so sad, but louing parting), Madam (said he) is there any thing left to make me so happy, as that it may bee in my for­tunes to serue you, and so to be blest with your imployments? My Lord (said she) it is sufficient to be commanded by one, and so beautifull a Lady: for my part, I will entreate your speedy returne, and that you bring my brother with you. With this he left the Ladies, one to lament, the other forc'd to comfort. His iourney he tooke directly toward the sea, meaning at the first conuenient Port to take shipping, and so to passe into Italie, whether, it might be his friend was gone, according to their first agreement. But comming in­to a place not the richest, but well distant from the worst of countries, in a part within some leagues from the sea, the least inhabited of any of those quarters, being somewhat hilly, and desert-like, he went among some of those hills to rest himselfe, chusing one, the side of it being a fine Wood, the foote of it beautified with a pleasant and swift Riuer, before it a prety Plaine which went not farre, before another Hill proudly ouer-lookt her lowlinesse: his horse he gaue to his Squire, himselfe walking downe into the Wood, and be­ing taken with the pleasures of that place, hee laid himselfe among them on the ground, speaking these words: What destiny is this, vnhappy man, that no time will bee permitted mee to endure happy in? How is the world de­ceiu'd, in thinking happinesse consists alone in being belou'd? when as if it proceedes from other then their owne chosen loue, it is a punishment; like as the being cramm'd, when one is full: Loue then (I beseech thee) make me lesse happy in not being lou'd, or truly blest with enioying her heart, who hath made mine her Captiue. But O mee, I doe feare that shee doth loue: wretch that I am, what then must needs befall mee? Death, I cruell'st death, when by a Loue procured. More he was a saying, and surely had discouered his passions in a greater, and more exact manner, but that hee was call'd to at­tention by a delicate (yet dolefull) voyce, a Lute finely plaid vpon, giuing musicke to his Song, which was this.

No sooner had he ended his song, but the same voice (though in a more plaining maner) brought forth these words: O life, O death? why am I cloyd with one, & slaue for the other, much more of me desired? False ioyes, leaue, forc'd pleasure fly me, musick why abide you? since ioy, pleasure, and true musick (which is loue) abandons me, shuns me; alas true piece of misery: I who am despis'd, hated, scorn'd, and lost. Are these my gaines vngratefull loue? take here thy conquest, and glory in thy purchase, while I liue loathing my selfe, and all, but her by whom I remaine a wretched forlorne slaue: yet some comfort I haue to sustaine mee, that I suffer for the rarest and most ex­cellent of women, and so long Cupid vse thy force, and tyrannize vpon my slaughtered heart. These words were to the braue Italian, so iust the image of his owne thoughts, as they were as if his, or like two Lutes tun'd alike, and placed, the one struck, the other likewise sounds: so did these speeches agree to his incumbred thoughts. Willing he was to comfort him, but loth to dis­quiet him, knowing in this estate lonelines, and disburdning of some part of the like griefe doth ease one: wherefore he remain'd in a doubt what to doe, when as the young man (for so he perceiu [...]d from such a one the voyce did come) not caring which way he did take, or seeing any direct path, but that his phantasies led him in, came hard by the place where Amphilan­thus lay, who viewing his youth and delicate beautie, admired and pittied [Page 55] him. He passed on towards the Riuer, his eyes, as it were, imitating the swift running of that streame, his Lute he held in his hand, till againe hauing some more Verses fram'd in his minde (perfect louers neuer wanting in­uention) he againe played, and sung; hauing done, O Loue, said he, once ea [...]e me, or let death seaze me, giuing conclusion to my dolorous daies. What doe I gaine by being a Prince? What auailes it me to hope for a King­domes Gouernment, when she who is my Kingdome to me, and my Prin­cesse doth reiect me? Woe is me that euer I knew Morea; Woe is me that e­uer I beheld Pamphilia; O Phamphili [...], would I were but so much honour'd, as thou wouldst but thinke me worthy to kisse thy hands, that would reuiue me, and for that fauour would I thinke my selfe sufficiently requited for all my torments-bearing.

Amphilanthus hearing his Cousen named, and the young man discouer himselfe to be a Prince, wondring in his trauels he had neuer seene him, de­sirous to be resolu'd of his estate, and name, with all the true cause of his de­sperate griefe, went towards him curteously, and with respect due to him, saluted him thus. Sir, let not, I pray you, my boldnesse in this interrupting your more pleasing thoughts, be displeasing to you, since it is my fortune (not desire to trouble you) which brought me hither, wherefore, I hope, I shal obtaine pardon of you. The young Prince soberly, and a little blushing, answered. No fault can I find with your being here, or any thing except my owne fortune, which thinkes it selfe neuer curst enough to me; but since, as I assure my selfe, you haue heard my Passions, till now neuer knowne to man, let me know by whom I am discouer'd? Vpon promise to haue the like curtesie from you; replyed the valiant King, I wil not hide my selfe from you: He consenting, the stranger Prince began. Then Sir, know I am called Steriamus, Prince and rightfull King of Albania, brought vnto this countrey by the vertuous and noble Prince Parselius, who hath vndertaken to assist me in recouering the Kingdome lost in my Fathers daies, but what talke I of a Kingdome, hauing lost the power of my content and happinesse; now Sir, performe your word: I am said the other, Amphilanthus King of the Romans. Steriamius knowing him to be that famous Prince, in whose search his friend was gone, fast held him in his armes, crying; yet am I happy to see the most renowned Pri [...]ce breathing before I dye; for now may I ending say, I haue seene the worth of the world, and feele her greatest cruelty. Am­philanthus blush [...]d to heare his vertue so extold, but louingly embracing in like manner the Albanian Prince, was againe sollicited by him, to tell him all his story, which in this manner (sitting downe by the Riuer side) he did discourse. My selfe and my brother being brought by that worthy Prince to his Fathers Court, were there left, he first hauing receiu'd promise, and command being giuen for mens raysing, to restore me (miserable me) to my kingdome, as I before told you, he tooke his leaue, being gone in the search of you, but promised returne within six monthes into Morea, being now gone into Italie, hoping to meete you there. I remaining, grieu'd to part with him, but more afflicted with an incurable wound, which in that Court I re­ceiu'd. But before I goe any further, I pray tell me whether you haue late­ly seene the Princesse Pamphilia, for surely then shall I finde one paine trou­bles vs, and one cure onely for vs; I saw her very lately, repli'd Amphilan­thus [Page 56] being but almost now come from her Fathers Court, but for all that you may safely goe on with your discourse.

Then, said he, it was my happinesse to see her, but my misery to fall in loue with her, (cruell she) who if she proue not mercifull to me, I must for her, thus euer suffer: besides, it hinders my going on, in the regaining of Albania; for, what is a Kingdome to me, being subiect to a greater power of the minde? What can that Realme proue to me, if Pamphilia martyr mee? What is a Court to one cast downe to the lowest of Loues slaueries? No Selarinus, thou art worthy, and free, and therefore fit to rule; and God send thee that, and all other good fortunes, and this among the rest, that thou neuer come to the knowledge of thy miserable Brothers end, whose misery did thus begin.

One day as the King and Queene were walking in the Garden, attended on by all the Princes, Ladies, and Knights of the Court, euery one discour­sing as best pleased them, Pamphilia walked alone, none daring to present himselfe to her: such was the respect all bore vnto her, and feare of displea­sing her. I saw her, and with that sight lost my selfe; Loue then emboldned me so, as arm'd with his fire, I went to her, and tooke the boldnesse to walke by her, and offering discourse (I confesse vnworthy of her hearing) shee en­tertain'd me modestly and grauely: Loue for me finding this hope, forc'd me to vse the time, and to speake something of it selfe to her: which shee perceiuing (yet out of pitty not willing too curstly to deale with me) shewd me in her countenance dislike of my speeches. And yet not to put mee too much besides my selfe, called other to her, to adde (as she faign'd) to her company: With a bleeding heart I suffered this disgrace, which yet was by her so handled, as none but my owne soule could witnesse it to any. Thus that day past, sorrow increasing in me, and little mirth growing in her. Oft times would she be ready to sigh, but louing that breath, which shee drew for so loued a cause, she did striue to fetch it backe againe; or else it was to couer her long breathing. Many daies this continued, till one night stan­ding in a round window in a great Galerie, a Lady who did much vse to ac­company the Princesse (though she be of the Queenes Chamber) standing by her. Madam, said she, did you euer see so silent a Prince as this is? Surely if he were to winne his Kingdome by words, as it must be done by swords, the Countrey might remaine a long time without the lawfull King. Pam­philia looked (O me a deadly wound that sweetest looke did proue) plea­singly vpon me, saying, My Lord, you see this Lady finely begs discourse from you. Alas Diuine Princesse, said I, what discourse can proceed from a dead man? I neuer heard till now, said shee, that dead men walk'd, and spake. Yes Madame, cry'd I, as you haue seene trees continue greene in their branches, though the heart be quite dead, and consum'd away, hol­lownesse onely remayning: And so is nothing left in me but empty hope, and flourishing despaire. Is there no cure, said she? Yes that there is, said I. Shew it, said she: I looking about, and seeing the other Lady parted from me, besides hard by a faire Glasse (many hanging as ornaments in that Gallery) I tooke it vp turning it to her, mine eyes onely speaking for me. She (with seeing her face, saw my cause of torment) said as little as I: onely ta­king the Glasse turn'd the other side, which was dull like my gaines, and with [Page 57] as much scorne and contempt, as could appeare in so much beauty (like as if the Sun would in spite shew himselfe in a storme), she turnd from me. I stood still, for indeed I could not moue, til for my last comfort, sense came to mee, to shew me, I was in no fit place so to betray my passions: wherefore getting so much strength (although no more, then as men after a long sicknes gaine, when they goe with feeble ioynts, the length of a roome; so much had I), and that little with much ado, brought me to my chamber, where I opened my brest to al sorrow, and let mine eies make ful sea of teares. Thus I remaind, till this resolution took me, to wander I car'd not whither, so it were far from knowledge of any, and to leaue that most cruell beauty to her owne content; which yet I feare she hath not, though I truly wish shee had. I call'd my bro­ther to me, telling him he must be secret to me, as he did hope for loue from mee: which hee vowed, not mistrusting what I meant, till 'twas too late to goe backe. With sobs and teares hee besought mee to alter: but I told him there was no remedie, nor must he breake his oath. Then against his heart he said, he must obay. My charge was this; neuer to reueale my manner of go­ing, nor euer to seeke after me, or suffer any that he could hinder. Then went I to Pamphilias chamber, where I humbly desired to speake with her; shee gaue me leaue: but when I was ready to say something she preuented me. If you haue, said she, any busines, I shalbe ready to do you any seruice in it: but if it be concerning your glasse discouery, know this, you shall doe best to bee silent; for a greater offence you cannot doe mee. Alas Madam (said I), haue you no pitie for me? I haue pity for any (said she), leaue this folly, and I shall wish you well. That was so cold a fauour for my desires, and my dutifull af­fection such to her, as not to giue her the least cause of dislike, besought her, she would honour me but so much, as I might kisse her hands before my de­parture, which was forc'd by an aduenture, calling me away: she nobly grāted that, and said, she wisht me good fortune. I told her, my fortune could only be made by her. Then can it proue little, said she. With trembling and death-like palenes I left her lodgings, hauing yet the fauour which my lips receiu'd, in touching her fairest hand; which kisse shall neuer part from me, till these my lips doe kisse with death. Then wandred I away, till I came hither; neuer fin­ding any place to please me, nor, alas, doth this, or can any thing but her pity please; only this is lesse distastefull, then those where greater noises be. Here I am quiet, but for my owne quiet, but for my griefe, which neuer giues mee rest. In a little caue in the ground is my lodging, one Squire attending mee, who from a Towne not farre hence fetcheth me prouision: this Lute (a qua­lity I learnd in the Court since my comming thither) misfortune, and my Mi­strisses disdaine, my discourse and companions: and thus liues, and daily dies the reiected Steriamus. Hauing finished his tale, his eies flowed againe with teares, as if it were their office to giue the full stop of his discourse. Amphilan­thus embracing him; Steriamus (said he) leaue these lamentations; for a fury in one (who how worthy soeuer, yet being a woman), may change. How many haue bin condemnd for cruely, that after haue prou'd kind enough? yet speak I not this of Pamphilia, who hath still kept a constant resolution to her selfe. But sure some strange occasion makes her (so full of iudgement and sweet­nesse) carrie so strict a course in your affections: yet let not that make you for­get your selfe. The poore Albania (poore in missing you) calls vpon you, [Page 58] the rest of the world hath need of such Princes: then let not passion ouer­throw a braue spirit: absence can bring no hope, presence and desert may, if any thing. Or say she neuer loue you, there are other faire Ladies, who will be liker themselues, pitifull and louing. Neuer shall other loue possesse my heart (cride he), and that O heauens still witnesse for mee, and behold this vow, That when I change, it shall be vnto death. Then shutting his hands one fast within the other, he groaning said; Nor euer let these hands part, if I part from this my loue. Time (said he) will giue you (I trust) vnexpected cause of cōfort, in the meane time let vs talk of somthing els. Then Steriamus inuited Amphilanthus to the Caue, dearely louing him for his braue aduice, but most for his cosins sake. There they sat together, lay together, & pass'd some dayes together, till the Albanian was ouercome with the Italians (neuer-fayling) perswading speeches; so as they tooke their course towards the sea, falling in­to that way which brought them directly to the Castle, where young Antis­sius and his Vncle were by Parselius left. There they found them, and met the honest Captaine, who was brought thither by the Romanian Knight, who after the whole discourse was told to Amphilanthus, as before it had been to Parselius by the old Prince, and young Knight, continued the story thus. Af­ter that (deuill of women) the Kings wife had wrought the ruine of Romania, Proclamations out for the bringing of either or both of you, for which large summes of money were offered: but if you could be deliuer'd in aliue, those summes, and great honours with braue possessions: you my Lord made a Traytor, and you Sir hauing your head at sale. Then obtained she, that her sonne was made heire apparant to the Crowne; and that if the King happned to die, while the new Prince was vnder yeares, that then she would gouerne as Protectresse, till hee came of age. This sure, shee grew wearie of the old man, whose age, and dotage (she hauing imploy'd them to her vse, was now cloy'd with them) troubled her; to bee rid of him was then her study. At last finding an easie way (as she thought) shee cald one of her seruants to her (being one who ambitiously sought to win the honour, of being her fauou­rite) leading him into a priuate Cabinet, where she plotted al her wickednes; there she began with false and forged flattrings to intice him to her purpose; dissimulation, and protestation of her affections she wanted not, to draw him into the yoke of her witch-craft. And what (said she) though the world doe taxe me for louing many? doe not you accuse me, my onely deere; for soo­ner will I die, then wrong your loue. If my fashion, which is free and familiar, make you doubt me? consider why it is, since it were neither wisdome, nor safety for vs, to vse you only kindly in al sights. The graces others haue, is but to blind their eies, which els would be cleere sighted to our ill, and this euen by the loue you beare me, I coniure you to belieue; and this should you well find, were I at liberty and free. What freedome would you aske? To be my selfe, said shee, and so to take a husband I could loue, as I loue you; and so would make you, were the old man dead. Is that the bar, cride he, deere La­dy? He is dead, or euen as good, for two daies is his longest terme of life. That done, enioy me, who am onely thine; and verily the thing is easie, safe; and doubtlesse doe it then, and by it purchase me. He long time bewitcht with her craft, allur'd by her beautie, and continued in error by her falsehoods, be­leeu'd she spake vnfained from her heart, letting himselfe couet that, which [Page 59] with murder (and treacherous murder) they must gaine frō the true owner But he lookt no further then his loue, to compasse which, no meanes seem'd ill, so partiall was he to his vild desires. Thus was his word engaged, and the kings life limited; which end of time being come, they inticed the graue man into a Parke, where they murdred him, bringing home the old body be­smear'd in his owne bloud, couerd with their mantles (as the fault was with their fained talles), which were, that in the Wood certaine men, hired as it was likely by you, set vpon him, killed him, and wounded them; shewing some slight wounds which they had (for the greater shew of truth) giuen themselues. The Queene being brought to this sad fight, tooke on strangely, rending her clothes, crying, and euen howling so, as most did pitie her, and few or none accuse her guilty of the crime, so cunning was she in her deepe deceits. Then was the Councel cald, who came, in shew sad, but in harts ioy­full, wicked men, louing nothing more then change; they brought also the young king to his mother. The people being assembled, and the false report of the kings death deliuerd, wherwith they were satisfied, pitying the woun­ded body, yet crediting the murderers. Thus was the poore doting King re­warded for his fondnes. A funerall was made with all ceremonious cost and pompe, the young vnlawfull king being that day crowned, as soone as the bo­dy was interred. This was yet but one part of the play, the other soone fol­lowed. She thinking her selfe no way secure (so many knowing of her sin) to auoide punishment on earth, would run yet faster to meet more punishments cause, in the other world, by heaping murders vpon murders: for inuiting all those except her Minion) to a priuate banquet, she poison'd them, reseruing the fauourite for some other vertuous purpose; who being in the pride of his desires, expecting when he should be made her husband, often vrg'd it: but shee put it off with pretence of feare, least that the too sudden marriage might giue occasion to the world to doubt, what was most true, and what their guiltinesse made them mistru [...]t.

Thus it past a while like a calme tide after a tempest: her sonne and shee being in full possession of all, the neighbour kings sent to condole the death of the king, and to congratulate the other, whether out of loue, or desire of peace (a sweete thing to spritelesse Princes). Among the rest came one, who accompanied the Embassadour of Morea, a Gentleman of excellent parts, winning the loue of all that conuersed with him, hauing a modest gouernment ouer a strong and daintie wit: but as hee was in this happie, hee was crost with the violent loue of the chastlesse Queene, who affected him after her wonted fashion, but so fondly and intemperately, as shee caus'd most to looke with gazing eyes on her: hee was not of the highest stature, though farre from being low; his haire faire, and that beard hee had, something inclind to yellow. Shee saw this Gentleman (who since I learnd, was Sonne to the Duke of Mantinea, and Captaine of a troope of Horse, which was part of the Kings Guard, and the Noblest part; because that Companie must euer bee choice men, and all Gen­tlemen): Shee wooed him, plainely said, Shee loued him. Yet could not this preuaile, wroth in him, withstanding all her baites: which be­ing meant as refusals, prou'd inticements to bring her on; like a Spa­niell, that fawnes on the mans crueltie. Her passions then growne im­moderate [Page 60] and vngouernable, yeares increasing in her, and strength of iudge­ment failing her more then in her youth, gaue such open testimonie of her loue, as her latter seruant (but companion in mischiefe) perceiu'd it; his con­fidence hauing been such, as that blinded him long time, giuing libertie and assurance in that to her, and her ends, which neuer were but either politike, or lasciuious. But he as hauing new sight giuen him to see her shame, and his owne together; hate taking the place of loue, his desires flew to the ruine of her, as before to the continuance of their dayes in their owne pleasures neuer enough enioy'd. Hee plotted to vndoe her, and watched the opportunity, which he obtaind by his diligent prying; that, bringing him to discouer her going into her Cabinet with his stranger, pretending there to shew him [...]ome iewels. They were no sooner within the roome (shee hauing but put the doore a little to, not close), but her inraged enemy came, and finding meanes of discerning what was to be seene, lost it not, but stood still looking in [...] She (whose thoughts caried her to higher points then care) took no heed of that which most concern'd her: for there hee saw her with all passionate ardency, seeke, and sue for the strangers loue, yet he vnmoueable, was no fur­ther wrought, then if he had seene a delicate play-boy acte a louing womans part, and knowing him a Boy, lik'd onely his action; then with much adoe he brought forth these words: Alas Madam, why seeke you at my hands your dishonour and my shame? How dare you venter your honour in the power of a stranger, who likely would vse it to his glory, and your reproch? Besides you know I loue one, whose worth and truth must not be hurt, or blotted in my fault, my life not worthy to satisfie the crime, should her vnspotted loy­altie suffer for my sinne. Yet satisfie my desire (said she) and then loue whom you will. Loue whom you will (cry'd out the furious forsaken) rushing in­to the roome as much vnexpected, and vnwelcome, as thunder in winter, which is counted prodigious. The Queene stood amazed while hee vsed these speeches; Fie faithlesse Woman, verifier of that fault whereof I ho­ped, women had been slandred, and not subiect vnto: haue I obeyed you in your wicked and abominable treasons, thus to be rewarded? She finding hee had not onely found her, but also had discouered her false-hood, withal con­sidering his rage, she fell at his feet, asking pardon. Pardon your selfe, said he, if you can, and me who want it, as drought doth water: Be your protestations, vowes, and daily giuen oathes come to this? With that most furiously hee ran towards he, but the Morean in humanitie sau'd her from hurt by him; but to hinder that, he was forc'd to struggle with him, who was a strong man, and then had double power. This noyse cal'd in some that waited without, others ran to tell the king, either to shew forwardnesse in seruice, or indeed busines, not caring what they carry, so it be newes; wanting the chiefest part, which is iudgement, to know, where, when, and what to tell. But in briefe, the king came, and finding this vnfortunat disorder, not being able to win from them by faire meanes the truth, (to auoyde all ill) committed them to prison, from whence (for the speedier, and so more secure proceeding) the next morning they were brought to publike arraignement: but the King was not present, fearing those things (which after brake forth) would then be blowne forth. And indeed it was so, for the accused being demaunded what he could say in his owne defence; said, Nothing but wherein he must accuse himselfe. Being [Page 61] vrged to that, hee confest all, finishing his speech thus; For her sake, by her consent, knowledge, and command, I slew the King; shee hauing giuen mee her faith (which as a faith I esteemd; but alas, it was a shadow put in a false light) that she would marry me; this added to a naturall ambition I had to greatnesse, not iudicially weighing, how heauy in iustice this weight of ho­nor should bee, so diuellishly sought for, or attained. For this hee was con­demned to die, the manner by foure wild horses: but before his execution she was examined, with whom few words were vsed, before she confest her selfe guilty. She was likewise condemned (for being a subiect, shee was vn­der the law), and so had her head struck off, the stranger was deliuered free a­gaine. Many pitied her, to whom she had done good (for none can be found so ill, that some will not commiserate); yet the most (like the base world) left her, hauing held with her while her power shin'd, but now set with her light, running to the rising strength, not to the declin'd: few said, shee was wrongfully put to death, either for loue to her, or to make busines: for no soo­ner was she dead, but one of her antienter fauorites rose in rebellion, the peo­ple apt to take any occasion to stirre new afflictions: but a great party he hath go [...]ten, and so much gaind, as the King is now shut vp in the great City of Constantinople, the Rebell (as the vnlawfull king doth call him) besieging him, and vowing neuer to lay downe Armes, till he hath gotten him in his power: and now do they all cry out for Antissius, honouring the very name as a god; wishing for you Sir, and vowing if they can recouer you, to make you their King. Thus haue I left them, the Generall (for so he is called) hauing inioy­ned me to find you out; they are infinite strong, and want but you, and some braue men to gouerne them. Goe now I beseech you; neuer had Romania more need, nor shall you euer finde a fitter time.

The Princes sat a while in consultation, at last they resolu'd presently to take the iourney in hand, not holding it good to loose so fit an opportunitie. The Squire of Amphilanthus was sent to find Parselius in Italy, and to ac­quaint him with their affaires, withall to entreat his company. This conclu­ded on, all went to rest, Steriamus desiring, that because his name was not yet knowne by desert, it might be still kept secret; and most he desired it, by rea­son of his vow. They agreed to it, and he was only call'd, The true despis'd, which was all the deuice in his shield. Amphilanthus did desire to be held vn­knowne too: but his reason was, that it was not so safe for so famous a man to be commonly knowne, in so great & imminent dangers; besides, the renowne of him, might make many refuse the combate with him, who else hee might for sport or profit encounter: hee had Loue painted in his shield, and was call'd, The Knight of Loue.

Towards Romania with prosperous winds they sailed, chusing the way by sea as the shortest, and lesse troublesome. In a fit and short time they arriu'd in Romania, landing a little from the Towne, for feare of vnknowne dangers, and so they past to the Armie, where Antissius and his Vncle being knowne, vnspeakable ioy was made, the Generall yeelding all into his hands, and ta­king his authority from him. Vpon this the Vsurper sent for a Truce, but that was denied: then hee desired (rather then to continue immur'd in that kind, besides, ready to bee famisht), that they would bring three Knights into the field, the which number hee would also bring, himselfe [Page 62] being one, and those sixe to end the businesse, which side ouercomming, the other should depart with peace, and neuer make more warre [...] one a­gainst another. This was accepted, Amphilanthus and Steriamus being two, the third they had not yet appointed, nor would, till the day of combate; still expecting some famous Knight, or Parselius himselfe, might come to fill the number: if none, then the young Knight their first acquaintance should be the man.

The day come, when as the Lists were made without the Towne, the Iud­ges appointed, old Seleucius, Vncle to Antissius, and the honest Captaine Lisandrinus, were the Iudges for their side: on the other, were the Admirall, and Marshall of Romania. The Gates were all set open, and free libertie giuen euerie one to passe where hee listed, onely inioyn'd to goe vnarm'd. The first that entred into the field was the King, on each hand of him his two Companions in fight; before him six men bare-headed, one carrying his Helme, three other his Speares, the two last his Sword and Sheild: his Armour was greene, floured with Gold; the furniture to his Horse of the same colour, cut into Garlands of Laurell, and embroide­red with Gold; but so artificially ioynd together, as they seemd when the Horse stird, to rise as ready to crowne each part of his conquest. In his Shield he had a crowne of Bayes, held vp by a Sword; Word he had none, so as it seemd he staid for that, till his hoped for victorie had prouided one for him. The other Knights were both alike in Watchet and Gold; their deui­ces a blew Cloud, out of which sparkled fire.

But then came the honour of his sexe, neuer enough admired, and be­lou'd Amphilanthus, his Armour was white, fillited with Rubies; his fur­niture to his Horse Crimson, embroydred with Pearle; his Shield with the same [...] deuice, from which hee tooke his name. Steriamus according to his fortune was in Tawny, wrought all ouer with blacke. As they were en­tring, a braue Gentleman in a murry Armour, fillited with Diamonds, his furniture richly wrought with Siluer and Gold, came to Amphilanthus, vsing these words: My Lord, your worth cannot bee hid, though you haue ob­scured your name; they both (but the former most) ties mee to be your ser­uant, and as the first fauour I shal receiue, beg the honor of being third in this braue exploit; not that I am so ignorant, as to thinke my selfe worthy of be­ing your Companion, but wholly out of ambition to serue you. Amphilan­thus looking vpon him, seeing the richnes of his Armes, and the brauerie of his Personage, being as comely and strong [...] set, as euer hee had seene any, made him this answer. Sir, the honor is mine, to gaine so braue a Companion and friend, wherein I reioyce; and in place of your loue to me, giue you mine, which is and shall be firme vnto you, and with all my heart embrace your offer to bee the third, not now doubting of the victorie, hauing so hap­py a beginning. Then they imbraced, and taking him on the left hand of him, and Steriamus on the right, they went on to the Iudges: and all sixe meeting together, speaking some few wordes one to another, they parted to meete, neuer more to part on some sides. Amphilanthus en­countred one of the Watchet Knights, Steriamus the King; and the For­rest Knight (so being called, because of his Deuice, which was a great and pleasant Forrest, most pleasantlie set forth, as the cunning of [Page 63] the rarest Painter could deuise) met the other watchet knight. The first Knight lost his Stirrop, else there was no aduantage on any side, and thus they continued the three courses; then lighting and drawing their swords, there grew the cruellest, and yet delightfullest Combate, (if in cruelty there can be delight) that Martiall men euer performed, or had beene seene by iudging eyes: for neuer was courage, magnanimity, valour, skill, and nim­blenesse, ioyn'd better together; so as indeed a Kingdome was too low a prize for such a Combate. Long it continued, till the Knight of Loue, dis­daining one man should hold out so long with him, gaue him such a wound in the head as therewith he fell downe dead at his feete. At the same instant the King gaue Steriamus, a great hurt in the body, but he was quickly paid with a wound in the belly, which gaue him his discharge, and freed him from any more trouble of ruling or obeying. The Knight of the Forrest seeing his Companions good fortune, knew it his part to accompany them, so as with a surely giuen stroke, the head of the other, and last knight fell to kisse his feete. Steriamus was carried presently into the Towne, where by the helpe of a good Chyrurgion, he was soone recouered. The Iudges all in face glad, (howsoeuer some of their hearts were affected) came to them, who with the rest, presently proclaymed Antissius King, who was by the people receiued with much ioy at the Coronation, which was within short time. Antissius created the Generall, Duke of Neapolis, and Lysandrinus Duke of Selybria.

All things being in quiet, the Knight of Loue would needes returne into [...]orea, to see things fitting for Steriamus, and to accompany him in his Conquest. With him went the Knight of the Forrest, betweene whom grew so strict a bond of Friendship, as was neuer to be broken, they two ly­ing together in one roome, Steriamus in another, by reason of his hurt. Amphilanthus in the night often turn'd, and turning, still did end with sighes. The Forrest Knight perceiu'd it, yet let him alone till the morning, when being ready to rise; My onely friend, said he, Your last nights ill rest made mine vnpleasing to me, and most, because mine ignorance hinders me from being able to serue you. I cannot be yet so bold to demand the cause, since what proofe haue you of me, that I should thinke you might esteeme mee worthy of such a fauour? Yet this you may be confident of, that death shall ceaze me, before I refuse to venter life to obtaine your desires; and lose it rather, then reueale any secret you shall impart to me. Amphilanthus an­swer'd, that he saw vnexpected good happen to him in al things (especially in this blessed friēdship) but in that which he most sought for, nor would I con­ceale the cause of this my paine from you, were it once discouer'd to her from whom I suffer it, but till then I must conceale it; and you, I hope, on this occasion will excuse me: and for proofe of your accepting this for that which it is, being truth, tell me your loue, and fortune in it, which shall binde me to confidence, and ingage me to the relation of mine. My Lord, said he, to satisfie you (which is the all of my wishes) vnderstand, that my poore selfe (onely rich in the honour of being your friend) hunting one day in a great forrest, my Father, the king of Bohemia, and many other Princes of Germanie, being assembled; It was my fortune following the sport more eagerly then the rest, to goe so farre from my company, as I was [Page 64] left in the woods all night: there I tooke my lodging, resting free from passion, if not rage, for wanting iudgement so to be lost. In this night, and middest of it (for I wak'd with the dreame, and found it was not day) me thought I saw a Creature, for shape a woman, but for excellencie, such as all the rarenesin that sexe, curiously, and skilfully mixed, could but frame such an one; and yet but such a one in shew, like a Picture well drawne, but the sub­iect more perfect, apparelled in greene, her haire hanging carelesse, nothing holding it, but a delicate Garland, which she wore vpon her head, made of Pansies, and Wood-binds. Her face bare, boldly telling me, not I onely, but all hearts must burne in that purenesse: Eyes like the perfect'st mixtures of heauenly powers, not to be resisted but submitted to. Lipps fully comman­ding the plenty of duty, when they seem'd to demaund obedience: Her neck the curiousest pillar of white Marble, breast of Snow, or smooth waues of Milke, swelling, or falling, as the sweet gale of her most sweet breath did rise, or slacke. All other parts so exquisite as none, saue onely she, can be so excelling. This I found in her, who me thought, came to mee vsing these words. Arise, leaue Bohemia, and rescue me from the hands of Rebels. I cride out, stay, O stay, and tell me how, and where [...] In Hungaria, said shee, with that I wak'd hauing her Image so perfect in my breast, as nothing can remooue it from me. A pretty while I lay still, wishing to sleepe againe, so once more to haue beheld her; but she was too rich a Iewell slightly to appeare to such worthlesse eyes. Contented with that I had seene, I lay fee­ding on that and my resolution which was to seeke her. When day began to appeare, what ioy was it to me [...] But for my greater comfort I found hard by me this Armour laid with this Shield, and Sword. I staid not but put it on, thinking with myselfe how to attaine to the honour of Knight-hoode, my Father hauing refused it to me, because my elder Brother, being weake and sickly, had not demanded it; resoluing I should attend his encrease of strength, my Fathers whole content being in that Sonne. Considering this, I knew it no way to goe to him: wherefore arm'd, (my Squire carry­ing my Sword, I passed vnto the Emperours Court, who without delay gaue me what I demanded, honoring me with the gift of an excellent Horse, and furnishing me with all conueniencies.

Then tooke I my way for Hungarie, which Kingdome I had no sooner entred, but I mett the newes of a great rebellion made by the vncle Kings Bastard sonne, called Rodolindus, against the Daughter and Heire of the se­cond brother, called Melasinda, who was Crowned Queene, after the de­cease of her Vncle and Father. But hee enuying her greatnesse, and am­bitiously seeking the honour himselfe, claym'd a contract betweene the King and his mother, with all vowes and protestations of marriage. Wit­nesses he produced, true or false they made a terrible stirre, and brought the fairest Malasinda into great danger. Troopes I continually mett, some with the Queene, some against her: with much difficultie I pass [...]d till I came to an ancient Lords Castle, within two leagues of the City of Buda, where­she was inclosed; this nobleman held with his Soueraigne, and after much discourse of those affaires, he led me into a Gallery where he shewed mee the picture of that distressed Princesse; truely, I will not say, so well drawn, as that which remaines figur'd in my heart, but so well, as none but her [Page 65] Counterfeit could appeare so beautifull, and such, as I knew it to be the same which in that blessed night in the Forrest shewed her selfe to me. This made me conclude, the aduenture was reseru'd for me: wherefore care­fully examining all things that had passed, and curiously and affectionatly weighing the businesse, and meanes to atchieue the finishing, not leauing any thing vnask'd, that might auaile, concluding to aduenture what ere came of it. The good Lord aduised me, (perceiuing my purpose) to bee ruled by him: which I consented to, when I found hee meant honestly for his Princesse good, and circumspectly for my safety, by no meanes suffering me to enter the Towne, as my selfe, (by reason of a great hate had been be­tweene our Parents) but as an aduentrous Knight, who hearing of her trou­bles offerd my seruice to her. She most faire, most louely [...]hee, accepted me into her seruice, where I performed what was put into my trust: in two dayes killing two of the mightiest, and strongest knights of all his par­ty. In the ende, the Councell of both sides, and the people weary of war, aduised, and agreed vpon a peace, on those conditions, that he should lay downe all claime to the Crowne, yeelding it wholly to her; but in re­quitall, shee should take him for her Husband. This was bitter to her, but this she must doe, or be left alone, people-lesse, and kingdome-lesse. I was but one, and vnable to set the Crowne, and keepe it on her head against the whole state: wherefore louing her so much, as not daring to thinke of any harme to her, in giuing ill aduise, (nor could my soule allow her lesse then the kingdome) with the rest, I perswaded for him; till shee told me; She was sorry she no better deseru'd my loue, but that I would thinke another fitter for it, or she vnworthy of mine.

I swore (and truely) the world had not that treasure I more couetously sought, then her enioying; she vrg'd the vnkindnesse betweene our Parents, made me doubt: I firmely vow'd, her loue made me secure, and happy: but what I did, or said in this, was onely for her good and safety.

With much adoe, and long perswasions I wonne (her loue to mee) her yeelding for the other; so the match was concluded, and peace on all sides, I leading her the day of her marriage to her wedding Chamber, where I left her to her husband; the next morning shee came downe into a little Garden, whereinto no window looked, but that in her Cabinet, nor key could open but her owne. Into this place I was conuay'd by her woman a little before, where meeting her, we passed some houres together. Thus was I the blest man, inioying the world of riches in her loue, and hee con­tented after, hauing what he sought. Thus I liued a while, till I found him alter'd, and the face of the Court a little chang'd towards mee (for for­mer causes they pretended, forgetting me, and what was done by mee for them) which made me, fearing her harme, leaue the Country for a while, which little time to me already seemes ages, being yet but moneths, and few in number, though in loue innumerable. She was sad, and grieu'd for my going; I playd the woman too, and wept at our departing, but soone I hope againe that we shall meete, howsoeuer I will see her, though in pri­uate, and venter life for it. After that I left Hungary, I came through many Countries, till I came into Italie, and so hoping to meete you there; but hea­ring of your being in Morea [...] I went crosse the Sea into that Countrey, and [Page 66] so had mist you, but that I fortunately met your Squire, who seeking Parseli­us enquired of me, for him, and I for you of him. Wee resolu'd each other, I telling him where I had left him, which was in Elis, after a delicate and strange aduenture finishing, and being directed by him how to know you, I was the better instructed to present my seruice to you, which the fame of your worth had long since dedicated to you.

Leaue complements deere friend (said Amphilanthus), it is not now time to vse them, our loues hauing sealed them vp in truth; giue such delicate phrases to your next Mistris. My next: why, thinke you I will change? If you bee wise (said Amphilanthus), and would my fate would change, then were I happy; one such minute, wherof it seemes you haue had seasons, would be more welcome to me, then the Crowne of Naples; yet would I haue her chaste still, and then I hope I should with truth and seruice win her. Is shee yet to be won (said the Bohemian) [...] Yes (said the Italian), by me she is: and what tormenteth me is, I feare she loues my friend. He is no friend that wil not yeeld to you (said he). I should not loue him (said Amphilanthus), if his loue to mee should exceed that to so incomparable a creature. How know you she doth loue (said the Prince) [...] I only feare (said he), and dare not hope it is my selfe: but surely she doth loue. Hope and beleeue (said he) and that will make you bold to shew yours to her, and then who can refuse you? Would this were true, and then had I the only victory I seeke. Aduenture braue Prince (said the Bohemian), neuer yet faild your conquest on men, and women are the weaker and gentler: besides, you are (the world sayes happy in those wars) so fortunate and so louing, as you cannot faile, nor she resist. I am no coward, though mistrust my strength in her sight; her lookes (said Amphilanthus) are to me (if frowning) more terrible then death: yet come what will, I must aduenture; if I obtaine, I will be as free with you, as you haue been with me, else keepe my disgrace, my fortune, and affliction from discouery made by my tongue. Will not your face declare it thinke you? therefore to auoide such inconuenience, woe brauely, and resolutely, and then win ioyfully, and blessedly. Morning being somewhat spent, they rose, and so tooke on their way, Steriamus hauing yeelded to Amphilanthus earnest perswasion, to goe with him into the pleasant Morea. Parselius, after he had left his Fathers Court and friends together, with his sad thoughts, he betook himselfe to Elis, and so to ship for Italy, to fetch his friend to assist the two Princes, and after to goe and redeeme his heart out of the enchantment: as he past along in the country of Elis, one day being so busied, as his thoughts had chāgd him into thēselues, his horse carying him which way he best lik'd he was cald vpon by a rude voice, which wild him, to know himselfe better, then so proudly to carry himself before a Princesse. Looking vp to see what, and who this was, he perceiued close by him a troope of Ladies, all on horse­back, and many Gentlemen and Knights attending them, but one who had aduentur'd to instruct him a little more then the rest, to whom he thus spake; Truly sir (said he) this fault was caused by melancholy, not by rudenes; for I haue bin too wel brought vp to be vnciuil to Ladies. It appeares so indeed, said he, that thus you stand prating to me, and do no reuerence to her who best de­serues it. The Prince angry at his boldnes, but vnwilling to wrangle with him, only turnd to the Ladies, & made a reuerence to thē, offring to passe by thē; [Page 67] but the first Knight seeing that: Stay Sir (said he) you haue not done all, 'tis not a curtesie shall serue, for we must see if your valour be equall to your man­ners. They haue commonly gone together (said Parselius): but where are your Armes? Hard by (said the other), and that you will too soone find. I'm sure (said he) I haue found words enough, which may make me hope to scape the better from your blowes. He went and arm'd himselfe, the like did all the rest, while the Prince stood beholding the Lady, who was of great beauty and brauery; apparreld in a hunting garment of greene cut with red, the vpper and lower part of her gowne embroydred with gold, and red, afea­ther of red and greene in her head; the furniture to her horse of the same co­lour and richnes, to whom Parselius thus spake: Madam, if I had offended you, the least of your corrections had made me submit, without the furie of your Knights, who me thinkes were very confident of the due respect you may challenge, els vnarm'd they would not haue bin so forward to the com­bate. Sir (said she) you are deceiu'd in this, for such is their valour, as none yet euer equall'd them, especially him that first spake; nor haue they reason to trust any further on me, then their owne swords will warrant them in; but indeed the cause of all this, is a vow which I haue made, which is this; My selfe being daughter to the Prince of Elis, which Countrie is in homage sub­iect to the king of Morea, it was my ill fortune to fall in loue with the scorne­full and proud Prince of that Countrie, called Parselius, who did not content himselfe with disdaining me, but boasted of my subiection, and to my selfe, when I with humilitie besought his fauour; he told me, he was no subiect to Loue. This hath made me vow reuenge, to which end I keepe these knights about me, and neuer meete any stranger, that they encounter not, nor shall, till we meete him; and if good fortune fall, that we win him by combate, I will then win him by loue, or obtaine my will by force.

By this the Knights were come, who setting on the braue Prince one after another, he ouerthrew them all, and left them, most not able to goe thence, some starke dead, the best, leggs or armes broken. This done, the Lady a­gaine spake: Sir, since fortune and your power, hath left mee guardlesse, I hope you will conduct me to the Towne, besides, let me know who you are. Madam (said hee) as I take it, by the course of Armes you are mine; for if you were to win mee by their conquest, by the same reason you must be lost, if they be vanquished. Tis true Sir (said she) and such indeed were the con­ditions; yet I had hop'd you would neuer haue called that in question. Nor truly Madam (said he) doe I it, with any meaning to keepe you, though my victory giues you to me: but to shew I am ciuill, and not vnmannerly, I will deliuer you here to your Ladies and Pages; that I am not proud or scornfull, I kisse your hands: but to let you see I disdaine an vnworthy loue, or a forc'd one, Parselius bids you thus farewell, and will yet pray, that your senses may tell you, a lower choice, and an humbler mind will proue more fit and happie for you; and such I wish you, since for mee you haue been dis­tempered.

Thus hee departed, leauing her amazed and afflicted, with hate, disdaine, scorne, and all other shee accused him of, till shame ouercame, and forst her to returne to a good old man her father; whose mild and good ex­ample, brought her to follow the counsell of Parselius, who held on his [Page 68] iourney, taking ship for Italy, he landed in the kingdome of Naples; those ve­ry parts, making him remember that, which too well still continued in his mind, which was the sweet and delicate Iland, wherein he found the swee­test, and delicatest of Shepherdesses; the thought of whom brought forth these words, his heart bleeding as fast, as before his eyes had shed sad drops. O sweet Iland, cride he, and yet desolate Pantalarea, how doe our afflictions suit as one, and so our destinies? Vrania hath left thee, and thou mourn'st; Vrania hath left mee, and I pine. Deerest Vrania, deere vnto me still; why wouldst thou for nouelties leaue thy faithfull Parselius? why wouldst thou not be as well then aduised, as till that time be gouernd by my counsell? Yet foole, most blame thy selfe: for why didst thou permit-her dainty lips to touch that charmed Brooke? nay, still adde vnto thy folly; why wouldest thou drinke so ha [...]tily thy selfe, and so haue no meanes left to helpe or saue? Accursed Spring, from whence did run the ruine of my blisse. Bewitching streame, to charme me to the losse of my soules ioyes; spitefullest of the gods, or goddesses; was it for reuenge, because wee would not trie your charmed house, that yet their cruell triall should be made vpon vs? Vnlucky tempest, constraining vs to land on that much more vnlucky shore. Leauing his ship, he went a land, commaunding his seruants to goe to the Court, and if they came before him thither, there to attend till his comming, but secretly; him­selfe going along the sea-side, his mind as vnrestingly running on Vrania, as a hurt bird, that neuer leaues flying till he falls downe: no more did hee rest, till death-like sleepe did force him to obay; yet were his dreames oft of her, his mind then working, and presenting her vnto his imagination, as in day his thoughts did to his heart: so did the eyes of his louing soule, euer behold her, accusing himselfe for his folly, fearing the power of the charmes, whose wicked might, might alter her; assuring himselfe, shee must be deceiu'd by them, if euer she did change. In this violent feauer of sorrow hee went on, till he discern'd a man come from vnder the ro [...]ks that proudly shewed their craggie faces, wrinkling in the smiles of their ioy, for being aboue the Sea, which stroue by flowing to couer them; but for all that ambition, was forc'd to ebbe in penance for that high desire. He came arm'd at all points, leading in his hand as beautifull a Lady as Nature could frame, and sorrow suffer to appeare so; being such an one, as both had vs'd their best art to frame, and suf­fer to shew excellent; had she bin free, how much more rare must she then of necessity appeare, who in misery shew'd so delicate? The Morean Prince staid to behold, & beholding did admire the exquisitenes of that sad beautie, but more thē that did the cruelty of the armed man seeme wōderful, for leading her to a pillar which stood on the sand (a fit place that the sea might stil wash away the memorie of such inhumanity) he tied her to it by the haire, which was of great length, and Sun-like brightnesse. Then pulled hee off a mantle which she wore, leauing her from the girdle vpwards al naked, her soft, dain­tie white hands hee fastened behind her, with a cord about both wrists, in manner of a crosse, as testimony of her cruellest Martyrdome. When shee was thus miserably bound to his vnmercifull liking, with whipps hee was about to torment her: but Parselius with this sight was quickly put out of his admiration, hasting to reuenge her wrong, setting spurres to his horse, hee ran as swift as Lightning (and as dangerous this happned to the [Page 69] Knight) towards them, yet sending his voyce with more speede be­fore him, crying, vilde Traitor, hold thy hands and turne thy spight on mee, more fit to encounter stripes, hoping thus to saue her from some, which if but one, had beene too much for such delicacie to en­dure.

But hee (whose malice was such, as the neerer hee saw her succour, the more was his fury encreased) looking vp and seeing a braue knight accompany that voice, casting his hatefull looke againe on her, and throw­ing away the Whips, drew his Sword, saying, nor yet shall this newe Champion rescue thee; then ready to haue parted that sweet breath from that most sweet body, Parselius came, and struck downe the blow with his Sword, though not so directly, but that it a little rased her on the left side, which shee perceiuing, looking on it, and seeing how the bloud did trickle in some (though few) drops, Many more then these, said shee, haue I in­wardly shed for thee my deare Perissus; but that last word she spake softlier then the rest, either that the strange Knight should not heare her, or that she could not affoord that deere name to any, but her owne eares.

Shee being thus rescued, the Knight strake fiercely at Parselius, who met him with as much furious strength, giuing him his due in the curst­edst kind, and fullest measure, making such proofe of his valour (iustice being on his side, which best guides a good sword in a noble hand) as in short time hee laid him at his feete, pulling off his helme to cut off his head. But then the Ladie cride vnto him, beseeching him to stay that blow; the like did another Knight newly arriu'd, who vntide the Lady. Whereat Parselius was offended, thinking himselfe highly iniured, that any, except himselfe, should doe her that seruice, telling him, Hee much wondred at his boldnesse, which had made him offer that wrong vnto him. I did it (said the new Knight) but to giue her ease, and so to bring her, that wee both might acknowledge humble thankfulnesse for this braue and happy reliefe, which hath brought her blessed safety [...] Parselius hearing this curteous answere, was satisfied: then looking on the vanquish­ed Knight, hee demaunded, Why hee had vsed that cruelty to so perfect a Lady? As he was answering, the stranger Knight knew him, casting his eye vpon him, and without any word, would as soone haue depriued him of his life: but Parselius stayd him, blaming him for seeking the death of a man already dying. He confessing his fault, askt pardon; and pulling off his helme, told him, that there he stood ready to receiue punishment for twice so offen­ding him.

Parselius, though not knowing him, yet seeing his excellent personage, and princely countenance, imbraced him, telling him, That honour might gaine, nay challenge pardon for a greater fault, then was possible to bee com­mitted by such a braue Knight, he likewise taking off his helme. When Lime­na (who was this sad tormented Lady) saw her Perissus (for Perissus it was), the ioy she conceiu'd was iust such, as her loue could make her feele, seeing him her soule had onely loued; after so many cruell changes, and bitter passions in their crost affection. This being past, the wounded Knight be­gan thus.

First (said hee) let mee know by whose hand I haue receiued this wor­thie [Page 70] end, and indeed, too worthy for so worthlesse a Creature, who now, and but now, could discerne my rash, and wicked error: which now I most heartilie repent. Now are mine eyes open to the iniuries done to vertuous Limena, her chastity appeares before my dying sight, whereto before, my eyes were dimme, and eares deafe, seeing and hearing nothing, but base falshoods, being gouern'd by so strong and vndeserued Iealousie.

Next, I must aske pardon of you my Lord Perissus, deny not these Peti­tions, I humbly beseech you, both vnto a dying man, who in his life, did offer you too foule, and too vnpardonable an iniury. Perissus seeing his spee­dy end approaching, hauing the noblest and freest heart, forgaue him that offence, which proceeded from the same ground that his crosses came from, both taking roote from Loue, and yet Loue in that kinde chang'd nature with madnesse, when attended on with so much iealousie; then with a milde voice, he spake.

Philargus, said he, I am glad your punishment is accompanied with so happy and true repentance; I doe freely forgiue you, and thinke no more of that past, then if neuer done. But this I desire you will demand the like of your excellently vertuous wife, who hath beene the patient of all your fury. That I doe, said Philargus, and let my soule enioy no happinesse, if I wish not her as well as it. Then deare Limena, haue you pardon'd me? if not, O doe, and forgiue vnfortunate, and ill-deseruing Philargus My Lord, said she, I most sincerely and heartily forgiue you, and so I pray, doe you the like for me; my dearest then, said he, I happily, and thrise happily now shall welcome death. For your other demand, said the braue Prince, my name is Parselius, Prince of Morea: Philargus kissing his hand, gaue him thankes, and weeping for ioy said. Most fortunate end, how doe I embrace thee, comming so luckily, and brought thee by such royall hands? Then taking Perissus by the one hand, and Limena by the other, he said, I haue yet one request more to make, which granted, I shall dye with all content, and this is only in you two to consent to, they promised that then he should not be refused. These misfortunes, said he, which now are past, and I hope shall haue buriall in mee, haue neuerthelesse (it is most likely) left some false conceipt remaining in the hearts of some people: which to remedy and vtterly take a­way, desiring Limena's honor (which without questiō remains spotted) might flourish as deseruedly, as the clearenesse of it selfe is, without so much as the shadowe of a thought to the contrary. I beseech you, for your owne best fortunes, and my quiet departing, to promise mee that after my death you will marry each other. One more worthy (my Lord), more loy­all, more chaste, the world holds not; and this are you bound to doe for her, who for you hath been wrongd; and Limena deny not this to your dying husband, being the last he can euer aske you. He needed not vrge them much to what they most coueted, and purposed in their hearts before: yet to giue him full satisfaction (though on her side with bashfull and fearefull consen­ting) they yeelded to him. Then my Lord (said he) take her, and my hearts prayers with best wishes to you; and my best belou'd Limena, in witnesse of my loue to you, I bestow on you this most worthy Lord, far better befitting you, and my whole estate: with that, embracing them, kissing her; and lastly, lifting vp his eyes to heauen, he departed, they like true friends closing his [Page 71] eyes. Being now growne late, [...] that night they went into the Caue, which but lately had been the pri [...]on of sweet Limena: with them they ca­ryed the body, laying it in the further part of the hollownesse. Then did Parselius tell them how infinitly happy he esteemed himselfe [...] in hauing come so luckily to serue them, of whom, and whose vnfortunat affection hee had heard, hauing had it from the rare Shepherdesse. Name her he could not, his breath being stopp'd with sighes, and his teares falling down in all abun­dance, sent from his heart, which dropp'd like the weeping of a Vine, when men without pitty wound it. Perissus seeing his sorrow, made hast to ask the cause, fearing some great harme had befalne that Diuine Creature, of whom he gaue such praises, as Limena thought they were too much, which hee perceiuing left, with demanding of her safety, and why his greeuing was; which Parselius hauing passionatly, and truely related, he desired most ear­nestly, to heare the rest of Limena's story; which she thus began.

My Lords, after I sent the Letter, and the time expired, Philargus came for my answer, or to performe his vowe, which with desire I attended, al­though he contrary to my wishes prolonged it. When hee had what I re­solud to giue him for satisfaction, which was a direct deniall, being in these words: I know, as your wife, I am in your power to dispose of; then vse your authority, for so foule a staine will I neuer lay vpon my bloud as to be­tray the Prince: name you in truth I durst not, least at the last that might mooue my affections. Then did he command me to goe with him, (to my death I hoped) when he brought me into a great Wood, in the mid [...]t where­of he made a fire, the place being fit, and I thinke, sure had been vsed in for­mer time to offer sacrifice in to the Siluan Gods. Then hee made mee vn­dresse my selfe, which willinglie, and readily I did, preparing my selfe to be the poore offring, but the richest, that richnesse of faith in loue could of­fer. When I had put off all my apparell but one little Petticote, he opened my breast, and gaue me many wounds, the markes you may here yet dis­cerne, (letting the Mantle fall againe a little lower, to shew the cruell re­membrance of his crueltie) which although they were whole, yet made they newe hurts in the louing heart of Perissus, suffering more paine for them, then he had done for all those himselfe had receiued in his former aduen­tures; therfore softly putting the Man [...]le vp againe, and gently couering them, lest yet they might chance to smart, besought her to goe on, longing to haue an end of that tragicall historie, and to come againe [...]o their meeting, which was the onely balme could be applied vnto his bleeding heart. She ioyfull to see this passion, because it was for her, and sorry it was Perissus did sorrow, proceeded: And after these, threatning many more, and death it selfe, if yet I consented not. But seeing nothing could preuaile, hee tooke my clothes, and with them wip'd the bloud off from me, I expecting nothing but the la [...]t act, which I thought should haue been concluded with my burning; his mind chang'd from the first resolution, so as taking me by the haire, and dragging me into the Wood among the bushes (whose cursenesse seconded their ma­sters furie) tearing my skinne, and scratching my bare leggs, to a tree he there tied me: but not long [...] continued there, for he going a little from me, retur­ned with a Pastors coat, which he tooke from a poore man, that was in that Wood, seeking a lost Beast; with this he disguised me, and also hauing taken [Page 72] the mans Horse, tooke me behinde him, putting a gag in my mouth, for feare I should speake for helpe, posting vnused waies through the desart to the Sea­side, where he got a boate, and so passed ouer to this place, where euer since we haue remained; for my part, with daily whippings, and such other tor­tures, as pinching with irons, and many more so terrible, as for your sake (see­ing your griefe my deerest Lord) I wil omit, declaring only this I must speak of, belonging to my story. Once euery day hee brought mee to this pillar where you found me, and in the like manner bound me, then whipt me, after washing the stripes and blisters with salt water [...] but this had been the last (had not you thus happily arriu'd); for he determined as he said, after my tormen­ting had been past, in stead of washing me with the sea-water, to cast me into her, and so make a finall end of his tormenting, and of my torments. To this end he likewise went yesterday to the Towne, and bought this armour, ar­ming himselfe, to the intent, that after his purpose was accomplisht, he might take his iourney which way best he pleased. Thus my Lords haue you heard the afflicted life of poore Limena, in whom these tortures wrought no other­wise, then to strengthen her loue, and faith to withstand them: for could any other thought haue entred into my hart, that would haue been a greater af­fliction to my soule, then the curst stroakes were to my body, subiect only to his vnnaturalnesse, but now by your royall hand redeemed from misery, to enioy the only blessing my heart can, or euer could aspire to wish, and here haue you now your faithfull Loue Limena. Perissus embraced her with that loue, his best loue could expresse, and then speaking to the Morean Prince, he said: The thanks most braue Prince, for this happinesse belongs vnto you, which is so much, as my life shall euer bee ingaged to pay the due vnto you; and my sword imployed to the best of my power to serue you, vowing, that when I (and the same I professe for my deerest here) proue vngratefull, wee will no more see light: nay let vs be as wretched as euer we were, if that sinne know vs. Parselius with much affection requited their protestations, making the like for himselfe in his loue to them; so for that night they went to rest. The next day taking their iourney to Naples, to prouide such things as were necessary for them; thence went they into Sicily, hauing a braue ship, which the Gouernor of that Towne (knowing Parselius) prouided for them; going himselfe, and many more braue Gentlemen, to conduct them ouer: whither being come, they found the Country in great trouble, the King being dead, and an Vsurper in his stead: but quickly were those stirres appeased by the presence ef Perissus, well helped by the Company which came out of Naples with him; but most, and indeed chiefly compassed by the valour of Parselius, who with his owne hands (in a battell which was fought betweene the vsur­per, and an army that came to aide Perissus, as soone as his arriuall was pub­lished) kild the false king and his two sons, being counted the valiantest men of all Sicily, and in stature were little lesse then Giants. This being finished, Perissus was crowned King, and soone after was the last promise perfor­med in the marriage, which was solemnely, and with great state accom­plished.

Then did Parselius take his leaue of the King and Queene, returning to Naples, and so to the Court of that King, where with all ioy and wel­come hee was receiued, the triumphs and feastes making testimonie of it; [Page 73] Yet was his sorrow such for Vrania, as all those sports were rather trouble­some, then pleasing vnto him.

Some few daies after the triumphes began, the Squire of Amphilanthus found him there, to whom he deliuer'd his Message; with much ioy did the old King receiue the Squire, bringing him such ioyfull newes of his Sonnes being well, though much more welcome had he beene, if he could haue told any thing of his returne thither. Parselius demanded of the Squire how hee found him out; Why Sir, said hee, My Master going away from Morea, with Antissius, and that company, sent mee by Sea, to seeke you in this Countrey, by chance our Shipp sprung a leake, so as we were forced to put in againe to mend her: after we had beene a day at Sea, before she was throughly mended, came a braue Gentleman, called Ollorandus, younger Sonne to the King of Bohemia, who seeking my Lord, to whom he hath vow'd his Loue, and seruice, knowing mee to bee his ser­uant enquired of me for him; I told him, where at that time he might find him. Hauing done this I tooke the boldnesse to aske him, if hee heard any newes of you, and withall the cause why I asked; he answered me that ha­uing past Italie, in search of Amphilanthus, and hearing he was cast vpon Morea by Shipwrack, hee followed after him till hee came to the Court, which at that time was in Arcadia, there hee heard that he had beene there, but was againe gone into Italy to seeke you, and that hee would with you soone returne againe into that Countrey, to goe into Albania; wherfore he desiring to see something in those parts passed vp and downe, sometime to Morea, where in Elis he met with you, hauing (as hee merrily tolde me) passed a pretty aduenture, with a Lady and her Knights. From thence hee came to that part of the Kingdome, where I was put in by that chaunce, meaning there to ship once more for Italy: but I telling him of my ma­sters iourney to Romania, he with all speed followed him, there to deserue his friendship by his seruice, and thus came I to be so fortunate to meet you. Then did Parselius acquaint the King with his entent, which was to follow Amphilanthus; so taking his leaue, he went with as much fortunate speede as might be to o [...]ertake his friend, promising the old King, to hasten his Sonnes comming, withall, letting him know the hope he had of Vrania's be­ing his Daughter; which hope was as comfortable to him, almost, as if hee had already enioyd her.

Parselius in his iourney trauelled with great paine of mind, the like sufferd Pamphilia, who all this while continued her Loue, and life in Morea, who by loues force was, it seemed, transform'd into the same passion; her loue­sicke Companion still accompanying her, till one morning, her deare (though vnquiet) affections calling her to attend them, made her see day sooner, then otherwise she had by many houres, and seeing it to make vse of her light: for though the sight which she desired, was hid from her, she might yet by the light of her imaginations (as in a picture) behold, and make those lights serue in his absence. Euen as the morning seemes for cleerenes, fairenes, and sweetnesse: so did she rising, that daintinesse wayting on her, that the greatest light could say, he excelled her, onely in heat, but not in brightnesse; and in some kind, he gain'd at that time aduantage on her, whom absence held in cold despaire. Quickly was she ready, and as soone left her [Page 74] Chamber, going into the Gardens, passing out of one into another, finding that all places are alike to Loue, tedious. Then opened she a doore into a fine wood, delicately contriu'd into strange, and delightfull walkes; for al­though they were fram'd by Art, neuerthelesse they were so curiously coun­terfeited, as they appeard naturall. These pleased her onely to passe thorow into a little Groue, or rather, a pretty tuft of Ashes, being inuironed with such vnusuall variety of excellent pleasures, as had she had a heart to receiue delight from any thing but Loue, shee might haue taken pleasure in that place: for there was a purling, murmuring, sad Brooke, weeping away her sorrowes, desiring the bankes to ease her, euen with teares; but cruell, they would not so much as stay them to comfort, but let them slip away with as little care, as great ones doe the humble Petitions of poore suitors. Here was a fine groue of Bushes, their roots made rich with the sweetest flowres for smell, and colour. There a Plaine, here a Wood, fine hills to be­hold, as placed, that her sight need not, for natural content, stray further then due bounds. At thei [...] bottomes delicate Valleyes, adorn'd with seuerall de­lightfull obiects. But what were all these to a louing heart? Alas, meer [...]ly occasions to increase sorrow, Loue being so cruell, as to turne pleasures in this nature, to the contrary course, making the knowledge of their delights, but serue to set forth the perfecter mourning, tryumphing in such glory, where his power rules, not onely ouer mindes, but on the best of mindes: and this felt the perplexed Pamphilia, who with a Booke in her hand, not that shee troubled it with reading, but for a colour of her solitarinesse, shee walked beholding these pleasures, till griefe brought this Issue. See­ing this place delicate without, as shee was faire, and darke within as her sorrowes, shee went into the thickest part of it, being such, as if Phoe­bus durst not there shew his face, for feare of offending the sadd Prin­cesse; but a little glimmeringly, as desirous to see, and fearing to bee seene, stole heere, and there a little sight of that all-deseruing Lady, whose beames sometimes ambitiously touching her, did seeme as if he shin'd on purest gold, whose brightnesse did striue with him, and so did her excellen­cie encounter his raies: The tops of the trees ioyning so close, as if in loue with each other, could not but affectionatly embrace. The ground in this place, where shee stayed was plaine, couered with greene grasse, which being low and thicke, looked as if of purpose it had beene couered with a greene Veluet Carpet, to entertaine this melancholy Lady, for her the softer to tread, loth to hurt her feet, lest that might make her leaue it; this care prou'd so happy, as heere shee tooke what delight it was pos­sible for her to take in such kinde of pleasures: walking vp and downe a pretty space, blaming her fortune, but more accusing her loue, who had the heart to grieue her, while shee might more iustly haue chid her selfe, whose feare had forc'd her to too curious a secrecie: Cupid, in her, onely seeking to conquer, but not respecting his victory so farre, as to allow so much fauour, as to helpe the vanquished, or rather his power being onely able to extend to her yeelding, but not to master her spirit. Oft would shee blame his cruelty, but that againe shee would salue with his being ignorant of her paine: then iustly accuse her selfe, who in so long time, and many yeares could not make him discerne her affections, [Page 75] (though not by words plainely spoken;) but soone was that thought recalled, and blamed with the greatest condemnation, acknowledging her losse in this kinde to proceed from vertue. Then shee considered, hee lou'd another, this put her beyond all patience, wishing her sudden end, cursing her dayes, fortune, and affection, which cast her vpon this rocke of mischiefe. Oft would shee wish her dead, or her beauty mari'd, but that she recall'd againe; louing so much, as yet in pitty shee would not wish what might trouble him, but rather continued according to her owne wish; complaining, fearing, and louing the most distressed, secret, and constant Louer that euer Venus, or her blind Sonne bestowed a wound or dart vpon.

In this estate shee stayed a while in the wood, gathering sometimes flowres which there grew; the names of which began with the letters of his name, and so placing them about her. Well Pamphilia, said she, for all these dis­orderly passions, keepe still thy soule from thought of change, and if thou blame any thing, let it be absence, since his presence will giue thee againe thy fill of delight. And yet what torment will that proue, when I shall with him see his hopes, his ioyes, and content come from another? O Loue, O froward fortune, which of you two should I most curse? You are both cruell to me, but both alas are blinde, and therefore let me rather hate my selfe for this vnquietnesse; and yet vniustly shall I doe too in that, since how can I condemne my heart, for hauing vertu­ously and worthily chosen? Which very choice shall satisfie mee with as much comfort, as I felt despaire. And now poore grasse, said shee, thou shalt suffer for my paine, my loue-smarting body thus pressing thee.

Then laid shee her excelling selfe vpon that (then most blessed ground) and in compassion giue mee some rest, said shee, on you, which well you may doe being honor'd with the weight of the loyallest, but most afflicted Princesse that euer this Kingdome knew: Ioy in this and flourish still, in hope to beare this vertuous affliction. O Morea, a place accoun­ted full of Loue, why is Loue in thee thus terribly oppressed, and cru­elly rewarded? Am I the first vnfortunate Woman that bashfulnesse hath vndone? If so, I suffer for a vertue, yet gentle pitty were a sweeter lot. Sweet Land, and thou more sweet Loue, pardon me, heare me, and commiserate my woe, Then hastily rising from her low greene bed; nay, said shee, since I finde no redresse, I will make others in part taste my paine, and make them dumbe partakers of my griefe; then taking a knife, shee finished a Sonnet, which at other times shee had begunne to ingraue in the barke of one of those fayre and straight Ashes, cau­sing that sapp to accompany her teares for loue, that for vnkindnesse.

And on the rootes, whereon she had laid her head, seruing (though hard) for a pillow at that time, to vphold the richest World of wisdome in her sex, she writ this.

Hauing ended it, againe laying her sad perfections on the grasse, to see if then some rest would haue fauourd her, and haue thought trauel had enough disturbed her, she presently found, passion had not yet allowed time for her quiet, wherefore rising, and giuing as kind a farwell-looke to the tree, as one would doe to a trusty friend, she went to the brooke, vpon the banke where­of were some fine shadie trees, and choice thorne bushes, which might as they were mixt, obtaine the name of a prety Groue, whereinto she went, and sitting downe vnder a Willow, there anew began her complaints; pulling off those branches, sometimes putting them on her head: but remembring her selfe, she quickly threw them off, vowing how euer her chance was, not to carry the tokens of her losse openly on her browes, but rather weare them priuately in her heart. Further would she haue proceeded, but that she heard behind her a rushing in the bushes. Looking backe, shee perceiu'd Antissia close by her; who hauing noted the sadnesse in the Princesse, and her solita­ry retirednesse, imagined (by her owne passions) the cause must needs bee loue: but that imagination growing to beliefe, beliefe brought feare, feare doubt, and doubt the restlesse affliction, suspition; her excellencies making the assurednes of her no lesse excellent choice, so as the more perfect she con­fest them both to be, the more did those perfections make her perfectly iea­lous. This was the reason that shee came thus forth, and in as priuate sort as she could, that so she might by chance ouer-heare her secret complaints, and so (though for a certaine vexation) bee sure of her most troubled know­ledge.

But herein she was deceiued: for although she heard much of her sorow, yet got she no assurance for whom the sorrow was, neuer in all her extremest suf­ferings, once naming the mouer of her paine, which kept her loue in as much secresie, as that, secretly after brought tormenting paine, proceeding from vn­happy [Page 67] ignorance. But Pamphilia perceiuing her, smiling, yet blushing, doub­ting her passions were discouered, and her loue betray'd to her Companion; she neuerthelesse to make the best of it; How came you hither faire Antissia (said she)? I did not thinke this sad place, could haue inuited so much hap­pinesse to it, as your presence; who being happy, must make all places par­take with you?

This place (said shee) hath her blessing already in you, the saddest being forc'd to deserued ioy, enioying so good fortune, as to haue Pamphilia in it. But I pray, if I may be so bold to aske such a question of you (which the con­fidence of a friend makes me venture vpon) why are all these grieuous com­plaints? for neuer heard I greater, neither was sorrow euer richlier appar­reld, then lately you haue drest her: If it be for loue; tell me who that blessed creature is, that doth possesse such a world of treasure as your heart? and de­ny not this to your friend, and seruant, who will faithfully serue you in that, or any other you will impose vpon her, though sure in this little paine, will serue to win your ease, if you will suffer your selfe to haue ease; no man breathing that will bee so void of iudgement, or can haue power to re­sist, what you in loue might demaund, but must bee so farre from deny­ing, as hee will without question venture his life, to gaine so pretious a prize.

Your owne worth (said Pamphili [...]) makes you thus confident, and your happie fortune, in meeting an an [...]erable affection, thus feareles: but alas for me, I that know worth (greatnes, nor the truest loue can bring ones desire, if destinie haue otherwise appointed) can neuer let so much flattring hope blind me with conceit of mine owne deserts (which it may be are seene but by my owne eyes), as to imagine their merits may gaine my ends. No sweet Antissia, loue is onely to be gaind by loue equally bestowed, the giuer, and re­ceiuer reciprocally liberall, else it is no loue; nor can this be, but where affe­ctions meete; and that we must not all expect, nor can it reasonably bee de­manded. Since how should the power of loue be knowne, but by his seuerall vsage of his subiects? If all were vs'd alike, his iustice must be examined [...] but be it as it will, some must and do suffer; yet speake I not this of my self, or in con­fession that I am pinch'd with these tortures, for Lord knowes, how farre am I from these like vanities, then how can I satisfie your louing demand, and friendly promise? You cannot thus dissemble (replied Antissia), your owne hand in yonder faire Ash will witnes against you. Not so (said Pamphilia) for many Poets write aswell by imitation, as by sence of passion; therefore this is no proofe against me. It is well said (answerd Antissia) in your owne defence: but I pray, why did you but euen now with sighes and teares (as I iudged by your voyce) blame both loue, and absence? Many reasons there are to accuse both (said Pamphilia): but let mee bee so much bound to you, as to know the reason of your inquisitiuenes? If it were only for my good, mee thinks you grow too neere me; bare friendship not being able so cunningly to sift one, therefore it makes me thinke some other cause moues this care in you; if so, freely speake it, and I will as freely satisfie you. Well (said Antissia) then confesse you loue, and I will soone follow with the other. It were to small purpose (replide Pamphilia) to deny it, since you haue discouered mee; I confesse it, and am no whit ashamed of it, though grieued by it. My [Page 78] curiositie (said the other) was, and is, lest it should bee hee whom I affect.

Alas (cride Pamphilia), can so base an humour as suspition creepe into so braue a heart as Antissia's? and to gaine such power there, as to make her mistrust her friend? Truly I am sorry for it; and would aduise you for ho­nours sake, quickly to banish that Deuill from you, which otherwise will dai­ly increase new mischiefes. I know (said Antissia) it is the worst of Mon­sters: yet this is no answere to my question.

Tis true (said Pamphilia): but [...] being innocent of it, forgot first to cleere it. But I pray Antissia, what doe you see in mee, that I should loue Amphilanthus more, then respectiuely?

This (said she) that all perfections hauing ioynd, and vnited their strengths to make you wholly excellent, it cannot bee, but you in all things must ma­nifest it, and in iudgement are you not cald to expresse it? And if in iudge­ment, wherein can there be more discern'd, then in the choice of friend or Loue? If so, can you chuse other, then the most deseruing? and then, must it not bee the most excellent of men? and is not Amphilanthus that most excelling Prince?

In truth (answered Pamphilia) I confesse this latter part to be true: for as­suredly there liues not his equall for all vertues, which well might make me (if I were such a one as you say) to haue that ambition in mee, to affect the worthiest; but so much perfection I wa [...], as that part hath faild also in me: yet this I will say, I loue him as hee merits, long conuersation as from our youthes; besides, our bloud claiming an extraordinary respect.

You will not deny you are in loue with him then? Why should I not (said shee)? I'm sure I know my owne heart best: and truly so farre is it from suffring in this passion, as it grieues mee you mistake mee so much. but Lord what strange and dangerous thoughts doth this bring into our brests? Could any but a Louer haue so troublesome a conceite? Why sweet Antissia when did this opinion first possesse you? or what gaue you occasion to con­ceiue it? Hath my speech at any time betray'd mee? Hath my fashion giuen you cause to suspect it? Did I euer enuiously like a Louer, seeke to hinder your enioying him? Did I vnmannerly presse into your com­panies? Some of this surely I must haue done, or you vniustly accuse me.

None of these could you faile in (cride shee); so great a wit, and match­lesse a spirit would gouerne themselues better, then to offend in such fond parts: but the reason I haue already giuen, being equall excellencies; and the beliefe proceeds from this, that mee thought you did with as feeling an affection accompany my sorrow when he went away, and more neerely I imagined by your fashion it toucht you, then pity of my griefe could haue procured. Then I considered my eyes had been so fortunate, as to looke vp­on the best, why then should not the best of our sex also looke on the rarest obiect; and looking so, must not the same conclusion be, that beholding as I did, loue must come in and conquer; as on me, so then looking with my eyes, of force you must loue him.

What a progr [...]sse (said Pamphilia) hath your troubled imagination made to find a poore cause, to forge a poorer vexation? If all these things were true, [Page 79] and that I lou'd Amphilanthus, what then? were it any more then my extremest torment, when I should see his affections otherwise placed? the impossibility of winning him from a worthy loue, the vnblessed destiny of my poore vnblessed life, to fa [...]l into such a misery; the continuall aff [...]ictions of b [...]rning loue, the fier of iust rage against my owne eies, the hatred of my brest for letting in so destroying a guest, that ruines where he comes; these were all, and these alone touching me in all disquiets. Wha [...] need should they haue to molest you, since so perfectly you are assur'd of his loue, as you need feare no occasion, nor any body to wrong you in that, wherein he will not wrong his worthy choice and constancy? What harme then could it be to you, if you should loue him? The losse of my content; since that your loue (said Antissia) must not be refus'd, but sought; and if obtaind, wo be to any other that aspires to that place; better neuer to be borne, then know the birth of so much folly, as to aduenture to be a riuall with the rarest Princesse Pamphilia; therefore knowing this harme, I had rather you did not loue him. Well, then be satisfied (said the sweet, but sad Pamphilia), my loue to him proc [...]eds from his neuer enough praised merits, but not for loue otherwise, then I haue al­ready exprest.

A [...]tissia was with this answer thorowly satisfied, taking the Princesse in her armes, protesting her life too little, to pay for requitall for this royall free­dome she had found in her, and the [...] fauour receiued from her; expressing then her loue in the best manner she could, plainely making confession of all to her; concluding, that had not her incomparable vertue bound her best re­spects to her, yet the resemblance which shee had in her face of that famous Prince, and her onely beloued, would haue forced her to loue her. The deli­cate Lady told her, shee could not better please her, then in telling her she did resemble him, since then she was sure she was like to true vertue; for he was of that the onely body: but this loue, and his dependances doe so vex vs, as they take away all other societie; to amend which, let vs returne to the Court (said she). I am contented, said Antissia. So rising, and holding each other by the arme, with as much loue, as loue in them could [...]oyne, they tooke their way backe towards the Palace; but in the great Garden they met the King and Queene; so they attended backe on them into the Hall, whither they were no sooner come, and setled in their places, but they were entertained with this aduenture: Tenne Knights comming in russet Armours, their Bea [...]ers vp, their Swords in their hands; who comming more then halfe way to the State, making low reuerence, stood still, parting themselues to either side of the Cham­ber, to let the followers better be discerned. Then came tenne more, but in blacke Armours, chain'd together, without Helmets or Swords. After them came sixe armed like the first, three carrying Speares of in­finite bignesse; one, the Sheild, and the other two the Sword and Hel­met of a Knight, who for countenance seem'd no louer; his colour like a Moore; his fashion rude and proud, following after these sixe, who, as the first, diuided themselues.

Then came this man to the State, leading by the hand as sweete a Ladie, as hee was vgly; shee as milde in countenance, as hee insolent; shee as fearefull, as hee bold: on the other hand of her, another Knig [...] sad, [Page 80] but it seem'd amorous. The King and all the Court beholding, and expect­ing the issue of this busines, when the stout man in a hollow and hoarse voice deliuered these words.

King of Morea, I am Lansaritano, whose fame I doubt not, hath spread it selfe to your eares: Lord I am of the Ilands of Cerigo, Dragonero, and other lesser circkling my chiefe Iland, as subiects to my greatnes. This Lady you see here, is my vassall by birth, but by my choice honour'd with my loue, which she foolishly refuseth, iudgement so farre failing her, as not to be able to discerne the happinesse, and vnspeakable good, blind Fortune hath giuen her, in letting my high & noble thoughts abase themselues so low, as to looke on her my creature, and fauour her with my liking. She whom I might com­mand, I haue bin contented to woe; she who shuld obay, ignorantly refuseth: yet [...] (Master of worth) will not force her, but haue compell'd my selfe to consent to satisfie a fond request she hath made to me, which is, to come into this Court with her, and this knight my Cosen whom she loues, and is the barre from my enioying her: and here if she can find a Knight, who for her sake will enter into this quarrel (which she calls, The de [...]ence of true Loue) he must obserue this, to giue her to one of vs, and fight with the other: if it happen he chuse him (as well it may be he wil defend Ladies, he will dispose of her to her beloued), he must combate me: if he ouercome, shee shall bee free; else yeelded to me: which I make no question of, since I neuer yet knew any had the fortune, how stout, valiant, or hardy, could hold out with me. These bound men are Knights, and her Brothers two of them, the rest her friends and kindred, who vpon her vaine complaint, fearing violence would haue been by me iustly vs'd vpon her, made an insurrection, which soone I appeased, and for the loue of her would not yet put them to death, but haue brought them with mee likewise on this condition; that when I haue fought and vanquisht that bold and fond man whosoeuer, that will ad­uenture to combate with me, I shall strike off all their heads. This Sir is the cause of my comming, wherefore I desire leaue of you that shee may haue one, if any Knight will vndertake it, or dare maintaine her cause, which shee accounts so faire and good.

The King was sorry for the Ladies sake, his Court was so vnprouided of those braue Knights which were wont to honour it, especially that his fa­mous Nephew, and braue Sonnes were all absent, who he knew would de­fend a Ladies cause, especially a louing Lady, as she seem'd; wherefore hee made this answere. Lansaritano, I am troubled, so braue a man should fight in so ill a matter, since if I were as you, shee that would not by my worth bee wonne, should not be thought worthy to be gaind by the hazard of my self, into which you must run, if you encounter Knights of my Court; for sure­ly no braue man will giue her from her owne affection: but now indeede is your fortune good, in comming when the Worthies of our parts are absent; yet doubt I not but I haue still some here, who honour Ladies so much, as they will venter to deliuer them from force in loue; therfore I giue yo [...] free liberty to pronounce your challenge.

I am sorry (said he) that all your Worthies be not here, that I might for my glory ouercome them one after another; but since they are absent, any one here take her part that will, or giue her to mee, if none will aduenture [Page 81] combate, otherwise I am ready to meete him with the Launce three cour­ses, and then end the Combat with the sword; if no one dare vndertake it [...] you must sweete Lady bee mine for want of a knight for your Champion [...] Shee lookt sadly, and wept so loue-likely, as all pittied her, but none offe­red their seruice, the valour being knowne, and the strength much feared of La [...]saritano; till Selarinus disdaining such a man should haue, though so little, a cause to adde more fuell to the fire of his pride, stept forth and said: Most mighty King, may it please you to honour mee so much, as to permit mee the libertie of this aduenture, wherein I doubt not, but to doe iust­ly, and to lay Lansaritano's pride as low, as the ea [...]h will suffer his body to lie vpon it.

The king glad to see the fine young Prince so forward, but loth to ven­ture him in so dangerous a businesse, told him, That the true noblenesse and bounty of the kings of Albania his Predecessours did againe liue in him, to maintaine which, hee was very willing to grant his request, but his tender yeares made him loth to aduenture him alone. Then Sir (said hee) should I both shame my selfe, and the braue Princes before by you mentioned: but as I am alone left here of my bloud, I will alone aduen­ture. Then hee asked the Lady if shee would accept him, and stand to his censure? Shee answered; Most willingly shee would. Hee then gaue her to her beloued, saying; Prepare your selfe, and know Lansaritano, that you shall finde enough to doe, when you encounter Iustice and reso­lution, which are the two I take with mee in this Combate against you.

The furie of the vaine man was such, to see so young a man answer him, as hee could scarce giue one word againe; but at last his breath smoked out these words. Alas, poore Boy, I pitie thee; wherefore pray thee be ad­uised, and hereafter when thou hast a Beard come, and it may be I will grace thee, with fighting with thee; vnlesse thou dost hope I should haue some pi­ty on thy faire face, and so forbeare to hurt thee in the fight. [...] [...]ince you haue no brauer Knights, Great King of Morea, farewell, I will returne: and now faire Lady, what thinke you of your seruant my selfe? will you loue me, or let this smug Youth be your Champion?

The king was infinitely offended with the proud speech of Lansaritano, the like was all the company; yet none aduentured to answer but braue Selarinus himselfe, who againe couragiouslie, yet mildlie told him; That hee neede not learne, to know words were not the weapons to bee vsed in fight, therefore hee would answere him no further in that kinde, but hee should giue him satisfaction with his Sword and Speare for the Ladies sake, before his parting thence, whether hee would, or no; and then haue occasion to speake better of him, if hee left him to speake at all.

The King embraced the young Prince, and straight sending for an Armour, which was the first that euer Amphilanthus had worne, ha­uing left it there, taking another which was brought him from Italy, after his first Victorie of fame, which was there performed against two Knights, in the defence of an iniured Ladie; this hee put on, which was all White, saue iust against the Heart hee had the [Page 82] figure of a heart wounded curiously made, and so artificially, as one would haue thought his heart had been seene to bleed through the Armour: with these Armes Selarinus was arm'd, the King girting the sword to him, and kis­sing him, wisht as good fortune to him, as the first Lord of those Armes had, and to prooue as worthy to weare them. Hee on his knee humbly gaue him thankes; then turning to the Lady, will'd her to take her loued Seruant, if shee accepted him for her Knight. Shee ioyfully beholding him, and smi­ling on her loue, who equally exprest his ioy, followed him, who now appea­red a young Mars; yet was her ioy mixt with feare, of falling againe into his hands; till which time shee, and this she told him, esteem'd her selfe the [...]ap­piest woman breathing, in such a Defendant.

Then went they into the Lists, the King and all the Court taking places fit to behold the fight, Lansaritano cursing his destinie that brought him the dis­honour to meete a childe (as he tearm'd him, though after hee proued o­therwise vnto him) in the field. Lansaritano was conducted into the field by his owne knights in the same manner, as they enter'd the hall. The Lady who was cald Nallinia, and her late distressed, but now reuiued associats were plac'd in a seate by themselues, to see, and to bee seene as the prizes of the combate.

Then came Selarinus into the field, attended on by the Marshall, Master of the Horse, and the chiefe officers of the kingdome of Morea, the Mar­shall being a graue old man, but in his youth one of the best knights of that Countrie, gaue him his first Speare. The King of Pamphilia (bro­ther to the King, who was newly come thither to visit him, but princi­pally his Neece, who by his gift was to enioy that kingdome after his decease, and therefore bore that name likewise giuen by him) was one of the Iudges, the Prince of Elis the other for Selarinus; and these two did Lansaritano accept also for him, doubting no wrong in so iust a kings Court.

They [...]uely encountred, running the two first courses without any aduantage; the third, Selarinus receiued so strong a Counter-buffe on his breast, as beate him backe vpon his saddle, being a pretie while be­fore hee recouered againe: but Lansaritano hauing more strength, but as great a blow, shewed no mouing in himselfe, though the blow was so forcible, as the girts brake, and hee came ouer his horse, by the slip­ping o [...] his saddle. Selarinus looking back, saw him on foote, which com­forted him much, fearing that hee had, till then, receiued the worst: but being satisfied, with new courage hee leapt from his Horse, scorning any aduantage, and drawing his sword, went towards his enemy, who met him pufft vp with as much furie, as a ship runs vpon a rock withall, and alike did he prosper.

A long time did this combat endure, Lansaritano so brauely and vali­antly behauing himselfe (as how could he doe other, fighting before his La­dy, to win his Lady, as it won vnexpected fame to the braue Albanian, who still continued with the better: for though Lansaritano as valiant as most, and as strong as any, yet had his enemy this aduantage ouer him, that in valour hee equal'd him; and what in strength hee faild of, in nim­blenesse and cunning hee exceld him, which brought him the victory with [Page 83] the others death, being giuen by a thrust in the face, his Beauer by chance flying vp, the pin being cut in the last blow before. Then were the Knights and the Lady set at libertie by the brother of Lansaritano, who was one of those, and the same that carried his Helmet. He now being to succeede his brother in his commands, tooke his leaue of the King and the Court. The Lady had euer affected this Knight, and was married before her parting to him, giuen in marriage by the Brother, who was called Sarimatto; they re­turnd, and shee liued after with much content with her husband, who was no way like his Cosin, though big, and strong, and as valiant, but milde, curteous, and honest; prouing a true friend and seruant to the Court of Morea.

With infinite ioy the Prince was conducted to the Palace, there entertaind by the King and Ladies, who all ioynd in honoring him, who had so much honourd the sex, letting his first aduenture bee in the defence of a woman; then carried him to his chamber, where his wounds were drest, which were many, but none dangerous; yet had the losse of much bloud made him fain­ter then hee was. This was his first aduentrous tryall of Armes, and accor­dingly did he proceede brauely and happily.

But now to Leandrus, who was left in his way to Achaia, to get forces to assist the Princes. Long he rid not without an aduenture, those places affor­ding many, and pleasant ones, yet was his scarce one of that number: for after he had left the court, he took his directest way to that part, which was neerest for him to passe thence into Achaia; as he went thinking of his friends, but most of his loue, his heart hauing receiu'd a cureles wound by the neuer fay­ling commanding eyes of Pamphilia, sometimes purposing to ask her in mar­riage, another time hoping first by his desert to win her loue, then promising himselfe the furtherance of Parselius, the labour of Rosindy, the fauour of Am­philanthus, the earnestnesse of his owne affection, and louer-like importunity; these hee resolu'd should woe for him, and thus hee meant to haue her: yet wanted hee her consent, the better part of the gaining, and the harder to bee gaind: yet these conceits pleased him, as mad folks delight in their owne odde thoughts: and so was this little lesse then madnesse, had hee had sense to haue considered her worthie selfe not to bee giuen, but to her owne wor­thie choice, and by it. But thus hee satisfied himselfe, till wanting this hap­pinesse of selfe-fram'd delight also, hee fell into such despaire, as proued farre worse then many hells vnto him.

As hee past (yet in his pleasure) along a way, which diuided it selfe (neere a delicate fountaine) into three parts, hee sat downe on the side of that Fountaine, drinking first of the Spring, and then taking out a paper wherein hee had written some sad verses, hee read them to himselfe; they were these.

When hee had read them, and was putting them vp againe, hauing first kist them, because they should goe to his Mistris, hee heard the wayling of a man, and looking vp, saw a Knight (as hee seem'd to bee) lie by the side of the Fountaine on the other part from him, and besides, heard him vse these speeches. I wonder when time will permit mee ease, and sorrow giue conclusion to my dayes, or to it selfe; if not wearied, yet for pities sake, tormenting mee, the most afflicted soule breathing; miserable Clarimatto, accursed aboue all men, and abus'd beyond all men, and more dishonour'd then any creature, and by whom, but by the most esteemed creature, a wo­man, and a faire woman; but the cage of a foule mind, and the keeper of a corrupt soule, and a false heart, else would she not, nor could she haue giuen herselfe (once mine) to any other. She was mine by vow, by solemne pro­session, but now an others: fickle sex, vnsteady creatures, worse I will not call you, because indeed I loue her, though abus'd by her, and sham'd in her. Le­andrus went to him, and kindly offerd his seruice, if he needed it. Hee casting vp his weeping eyes, in teares thankt him, but said; One man was enough to suffer in so slight a cause, and so vndeseruing a creature. He desired to know the matter. He answerd, he had lou'd a Lady, she had done the like to him, or made him thinke so: but hauing what shee would, she had changed, and not only so, but giuen her selfe to his enemy, being first betrothed vnto him, and in that time he was prouiding for the marriage, married the other; and this is the cause of my torment; hither I am come to reuenge my selfe of him, and in him of her, if shee loue him still. They are in a strong Castle of his, where they merrily liue, while I am miserably vexed with tortures, and dishonour, the worst of torments. What was the originall cause of his ma­lice?

Truly Sir, this cruelty hee vseth but to mee, as belonging to my destiny. Neglected I haue been of my friends for bearing this disgrace from mine e­nemy, and the hater of all my Countrie, the reason of his hatred to vs pro­ceeding from this. The King of Morea in his youth was a braue man at Armes, and followed, and finished many aduentures, by chance at a great [Page 85] Iust held in Achaia for ioy of the birth of the Kings son, cald Leandrus, as af­ter I heard he was, and proou'd a Prince worthily deseruing the ioy, then shewed for receiuing of him. This Lords father was likewise there, and en­countring the King was by him throwne to the ground, which disgrace hee took so heauily, as he would haue reuenged it with his sword, but that being forbidden (the end of those triumphes, reaching no further then sport) discontented, and burning in rage, hee went thence, watching when the King returnd in his iourney, in this very place he set vpon him troopes of his comming all these seuerall waies, and at once charging him, who onely for his pleasure had sent his greatest company before him, following with two Knights and their Squires; but in this conflict the King got so much of the victorie, as hee slew his Enemie with his owne hands, but could not keepe himselfe from being taken prisoner, and carried al­most to the Castle; whither if hee had gone, without doubt hee had thence neuer returnd.

But the Squires seeing his distresse, and the death of the other two, their Masters, ran euerie one a seuerall way, till they got a good number of the traine together, who with all speed, and fury pursued them, ouer­taking them hard by the Castle, and taking their Lord from them, most being kill'd, some few got into the hold, where relating their vnlucky ad­uenture, the wife of the slaine Lord, and Mother to this Lord (hauing as great a spirit as any woman breathing) made a vow to bee reuenged of all the Court of Morea, of the King and his posterity especially. And this she hath hitherto performed with great cruelty, her sonne hauing beene nursed in this hatred doth likewise continue it with more violence, as his spirit is so much greater, as commonly a mans is, in respect of a wo­mans: and this is the cause why hee hateth all the Moreans, of which coun­trey I am, borne in Corinth, my heart truely scorning him for his other in­iury done mee, am inuited hither for these two reasons, to bee reuenged on him.

Leandrus thank'd him for his discourse, but told him hee had by it made him long, to try if hee could bee made a Prisoner also for so iust a cause, or deliuer those so vniustly inclosed, and the rather said hee to serue one so much iniuried as your selfe, whose quarrell lay on mee, and doe you defend the honor of your King and Country, shee not being worth fighting for.

Hee answered that was true, yet his honor hee esteemd worth cleering, and that calld vpon him.

While they were thus discoursing, the Lord and the false Lady came lo­uingly hand in hand together downe one of the paths, shee smiling in his eyes and want only courting him, seeking to giue him occasion of mirth, but hee went on like a man to whom ill was succeeding, hee had some seruants with him arm'd, and his owne armour was likewise carried by him, if hee should haue any occasion suddenly to vse it: hee was of a cleere and pleasing complexion, a person amiable and lou [...]ly, curld hayre, fayre eyes, and so iudiciall a countenance, as might haue made the worthiest woman like him, and so well hee deseru'd as it was pitty hee fell into her hands, who vndid both his minde, and bodie, making him as wicked as [Page 86] her selfe which was the worst of her sex. He looked vpon her with loue; but his speech was sparing, either that naturally he had not store of words, or his inward heauinesse at that time made him silent. When he came neere the fountaine, Clarimatto approched to him; My Lord, said he, I am sure you know the cause of my comming into these parts, if not, examine your heart, and that will tell you the iniuries you haue don [...] me, or if that be so impure, or partiall, as it will not, for offending, bee true to so false a ma­ster, behold this creature by you, your shame, and mine, and in her fore­head the faire field of our disgrace, you shall see it written in spots of in­famy and wrong.

The Lord knew his face, and with it the offence, therefore answered him thus. Sir, said he, if on these conditions, I acknowledge the vnder­standing of your rage, I should make my selfe guilty of what I am free from; to my knowledge I neuer wronged any, if vnwillingly, I made a­mends, and am ready so to doe. Can you giue mee my honour againe, throwne to the ground by you, and your in [...]atiable Loue, cride he? You wrong vs both, said he, and this shall be the Ground of my reuenge and an­swer to you; with that he arm'd himselfe, shee crying to him, not to ad­uenture his deare selfe against that stranger, whom she knew full well; shee kneeled to him, held him by the leggs, kissed them, gazed on him, in termes call'd him dearest. All would not serue, he encountred his enemy, and truly was he iustly made so by his owne ill deseruing. They fought, like two, one hauing got, and earnest to keepe a Mistris, the other hauing lost, and reuengfull to gaine his honour, and kill his Riuall, and Vndoer in his Loue; at last, the true cause got the vpper hand, and the Lord came to the lower side of Victory; which the seruants perceiuing, rushed all vpon Clarimatto. Leandrus finding the wrong they offer'd, and the other was like to suffer, stepp'd in to his rescue. A fight was among these performed fit, and onely the prize of Loue fit to be the end of it. Clarimatto nimble, valiant, and hauing Iustice on his side, fought accordingly, and so as the Lord hauing lost much bloud out of two wounds giuen him by his foe, nor had he escaped free, but was hurt in some places, the Lord then gaue back a little, his men cirkling Clarimatto about like busie Bees when anger'd, vsing their best (or better to say, more malicious) meanes to hurt him, who protected by a braue spirit, and vndaunted courage layd about him with­out feare, but not without such hurt to them, assisted brauely by Leandrus, as they began to flee. Their Master seeing that re [...]il'd them, vowing to hang who euer saued himselfe by base flight, and kill those that fought not bet­ter, though he by that meanes let the hatefull enemy passe. This vrged them againe to perplexe them, but could not now compasse him, hee hauing to preuent that danger, got the Fountaine at his backe, there defending him­selfe; but alas much like a Stagge at Bay, that must for all his courage, yeeld to the multitude and force of many Doggs: and so was he like to doe, (Leandrus hauing a new supply set on him) for hauing receiu'd a wound in the thigh, he bled, so fast as almost his powers faild him, his eyes beginning with faintnesse to dazle, and his strength so fast to decrease, as he leand himselfe against the Fountaine, holding his Sword straight out, meaning he that first seazed him should also meet his owne end; and with [Page 87] this resolution stood the braue reuengefull Louer, his soule bidding his friends and all farewell: Leandrus being but in a little better case, when as an vnexpected good hap befell them by the comming of a Knight in blacke Armour, who seeing this cruell fight, and vnmanly comba [...]ing of many a­gainst two, came happily and speedily to their succour, euen when one had done his last for that time to defend himselfe, which the Lord perceiuing, pressed in vpon Clarimatto, although almost as weake as hee with losse of bloud (spite procuring that, lest he might else want his will in hauing his end some way) so as both valiant, both strong, were now without ability to shew valour, if not in dying with their Swords in their hands, and without strength hauing no more then hatred at that time, allowed to both in those weake limbes, which was no more, then insteed of running one at the other, they reeld and fell one vpon the other, in the fall, the Sword of Clarimatto finding a way into an vnarmed part of his Riuals body, which a blow at the first en­counter had left open, but till then well guarded by the skill and courage of his Master, whose Sword missed him, who else with that had with him taken a graue, both agreeing (by disagreeing) to death. The new-come Knight made a quicke dispatch of the rest, some by death, some by yeel­ding. Leandrus, though weake, going with much care to Clarimatto, and who had in all the fight behaued himselfe so worthily not fearing any thing but continuance of disgrace, and freeing all in true worth, and loue to truth.

The businesse ended, the stranger and Leandrus tooke vp the wounded Clarimatto, and hauing, with vntying his Helme, giuen him some ayre, hee came a little to himselfe, but so besmeer'd with bloud as at first hee was not knowne to the Knight, whose Helme was likewise off; but when discouer'd, O Clarimatto, said he, happy I am to helpe thee, but vnhappy to finde thee thus, my dearest friend, What destiny brought thee hither? What happi­nesse in vnhappinesse met, to make me meet thee thus? Accursed, yet now blest occasion, if thou outliue this victory. If I had conquered, said hee, death yet might haue honour'd me, but to liue vanquished, rather wish I to dye. Thou hast braue Clarimatto, said hee, ouercome, and slaine thine Enemy with thine owne hands. Then am I contented, said hee, though [...]traight I die, and most that I shall yet end in your armes, whom of all men I most loue, none but your selfe could haue had the destiny to helpe me, who onely was, aud is best beloued of me, and herein hath Destiny bles­sed me.

Then came the Lady, who with as much contempt of them, as sorrow for her louer, looked vpon them both, the one dead, the other dying, she said nothing, but kneeled downe by her latter loued friend, and kissed him, rose againe, and looked with infinite hate vpon Clarimatto, and then taking a knife she held vnder her Gowne, stabb'd her selfe, falling betweene them both.

The blacke Knight went to the Castle whither Clarimatto was carried, and soone after died; the bodies of the others were buried in the place where the fight was, the keyes were deliuered to the blacke Knight, who deliuered many braue and valiant Knights, caught by [...]reason, and vnfortu­nate spite, and all Greeks. Then was Leandrus brought into a rich Cham­ber, [Page 88] and the blacke Knight, who had taken poss [...]ssion of that Castle, for the King of Morea, bestowed the keeping of it on Clorimundus his Esquire. With many teares and sighes Clarimatto was buried, who was extreamly be­loued of this blacke Knight, which was Rosindy, with whom hee had beene bred, and nursed.

This being done, and Leandrus, past danger, though not for weakenesse able to remoue, Rosindie left him in the custody of the new Gouernour, and other Knights, who loued him so well, as there was a question, which they more affected their deliuering ioy, and happy inioying, or his safety who had beene the first cause to bring them the other; herein their worths ap­peared, and in better hands Leandrus cannot be left, till his ability call him againe to seruice in other parts. But now Rosindy, must be a little accompani­ed, who taking on his iourney, still resolu'd to performe the command of his Mistris, which was to passe all Greece, and accomplish such aduentures as might make him worthy of her loue, and yet not to discouer the ende of his trauell, or himselfe, to any without ex [...]raordinary occasion. To ob­serue this, he put on those blacke Armes, bearing no Deuice in his Shield, because his desire was onely to be called the vnknowne Knight; the cause why she had thus commanded him was, that the more his honor was known, the more he might be feared when time might serue for him to deliuer her from her Prison, and bondage wherein she liued, from whence as yet shee could not be released.

Thus vuknowne he passed among his best friends, and meaning so to con­tinue he passed from this place to his Fathers Court, there to see what ad­uenture would happen to adde to his fame; besides, to know the certaine time of the pretended Iourney for Albania, but especially when they ap­pointed to free Meriana the chiefe end indeed of his iourney. So he came to the Court, and sending one Squire of his, who well knew all the parts of it, came to Pamphilia's Chamber, who hearing who it was that desired to speake with her, shee straight sent for him, from whom shee learned that her dearely beloued Brother was hard by, but resoluing not to be knowne, had intreated her to come into the pleasant Groue there to conferre with him, which she with much willingnesse, and desire performed. Now this Squire was not knowne of many, besides Pamphilia, nor any whit of Antissia, whose iealousie infinitely vpon this increased, and the more meanes were sought to alter it, the greater did the heate grow; like a Smith that puts wa­ter into his Forge, to make the fire more violently hot. The sweet (but sad) Princesse not mistrusting this, went (as appointed) into the Groue, the suspi­tious Lady, whose heart now lay in her eies to discouer her, soone and secr [...]t­ly followed her, where she discern'd (being in the Euening) a knight so like in proportion to hers, or so had the power of doubt made him, as shee euer belieued it to be himselfe: but when she saw their affectionate imbracements, then was her heart like to breake, not being able to sustaine, but for feare of discouering, as softly, but lesse quietly, being confident, her confidence in his loue, which had before but flattered her to his own ends, and not for loue, had beene a bayt to draw on her destruction. With this dolorous opinion shee retired into her Chamber, where she fell into the most grieuous com­plaints that euer poore afflicted suspitious Lady had endured.

[Page 89]The Princes continuing in the Wood, with all loue and kindnesse the black Knight beginning his discourse. My best, and onely deare Sister know, that after my departure hence, I past thorow most part of Greece to seeke aduen­tures, till I came into Macedon, where I found the King dead, and an Vsur­per strongly placed and setled in his roome: the same of Meriana's beau­ty I likewise encountred, but (alas) shee was shut vp in prison by that Traytor, and so close kept, as none could gaine a sight of her, but with much danger. The Villaine (though her neere Kinsman) keeping her thus, with intent to marry her, if he can gaine her consent; if not, so to hold her inclos'd during her life. But by a blessed chance, as it may happen, I got the sight of her, truely so rare a creature, as my commendations, which cannot with all worldly eloquence, if with best art, imploid to set forth the neerest of her praise come neere to the lowest degree of her perfections; what then should I venture to commend her, whose de­licacie may receiue wrong by my vnperfect tongue, not sufficient to extoll her? Let it suffice, my eyes saw that, which made my heart her slaue; and thus I compassed my ioy. I lay in a house, the Master where­of had serued her Father and Mother, wayting in the Queenes chamber. and now hath libertie to see her when hee will, or hath any businesse with her, as to bring her new apparrell, or such necessarie things, hee being Master of the Wardrobe. This man with whom I often confer­red concerning the Princesse, finding my longing to behold her, and heartily wishing her libertie, brake with mee about it; I hearkned to him, and so wee grew so farre, as wee were fast enough to each other, for betraying our purpose. Then hee caused mee to put on a suite of one of his seruants, who was iust of my stature, and taking new appar­rell to carrie her, sent it by mee, withall, his excuse, that hee was not then able himselfe to come, I went with it, imagining my selfe more then a Prince, in being so happie to be his Seruant to such an end. When I came, the Maides that attended her, told her of my comming, and of my selfe, being a stranger, and neuer there before; shee sent for me demaunding many things of me, which (as well as so much amazednesse, as I was in, beholding her, could permit me) I answered. Shee tooke delight to see me so mou'd, imagining it had been out of ba [...]hfulnes, which she made sport with.

Thus for some time it continued, till one day my Master went himselfe, with whom the Princesse had much discourse concerning me, and among the rest, shee very much prest to know what Country man I was, and at last directly who I was: for (said shee) either hee is a verie foolish fel­low, or some other then he seemes to bee, which I rather doe imagine; therefore faile not, but tell mee by the respect and loue you beare mee, what you know of him?

Hee who loued mee as his Sonne, was loath to discouer mee direct­lie, for feare of danger; yet considering, that if at all, hee were much better tell who I was, and the cause of my disguise, which would pur­chase mee more good, then dissembling. Vpon promise of her being no way offended, nor discouering it, which if knowne, would cost my life; he told her all, and withall added my extreame affection to her. When [Page 90] shee at first heard it, shee seemd offended, yet after said, she was contented to keepe counsell, vpon condition that I presently went thence, and neuer more attempted to come where shee was, in so disguis'd a habit to wrong her.

When I receiu'd this message of death, I knew not whether I should thank or blame my friend: in an agonie I was afflicted to the highest, perplexed in soule; in briefe, I was but torment, and with it tormented my selfe. Words I had none, nor other action, but going straight to my chamber, throwing my selfe on the bed, and there lay I sencelesse, speechlesse, and motion-lesse for some houres, as they told mee, in which time hee went to her againe, telling her how hee had left mee, and that shee had kild a braue Prince, and her hopefull kinsman; adding, How doe you thinke Madam euer to bee freed, when you vse such as would venture for your freedome with this scorne? long enough will you remaine here, and bee a Prisoner for any hope you can haue of deliuerie by these fashions: but it may bee you affect this life, or meane to marrie Clotorindus; if so, I haue done amisse, for which I beseech you pardon me, and him, with whom I will likewise leaue Macedon: for what shall I doe here, where worth is contemned, and slauerie esteemed?

When shee heard the honest speech of my Master, and saw the likeli­hood of loosing him, in whom onely shee could haue assurance of truth and trust, shee told him, his loue and truth had gaind his pardon; for shee would not haue him goe by any meanes. For mee, shee would haue mee sent to her, with whom shee would speake (since shee could not belieue, such a Prince would take such a course for her loue), and direct me what I should doe, if shee found I was the man he spake of. Hee returning, told mee of it; and the time being come, I resolu'd (though for it I did die) since shee did mistrust mee to goe like my selfe; so as putting on my owne clothes, and my Sword by my side, but my Masters cloake vpon them, I past into the Garden, and so into a Gallerie, the honest man directing mee there to tarrie, till shee came vnto mee. When shee appeared, it was like a blazing Starre, foretelling my lost life and liberty, if she did still perseuer [...] in her crueltie. But when shee spake, my heart was so possessed, as I had not one word to answere her; onely throwing off my disguise, kneeling downe, and gazing on her, was the manner of my suing to her.

Shee came then nearer, and taking mee vp, shee said: My Lord (for so my Seruant telles mee I may call you), much doe I wonder, why dis­guis'd till this time you haue continued? If for loue, your iudgement much erred, to thinke I could affect so low as a Seruant; if for other ends, my selfe would neuer doe my selfe the wrong, to thinke of any vnnoble course: and if the first, why did you not seeke to discouer it?

Diuine Lady (said I), farre be it from me to haue a thought to iuiure that vertue, which admiringly I loue, and louing, honour; the reason why I remaind disguis'd and vnknowne, was the happinesse I conceiued in seeing you, and the feare I had to loose that happinesse, no way so much flattering my selfe, as to haue a hope to attaine to that, whereto my best thoughts [Page 91] ambitiously did flee: feare kept me silent, loue made me feare. Now you haue it, dispose of mee mercifully, else soone after this discouerie, bee pleasd to heare of my sad end. She it seemd had pitie, but not so much as to expresse it, wherfore she only answered thus. To assure me of your loue, and you of pity, this is the course you must take; instantly leaue this place, nor returne vnto it, vntill such time as your fame by your noble deeds may proue such, as shall make you worthy of my loue; then returne, release mee with your owne hands; make me perfectly know, you are Prince Rosindy, and I wil giue my self vnto you. I with all ioy promised those conditions should be performd. She smil'd, and said, a Louer would promise any thing. I will die (said I) but ac­complish these. Then will I be yours (said she). That gaue me a full heauen of ioy; so kneeling downe againe, and taking her hand, I kist it, and on it seald my vow. But one thing more (said she) I would haue you doe; let all these deeds be done, while you still keepe your name of the Vnknowne, and so bee cald till you returne, vnlesse some great occasion happen to reueale your selfe. I promisd likewise this, and so by that name of Vnknowne, I haue past these ten moneths, neuer discouering my selfe to any, but lately to Leandrus, and a braue Gentleman (then told he her the whole aduenture), and now vnto your selfe. With promise of her loue, my vow anew solemnely made, I took my leaue, my hart fild with sorrow to part, and my soule ready to leaue this earthly cage, grieuing so much to leaue my better self: she in like sort was sorry, and pretily exprest it; yet would not let too much bee seene, lest it might stay me, so we parted. I happie, and sorry; she sorry, and most happy in her owne noble vertues. But now mee thinkes the time is so long, as de­sire makes me haste homewards, accounting that my home where my soule remaines: but to this place I came first of purpose, to heare what resolution was taken for the conquest of Albania, but most for the reliefe of Macedon. To obay my Ladies commaund, I came secretly, and so will remaine vn­knowne, but to you my dearest Sister: now tell mee what you heare, and keepe my knowledge to your selfe?

Pamphilia with infinite ioy hearing this story, and the braue fortune like to befall her deare brother, tooke him affectionately by the hand, vsing these words: Most worthy to bee held dearest brother; the happinesse is much greater which I conceiue, then able to expresse, seeing the likelihood of your worthily merited fortune: What I know, I were a poore weake woman, if I would conceale from you, or reueale of you. Therefore, know the intent was to conquer Albania first: but whether the absence of Steriamus will hinder it or no, I yet know not; but this I beleeue, that such meanes may be wrought as to preferre Macedon before the other, and since your content, and fortunes lie that way, if you will trust me, I will order it so, as that shall bee first.

Bind mee more if you can, sweete Sister, and to make mee happy, en­ioy the authoritie ouer mee and mine (said hee). Then did shee entreate him, that hee would for a while tarrie there, which hee graunted, till such time as they could order their affaires according to their owne minds. While this content lasted to Pamphilia, as much griefe increased to An­tissia, which griefe at last grew to rage, and leauing sorrow fell to spite, vow­ing to reuenge, and no more complaine; this thought did so farre possesse [Page 92] her, as her countenance bewrayed her heart, shunning the sight of Pamphilia who with loue and respect did coue [...] hers. This change made the sweet Prin­cesse infinitely admire, what the reason should bee that now mooued her, she seeming to haue remaind satisfied. But those who know that languishing paine, also know, that no perfect satisfaction can be, vnlesse the humor it selfe with satisfaction doe quite leaue the possessed: for as long as one sparke liues though neuer so little, it is able with the least occasion, or signe of occasion, to make a great fire, and so did it now proue. Pamphilia desirous to haue no vnkindnes betweene them, sought all waies to please her: this was as ill a course, as if of scorne she had done it, or in pitie (hauing deceiu'd her) would shew the most despised, and contemptible friendship, which is pitie. Madnes grew so vpon this, as she burst out into strange passions, especially one day, when as Embassadours came from the young King of Romania, to giue thanks to the King of Morea, for his royall curtesie to his Aunt [...] who by the Knight of Loue, he vnderstood to be in his Court, giuing withall such infinite praises of him, to the vnspeakable ioy of the old King, and all the Court, knowing him to bee Amphilanthus, as mirth liberally shewed her selfe in all faces but Antissia's. The Embassadour hauing deliuered letters to her, both from Amphilanthus, and the King, wherein she was intreated to come into Roma­nia to him, and by her seruant aduised, not to refuse the Kings demand, but to goe with the Embassadour, which was the new Duke Lizandrinus, whither in short time himselfe would also come: but the more sweet and kind lan­guage hee vs'd in his letter, the greater was her conceite, it was vsed to flatter her, complement neuer being vsed in the time of her happinesse, es­pecially when she came to the point of going, she directly concluded, that he had laid that tricke vpon her, to be rid of her sight, and the fre [...] ­lier to enioy his new Mistris, and this she angerly told Pamphilia, whispering in her eare, withall adding, that he might aswell haue told her thus much himselfe, con­sidering she saw him, and you braue Lady (said she) last night in the Garden­wood. Pamphilia between feare to haue her brother discouerd by her malice & disdaine so vniustly to be accused, her bloud scorning to lie stil when it was wrongd, boldly shewd it self in her face with thretning anger: but this mou'd a cōtrary effect thē feare, increasing base iealousie in stead of noble thoughts & assurance of that she falsely conceiued, prouing this to be true, that mistrust which is most times built vpō falshood, gaines greatest assurance frō the falsest grounds. She seeing her blush (as she cald it) by that iudging guiltines, and that, working spite, went away laden with scorne, & her own suspition, which now wrought to fury. Into her chamber she went, where throwing her selfe vpon her bed, careles of ease or hansomnes, she brake into these speeches. Ac­cursed day that first knew Antissia breathing, why was not the aire pesti­lent, the milke poyson, the armes that held me serpents, and the breasts that gaue mee suck venom'd? and all these chang'd from their proper goodnesse to haue wrought my destruction? Miserable fate that brought me to be [...] lost, and found by him who now [...]uines me, Treacherous Loue, but more treacherous Louer; I might (wretch that I was) haue taken heed by others, and not haue runne into the same danger my selfe; now I am well requited, and payed in the same kind, for glorying at them, and in my gaine, while they waild vnder the waight of his forsaking them; now must I tread with [Page 93] them in the path of that miserie. Fond creatures that ioy in this, be­ware, this must at last bee your owne; your turne 'twill bee (though last) to leade the dance.

False creature; was it not enough to deceiue mee of my liberty, and honour, but to ouerthrow me vtterly? to destroy my quiet content, which in the smart of your loue I enioyed? Cursed bee the time I admired your sweetnesse, and familiar kindnesse, your louing care, and tender respect, which made my heart too soft, yeelding to the power of your allu­rings. Is it come to this? Was all your fondnesse for this purpose? Did you only striue to win, to cast away at pleasure? Were all your desired meetings for this, to make me the more miserably end with neglectiue forsakennesse? If any man could be true, I assured my selfe it must be you. O that I had enough considered, there was doubt iustlie made of mans truth in loue; then had I more safely defended my selfe from this disaster. Amphilan­thus, thou wert Noble, iust, free: How is this change? Can noblenesse bee, where deceit rules? Can iustice be where cousonage gouerns? can freedome bee, where falshood liues? Those were: but these are now in thee. Was thy sadnesse for this new wound? Alas, I assured my selfe it was for parting from mee, that so much change did grow. Could not I (blinde foole that I was) haue markt his often frequenting Pam­philia's Chamber? his priuate discourse with her? his seeking opportu­nitie to bee in her presence? his stolne lookes? his fearefull but amo­rous touching her hand? his kissing his owne hand, rather comming from hers, then going to hers? Louing it more for hauing touch'd that beloued hand, then for being his. Oft would hee doe this, and looke on mee, then did I beleeue, all was meant to mee, which he did to her, and wisht it had been I, his eyes betraid mee, my beliefe bewitched mee, and his falshood must kill mee. Churlish affection, why torture you me alone? make him likewise smart, make her likewise vexe. But I need not curse her, since (poore Lady) she is but entring into her following perplexi­tie. Alas Pamphilia, I pitie thee, and indeed loue thee no whit lesse then before; I cannot, nor may not blame thee for louing him, since none can re­sist his conquering force in loue, nor for seeking him: for whose soule would not couet him? but I blame him for spoyling poore hearts to his glorious triumph. Vnnaturall man that preyes on his owne kind, nourishing his life with the ruine of simple innocent Louers; a cruell foode, but cru­eller deuourer of them: which hath wrought this hardnesse in mee, as from hence to loue thee, but till I can bee reueng'd of thee; and such a reuenge will I haue, as thy hard heart shall melt for it, if any goodnesse bee left in it; for ouer the world will I seeke thee (my iourney to Roma­nia once ended) to bee thus quit with thee, that thy false eyes, and flat­tring tongue, shall bee no longer able to deceiue, or betray thy selfe or o­thers, but behold the true end of me, who gaine my death by thy false­hood, and in thy presence will I conclude my life with my loue to thee. I wondred, yet neuer had wit to doubt, why so much Ceremonie lately came from you; ceremonie indeede, being a shadow, not sub­stance of true loue. Change wrought it, and change put on the habit of that which once was loue: for once I know you loued mee, and was [Page 94] fond of me; fond, I fondnesse it may most properly be cald; for loue is eter­nall, but this changeable. Many wee see fond of sports, of horses, of doggs; and so was it my dogged fortune, to haue you fond of me: but the immor­tall part, the soule, is not fond, but louing, which loue for euer liues; and this loue wanted I, onely enioying his fond, and fondly proou'd desires, which are remou'd, and haue left nothing behind, but the sad remembrance of my once great and highest esteem'd blessing; now remaine I, throwne downe into the darknesse of despaire, and losse, by losse of his affection.

Thus discoursing, tossing vpon her Bed, she remain'd; fed not, nor slept all that night: the next morning early going to the Garden Woods, whither she sooner came then Pamphilia, where being a while, and sitting vnder the same Ashe, wherein the other affectionate afflicted Princesse had written the Sonnet, shee was inuited, either by her owne passion, or the imitati­on of that excellent Lady, to put some of her thoughts in some kind of measure, so as shee perplexed with loue, iealousie, and losse as shee be­leeu'd, made this Sonnet, looking vpon the Sunne, which was then of a good height.

Vndoe (cride she), alas I am vndone, ruind, destroyd, all spoild by being forsaken, restlesse affliction which proceeds from forsaking: yet would I bee beholding to this Enemie of mine, if forsaking in my torments would pos­sesse me, so I might remaine forsaken by them: but that must not bee, I must onely know pleasure, happinesse, and the chiefe of happinesses loue, from my beloued forsake mee; but paine, torture, and shame will still abide, and dwell with me. Then went shee a little further towards the Riuer, where by the banke vnder the Willow lay the supposed Amphilanthus, the cause of all this businesse; his Helme was off, by reason of the heate, and securenesse from being discouered, not indeed being possible for any, except Antissia, who had by Pamphilia's leaue a key to those walkes to come within them of that side of the Riuer: shee had gone to him rashly, had not his voyce staid her, whereat she started at first, and then trembled with feare and ioy, thin­king [Page 85] by that likewise it had beene her Loue: Iealousie had so transform'd her, as it was impossible for her to heare, or see, or know any thing but Am­philanthus, and her sorrow for him; when at another time shee would haue laught at her selfe for making such vnlikelinesse vexe her; hee spake but low, as it were whispering to himselfe these words. O my deare, when shall I (wretch) againe inioy thy sight, more deare, more bright to me then brightest day, or my owne life? Most sweet Commandresse of my on­ly blisse, when, oh when shall I againe be blessed? Canst thou leaue me thy loyall seruant, here or any where, but with thy best deseruing selfe? Shall I lye here in secret, complaining, when they selfe maist succour me? Quick­ly alas, releeue me, neuer more neede, neuer more loue sought it. These words gaue her full assurance 'twas he, and iealousie told her they were spo­ken to Pamphilia. Rage now outgoing iudgement, shee flew to him; vn­gratefull man, or rather monster of thy sexe, said she, behold before thee, thy shame in my dishonour wrought by my loue, and thy change? Rosin­dy was amazed, and fear'd betraying, wondring his Sister was so carelesse of him: shee seeing her rash and vnpardonable fault, in hauing thus wrong'd her Loue, stood in such a depth of amazednesse, and torment (all affections working at once their owne waies in her) as she was a meere Chaos, where vnfram'd, and vnorder'd troubles had tumbled themselues together with­out light of Iudgement, to come out of them.

The blacke Knight beheld her, wondring more at her manner, and for­mer speech, then now heeding his being knowne, admiring at her passion, and not vnderstanding her words, to his thinking neuer hauing seene her, and therefore not guilty of her blaming him. But now was shee a little come to her selfe, but so as feare, and modesty causd so much bashfulnesse as scarce shee could bring forth what she desired; but with eyes cast downe and a blushing face, shee with much adoe, said thus. Sir, I beseech you as a Louer (for so I perceiue you are) hide the imperfections of one of that num­ber, my selfe vnfortunatly hauing fallen into the worst extremity, which is Iealousie, and worse, if may bee worse, without cause as now I perceiue, but falshood which hath caused it. I mistooke you, and more haue mistaken my selfe, or indeed my better selfe: conceale I beseech in this, and if I may serue you in any thing, for requitall command, and I will obey you. Faire Lady, said he, I cannot but exceedingly pitty your estate, and with the happiest a­mendment to it [...] My humblest suit vnto you shall be onely this, that you will conceale my being heere, not esteeming me so worthy as once (after your going hence) to remember you saw me, till such time, as it may for­tune, I may doe you seruice, or that I come to acknowledge this fauour from you, and I shall in the like obey you. As shee was answering, and promi­sing that, Pamphilia came, but with infinite discontent against Antissia for being there, when as shee without dissembling, but withall vnfaigned loue, and shame, fell at her feer, beseeching her pardon, crying out, that neuer liu'd there a more vnbless'd Creature then her selfe, who had now liu'd to wrong the two perfect mirrours of their Sexes, with the base (and most wor­thy of contempt) humour of suspition.

Pamphilia tooke her vp, and quickly was the peace made, the one seeking to giue all satisfaction, the other willing to receiue any, rather then for that [Page 96] businesse to make more stirring. Then with promise of her secret holding, the Knights being there, not so much as desiring to know his name, lest that might make suspition, she desired to know, to discouer. Againe she depar­ted contended, and as happy as before she had beene disquieted; onely now grieued that she had wrong'd Amphilanthus. She gone the deare Brother and Sister sate downe together, Pamphilia speaking thus.

My long stay (said shee) might haue marr'd your promise and my desired care of keeping you secret, had not this good chance of acknowledgement wrought the contrary; but howsoeuer it had brought little harme to you, since long, I feare, you will not here abide, after you vnderstand the newes I bring, which is this. My Father was this morning in Councell, where it was set downe that Macedon is fittest to be first releeu'd, and the rather, be­cause it is more easie to gaine the Kingdome out of one Vsurpers hand, then out of many. My Mother hath beene infinite earnest, and as earnest as if she knew your mind, her reason being, that the young Queene is her Neece, as you know, and Macedon once quieted, Albania will be the sooner won. Selarinus the younger Brother likewise hath desired the businesse of Alba­nia may be layd aside till Steriamus be heard of, not willing to bee thought hasty in winning honour, and loue in his owne Countrey in the absence of his Brother: and in truth, I must say, he doth like himselse in it, and that is like one of the finest Princes I know, for so he is, and the like will you say when you once knowe him, and know him you must, his ambition (as he termes it) being to gaine the honour of your friendship, and to be your Companion in your trauels. I haue promis'd him to be the meanes for him; and beleeue me brother, you will thank me for it, since a sweeter disposition match'd with as noble a minde, and braue a courage, you neuer (I beleeue) encountred.

Rosindy was so ioy'd with this discourse, as he knew not almost what this last part of her speech was: wringing her hand, O said he, the blessed Mes­senger of eternall happinesse; but what Forces shall goe to redeeme her? The number from hence, said she, are fifty thousand, from Achaia twenty, from Romania twenty, the Achaians are to be demanded by Ambassadors now appointed; that Army to be lead by Leandrus, the Romanians by Ly­sandrinus, the same Duke who is here now with vs, and who certainly as­sures my Father, that number will not be refus'd by his Master, but rather more forces added to them. Now doth my Father wish for you to lead his men, desiring you should haue the honour of this braue attempt, by strong working of diuine knowledge, I thinke, vnderstanding your minde. Choose now whether you will breake promise or no, to your Mistris; yet doe I not see, but the liberty she gaue you, will permit you to doe this; No, said he, deare Pamphilia, counsell me not to be vniust, and in the greatest to mine owne vow, and that vowe to my Loue? But thus you may helpe mee, as­sure my Father that you know where to finde me, and let him reserue the honour of the charge for me, and you bring mee to receiue it, in which time I will post to Macedon, and get leaue to returne, and take the charge: This they agreed vpon, so being somewhat late she left her Brother there, promising to come againe to him after Dinner, and then to let him know the Kings answer, and so take leaue of each other. She return'd when as [Page 97] she found the King and the whole Court assembled to see, and heare a strange aduenture. An aged man of graue and maiestick countenance, haire white as snow, and beard downe to his girdle, bound in strong chaines of iron; a young man likewise enchaind with him, foure Squires leading them, the old man with teares, and pitifull groanes telling his story thus. Most fa­mous King, behold before you the distressed king of Negroponte, brought in­to this misery by my owne folly, so much doating on a daughter of mine, as I suffered my selfe to fall into the sinne of forgetfulnesse to this my sonne, too worthy I confesse for me, deseruing a farre better title then my sonne, vnlesse I had been a more natural father; For such was my affection to that vngrate­full child of mine, as I disinherited my soone cald Dolorindus, whose vertues appeare by the blacke sinnes of his sister, who I euen now grieue to name: but why should my sorrow bee increased with the sight of your noble com­passions? or better to say, Why should so worthlesse a creature moue sor­row in such royall minds? to auoide which, I will as briefly, as my miserable relation will giue me leaue, discourse my tragick storie to you.

After I had vnnaturally disinherited Dolorindus here present, I gaue the kingdome (which came by my wife, and she dead) to Ramilletta, my vngrati­ous daughter, who requited me, as Vipers doe their Dam; for no sooner had shee the possession, but she fell into such ill gouernment, and indeed beastly liuing, as the report wounded my honour, and staind my blood: I ashamed, grieued at it, told her of it, perswaded her to leaue it, telling her, how cruell a blow it was to my soule; to see her shame. Shee made mee no answer, but with her eyes cast downe, left the roome where I was. I thought confession and repentance had caus'd this countenance: but alas, I was deceiued, for it was rage, and scorne procured it, as soone I found: for instantly came in a number of her seruants, who tooke me, and cast mee into a darke terrible pri­son, where they kept me one whole yeare: then came Dolorindus, and stroue with al his wit and power to release me; but finding it could not be wrought by other meanes then good nature; desiring, that as he had life from me, hee might haue death also with me. She taking some pitie of him, or rather not willing to shed his bloud her selfe (though shee cared not who did) told him, that if hee could ouercome two knights, which shee would appoint to encounter him, hee should haue his owne, and my liberty, else to be at her dispose. This hee agreed vnto, glad that hee had a shadow of hope (for no more it proued) for my release, vndertaken by him. The day was appointed, when as I was brought into a little place, made of purpose for seeing the com­bate; shee, and her seruants hoping this would be the last day of my trouble to them, when I should see Dolorindus slaine, and her cruelty increase, both which must (as they did trust) end my life with breaking of my heart; and so indeed it neerely had, and would assuredly, had my sonne been kild, whose loue to me, did make my fault so foule before me, as affection proued curster then affliction. But to the matter: so brauely did my Dolorindus behaue him­selfe for our deliueries, as although the other were such, as still if a chal­lenge were made, they were chosen; if any valiant man had been named, they had bin instantly commended with him; nay, such confidence all had of their strength, as if the kingdome had bin in danger to be lost, and only to be saued by combate, these would haue been set for the Defendants, yet were [Page 98] these two ouercome by Dolorindus, and in our presence had their liues ended by his braue arme, who yet had sufferd his bloud to accompany their deaths, trickling downe as fast, as the teares from a mothers eies, for the losse of her dearest sonne: so much indeed he lost, as he was for faintnes forced to bee carried away to Chirurgions (I thought) and so to safetie. In some kind this was true, but not to libertie; for she seeing the honour he had got, and fea­ring the loue of the people would fall vpon him, seeing his worth, she kindly in shew brought him into a rich chamber, and had his wounds drest, taking infinite care of him: but as soone as he recouerd, hee was for safetie shut in­to a strong Tower, where he remaind till within these few moneths, my selfe carried backe againe into my prison, where I was vext with the continuall discourse of her brauery, of Dolorindus death, and of her marriage with an vndeseruing man, who in my life of gouernment I euer hated, no worth be­ing at all in him, that he should deserue mention; but that he had no worth in him meriting mention; neuer so detestable a Villaine breathing. This creature she fell in loue withall, and liued withall; but now I thinke is partly wearie of, because shee doth expose him to fight for her honour, being be­fore so fond of him, as she was afraid the wind should almost blow vpon him: but him shee hath brought, and three more his brothers; and if these fower can bee ouercome, by any Knights in this Court, wee shall bee set at liber­tie, else remaine Prisoners, which wee haue consented vnto. Now Sir, if you please to giue vs such knights, they shall enter.

The King answered, that such vnnaturalnesse deserued a farre sharper pu­nishment, and that there was no sense, a Combat should end so foule a busi­nesse. Hee replide, that hee was contented, and therefore desired but the knights, and for the matter, it was already determined. Then stept Selari­nus forth, desiring to bee one; Pamphilia likewise intreated, shee might haue the fauour to bring another, who shee would vndertake for, meaning the Prince of Corinth; the Prince of Elis would not bee denied to bee the third; and Lisandrinus humbly besought in such a businesse he might be the fourth.

This was agreed vpon, so Pamphilia went to the Wood, and there dis­coursing the businesse to her brother, hee instantly resolued to be one, and whether she would or no, came with her, his Beauer close for feare of dis­couery, doubting nothing else but his face to betray him; for so much was hee growne in height and bignesse, as hee could not be taken for Rosindy. The fower Defendants being there met, the rest entred, Ramiletta going in the midst of the fower Challengers, two before her, two behind her, but so farre asunder, as they made from corner to corner the fashion of a Saltier crosse. So terrible were these to behold, as few could indure to looke vpon them, onely her seruant was a little milder in his countenance, and somewhat lesse then the others. Their haire was of a browne red colour [...] and brist­led; their eyes of answerable bignesse to their bodies, but furiosly sparkling fier. When Pamphilia saw these Monsters, shee would as willinglie haue had her Brother thence, as hee ambitiously wisht to haue the Combate begin: then followed fifty knights without swords, but their Beauers close, being such, as the old King told the Court, were taken, seeking to deliuer them from bondage, and who were brought [Page 99] along with them for witnesse of their valour and power. These huge men, who were cald the ter [...]ible and vnconquered Brethren, nor the Lady, made any reuerence, but gazed vpon the company and Ladies, who there stood to behold them: then were they carried to the Lists, the old man againe spea­king: Sir, these are the Challengers; may it please you that the Defendants likewise go. The King was sorry for the Knights, & in his mind more trou­bled, then long time before he had bin, once being of the mind to haue hin­dred it: but considering his honor was ingaged, in that, he went on, comman­ding his great Marshall neuertheles to haue some other number of Knights ready arm'd vpon any occasion. This was done, and so being all in the Lists, the Iudges plac'd, and the Trumpets sounding, Ramiletta was brought in her Chariot of pale greene Veluet, made of an vnusuall fashion, and those fiftie knights standing round about her, the old man and his son being in a feate be­hind her in the same Chariot. The Iusts beginning, the Vnknowne Knight encountred the greatest of the foure; Selarinus the next in bignesse and fierce­nesse, almost his equall; Lisandrinus the third, and the Prince of Elis the fourth. The first encounter was strong and terrible, for the mourning Knight was struck flat vpon his backe, and his aduersaries horse was with the blow strooke dead, his Master by that meanes falling to the ground; Selarinus and his enemie both vnwillingly saluting the earth with their heads, the rest had likewise that fortune: then brauely began the fight with the swords, which continued one whole howre, no aduantage being seene, till the Prince of Elis with extreame losse of bloud, and a wound in his leg, fell to the earth; at that instant had the vnknowne Knight giuen his enemy a wound in the thigh, which was so great, and besides giuen crosse, as he could not stand, but like a huge mast of a ship, with the storme of this blow laid his greatnes along; the other going to strike off the Prince of Elis his head, was by the blacke Knight hindred, striking off that arme, which was depriuing the Prince of his life. At this he cried out, giuing the watchword which was among them, so as the other, who had now euen wearied their foes, left them, running to the place where the Princes sat, catching Pamphilia in their armes, and straight carrying her into the Chariot; the other fifty at the instant got Swords for the accomplishing of their wills, priuately hid in the Chariot, a place being made vnder the seate for them, the Hilts onely out, which were taken to bee but artificially made to seeme Swords, and placed for ornaments round a­bout the body of the Chariot, being all painted about, and caru'd with Tro­phies, and such like deuices. Then did the old man as soone as they had their prey, turne Chariot man, driuing the Horses with great swiftnesse, the King cride for helpe; but alas, in vaine as it seem'd, tearing his haire for this ouer­sight. But soone was this businesse ended, for Selarinus marking their trea­son, leapt vp vpon his horse againe, pursuing them, and ouertaking them, kild the former horse, the rest running, fell ouer him, so as the Chariot was staid. Then came two strange Knights, who by chance were going to the Court, to whom the Traytor cride for helpe, saying, That that Knight by force would take his Lady from him, beseeching euen with teares to haue their help, for (said he) here is the famous Princesse Pamphilia, whom this Villaine would take from mee, and abuse. With that the strange Knights began to prepare, but Selarinus told them, they were best take heed, for (said hee) [Page 100] this is all false that he reports, and hee hath stolne by treason this Lady from the Court, where there is yet a cruell fight, I hauing left them to rescue this Princesse. One of them straight knew his voice, so as drawing their swords on his side, as before they were ready to doe it against him, they drew to the Chariot, demaunding of the Princesse if this were true? She answered, Yes; and therefore (said she) assist this worthy Prince. Then they tooke the old man and youth, and as before they were in counterfeit chaines; they made them sure in true ones, tying them with the false Ramiletta to the hind end of the Chariot, so putting their Squires to leade the horses. With this braue Princesse they returnd, and most fortuately for the other distressed Knights at the Court, who were so tired with the terrible Brothers, and fifty other, as they were almost at their last, the poore vnarmd Courtiers lying as thicke slaine, as if they had strewed the place with their brauery, in stead of flowers: the Marshal came with his troop: but so little could he auaile, as only taking the King, and carrying him away to safetie with the Queene, and such as did run with them, left the two braue Combatants to defend themselues, who did so brauely, as they had slaine two of the Brothers out-right, Rosindy ha­uing kild one, wounded the other in the thigh, and now was fighting with him, whom Selarinus had first encountred, but very weake with wearines, and losse of bloud, the fierce man prest sorely on him, when Selarinus again came, and finish'd his begun worke, giuing him a blow on the head, which made him stagger, and seconding it, laid him on the earth: then leapt he from his horse, lifting the blacke Knight vp in his stead, and so strake he off the head [...] of that Traytor. Now was there but one left, and he wounded, yet the num­ber of Knights were little decreased, so as if the two new knights had not come, they would haue been in a farre worse case, who so brauely behaued themselues, as soone the victory was clearely theirs. Rosindy bestirring him­selfe in such manner, as who euer had seene him, and told the Queene his Mi­stris of it, that alone, without any other Conquest, had been enough to win her.

By this all was quiet, then tooke they some of those Knights, who had yeelded and demaunded mercy, the wounded Brother, and the traiterous old man, Ramiletta, and the youth, going with this troope into the Pallace; the body likewise of the Prince of Elis they carried with them, which yet seemd but his body, no breath stirring, nor any shew of life appearing, till be­ing laid in his bed, and carefully lookt vnto, his old Father being there grie­ued in heart, yet the better contented, since if he died, it would be to his ho­nour for euer, to end his daies in so noble an aduenture; life againe possessed him, but weakely expressing it selfe for many daies, yet did he rocouer. When this company came into the Hall, straight came the King vnto them, run­ning to Pamphilia, and weeping with ioy to see her free againe, so as in a pre­tie space he could not speake vnto her, but when, O my deere heart (said he) what treason was there here against mee, to depriue mee of thy sight? Shee comforting him, and letting some teares fall, as dutifully shed to wait on him, besought him, since shee found that blessednesse, as his so great affection to her, that he would thanke those, who restored her to him; then taking them all one after another in his armes, he desired to know the blacke Knight.

[Page 101] Pamphilia then answerd. Sir, said shee, this Knight is so ingaged by a vow, as he can hardly let his name be knowne; yet since, this liberty was gi­uen, that vpon extraordinary occasion hee might reueale himselfe, I will vndertake the discouering, and fault (if fault there be in this) vpon mee, and then turning to him, Braue Brother, said shee, comfort our Fathers age with the happinesse of the sight of such an incomparable Sonne, w [...]th that Rosindy pulling off his Helme kneeled downe. But when the King beheld him, he fell vpon his necke, with such affection kissing him, as if all his loue were at that instant in him, and ioynd together to expresse it to him. Then was command giuen for a rich Chamber for him, whither he was lead, Selarinus accompanying him, being lesse hurt then he, yet had he not escaped free from remembrance of that diuellish creature. All now at peace, no discourse was but of the valour of the defendants, but especially the honor of Rosindy was blazed abroad, hauing with his own hand kil'd one of the Brothers, wounded another, and wearied the third to death, slaine many of the Knights, and by his example done so much, as incouraged the weake bodies of the rest, whose hearts neuer faild. Then Selarinus was com­mended exceedingly, and indeed with great cause, for his valour was [...]quall with most, his care that day exceeding others. Pamphilia being saued from imprisonment by him. Lisandrinus will all honour respected, who made manifest proofe of his valour, and affection to the Court. The Prince of Elis did so well, as made all assured of his being a braue Knight, this the first of his aduentures hauing so manfully performed: for had not an vnlucky blow in the legge hindred him from standing, he had also slaine his foe. The two last Knights were of the Court, one, Sonne to the Marshall, cald Liza­rino; and the other, Tolimandro, Prince of Corinth. The Traytors were all carried to a strong Tower, where they remaind till the Knights were well againe recouered, which in short time was to the great ioy and comfort of euery one.

Now did Pamphilia thinke it fit to acquaint the King with her Brothers businesse; wherefore first asking lea [...]e of Rosindy, shee did; the King being infinite glad of this newes, went straight vnto his lodging, whom he found alone, but for Selarinus, who neuer left him, as strict and firme an affection growing betweene them, as euer liued in two mens hearts, one vnto ano­ther. Then did the King impart vnto him, what Pamphilia had told him, which was confirmed by Rosindy, the match liked, and commended by the King: the resolution was, as Pamphilia before had told him, and hee chosen Generall of the Morean forces, Selarinus his Lieutenant [...] and thus with pre­paring for these wars, and euery one contented (except the louing Ladies); Loue must againe be a little discoursed of.

Parselius (who making haste after Amphilanthus) [...]ooke his way tho­row Morea; but after not as hee was directed by the Squires, but along Achaia, crossing the Gulfe of Lepanto, which course might make him misse the King, if hee came short of the Combate; they resoluing to take their course backe againe by sea to Morea, aswell to trie aduentures in the Islands, as to hasten the forces, that being a shorter way: but here did Parselius, as destined for him (for till now hee still obeyed the other) meete a greater force then hee imagined, being in a Forrest benighted, [Page 102] and hauing none with him except his Cousins Squire, and his owne. In that solitary place they layd them downe for that night: The next day going on in that Desart till they came to a strong and braue Castle, situated in a litle Plaine, a great moate about it, and ouer it a draw Bridge, which at that time was downe, and some Seruants vpon it, looking vpon the water which was broad and finely running: when the Prince came neere the place, they turnd their eyes to him, who courteously saluted them, and demaunded, whose Castle that was; they replied, it was the Kings, and that there liu'd within it his faire Daughter Dalinea. Is shee, said the Prince, to be seene? If so, I pray let her know that heere is a Knight desires to kisse her hand, well knowne to her Brother, and who had the honour to bee his Companion. One of the seruants instantly ranne in, others went to take their horses, while Parselius lighted, and put off his Helme, wiping his face with his delicate white and slender hand, rubbing his haire, which delicatly and na­turally curling made rings, euery one of which were able to wed a heart to it selfe. By that time the Messenger returnd: leading him first into a stately Hall, then vp a faire paire of stone staires, caru'd curiously in I­mages of the Gods, and other rare workmanship: at the topp they came into a braue roome richly hang'd with hangings of Needle-worke, all in Silke and Gold, the Story being of Paris his Loue, and rape of Helen; out of that they passed into another roome, not so big, but farre richer, the furniture being euery way as sumptuous if not bettering it; but what made it indeed excell, was that, here was Dalinea sitting vnder a Cloth of Estate, of Carnation Veluet, curiously and richly set with Stones, all ouer being Em­brodered with purle of Siluer, and Gold, the Gold made in Sunnes, the Siluer in Starres, Diamonds, Rubies, and other Stones plentifully and cun­ningly compassing them about, and plac'd as if for the Skye where they shin'd; but she standing appeard so much brighter, as if all that had been, but to set forth her light, so farre excelling them, as the day wherein the Sunne doth shew most glorious, doth the drowsiest day. Her Ladies who attended her, were a little distant from her in a faire compasse Window, where also stood a Chaire, wherein it seemed she had been sitting, till the newes came of his arriuall. In that Chaire lay a Booke, the Ladies were all at worke; so as it shewed, she read while they wrought. All this Par­selius beheld, but most the Princesse, who he so much admir'd, as admirati­on wrought so farre, as to permit him to thinke that she equal'd Vrania; this was a sudden stepp from so entyre a Loue, as but now hee vowed to his Shepherdesse, being an Heresie, as he protested, for any man to thinke there liu'd a creature like his Loue. But into this hee is now falne, and will lead the faction against her. Vncertaine Tyrant Loue, that neuer brings thy Fauourits to the topp of affection, but turnes againe to a new choice; Who would haue thought any but Vrania's beauty, could haue inuited Parselius to loue? Or who could haue thought, any might haue withdrawne it, till this sight? Which so much mou'd as he loues Vrania, but for being some­what like to Dalinea, but her, for her owne sake. He was not so struck with wonder when he first saw Vrania, (though with it he lost his liberty) as he was now wounded to death, loosing life if no compassion succeeded; this first sight wonne him, and lost his former Bondage, yet was he freed, [Page 103] but to take a new bond vpon him. He went towards her, who with a Ma­iesticke, yet gracious fashion met him, who saluted her thus. My fare lea­ding me (I hope for my greatest happinesse, I'm sure yet for my best con­tent, bringing me thus to behold your excellencies) f [...]om farre places, vn­looking for pleasures, am brought to the height of them most incompara­ble Lady, in comming thus into your presence, whereto I was emboldned by the loue I bare your Brother, by the curtesies of your seruants, the ho­nour your selfe granted me in licencing my approach: but most by my owne soule, which told me I must not passe without paying the tribute of my best seruice, to the Princesse of all women; for how would my con­science accuse me in such a neglect? How would my heart blame me for such an omission? But how might braue Leandrus chide Parselius, if hee yeelded not himselfe at the feete of his worthily admired Sister? Dalinea hearing him call himselfe Parselius, with a sweet and pleasing blush, desired pardon, that she had so farre forgot her selfe, as not to doe him suffici­ent reuerence; but yet a little blame your selfe, great Prince, said she, who vnknowne, and vndiscouering your selfe to any, you come among vs: par­don this rudenesse, and be pleas [...]d to accept my submissi [...]n for it; to deserue which fauour, I will striue in giuing you the best welcome to deserue it. He took her hand, a [...]d kissed it, which although she could in respect haue hin­dred, yet so delicate was his hand, as shee was content to let him hold and kisse hers. Then she brought him vnder the State, where two Chaires be­ing set, they passed away some time, discoursing of aduentures, and of the sweet content the Companion Princes enioyd in their youthes, shee infi­nitely delighting in those stories, especially when they touched on her bro­ther, whom entirely she loued.

Parselius finding which way her affection lead her, made his attend her, and all his stories, either beginning, or ending with the praise of Leandrus. Thus one pleas'd, and the other contented, that it was in him to content her; they passed some dayes loue creeping into the heart of Dalinea, as subtilly as if he meant to surprise, and not by open force take her: Discourse pro­cur'd conuersation, sweet conuersation, liking of it selfe; that liking, desire to continue it; that desire, louing it, and that the man that affoorded it: and thus farre come, I should wrong her if I should not say, shee yeelded in her heart to loue his person, whose discourse had made his way, by taking first her eares prisoners, now her eyes likewise execute their office, brings his excellent shape, his beauty, his absolute braue fashion: then her vnder­standing besets her, tells her how excellent his wit is, how great his valour, how matchlesse his worth, how great his descent, and royall possessions; all these, alas, ioynd, and made a curious, and crafty worke to compasse that, which loue himselfe without halfe, or any in comparison of these as­sistants, could haue made his subiect. But as the rarest Iewell is not to be had but at the highest rate: so her peerelesse perfections must haue all this businesse to gaine her; but now she is wonne, and he almost lost, not da­ring to thinke so, or ventring to winne it: He would with his eyes tell her his heart, with kissing her delicate hand, with a more then vsuall affection, let her feele his soule was hers: She found it, and vnderstood what hee would haue her vnderstand, nay, shee would answer his lookes with as amo­rous [Page 104] ones of her part, as straightly, and louingly would she hold his hand, but knowing modesty forbid, shee would sigh, and in her soule wish that he would once speake; but bashfulnesse with-held him, and woman mode­stie kept her silent; till one afternoone, walking i [...]to a most curious and dainty Garden, where all manner of sweets were ready in their kind to en­tertaine them; Flowers of all sorts for smell and colour; Trees of all kinds of fruits, and walkes diuided for most delight, many Birds singing, and with their notes welcomming them to that place: At last, a payre of innocent white Turtles came before them, in their fashion woing each other, and so wonne, enioying their gaine in billing, and such like pretty ioy.

Parselius taking aduantage on this, how blessed (said he) are these poore Birds in their owne imaginations, thus hauing one anothers loue! Tis true, said Dalinea, but more blessed are they, if the story bee true, that they neuer change. Hauing once, said he, made a perfect choice, none sure can after change. I neuer heard man accuse himselfe, said she, but rather when he had runne into that fault, finde something amisse in his former loue. I am sorry, replide the Prince, you haue so ill an opinion of men, since that I feare, will hinder you from honouring any with your loue. Why should you feare that answerd shee? Because (sigh'd hee) I would not haue such admirable Beauties vnaccompanied, but ioyn'd to a worthy associate. These must, said shee, for any thing I see remaine as they doe (if such as you say) long enough, before they wil be sought; feare (cryde he) makes men speech­lesse, and admiration hinders the declaring their affections. A poore lo­uer, said shee, such a one must be, who wants the heart of one such little Bird as this. I see most perfect Lady, said he, then, that this bashfulnesse is neither profitable nor commendable, wherefore I wil now, incouraged by your words, rather commit an error in honest plainnesse, then in fine Court­ship, and if it be an error, take this with it, it is not meant amisse, though it may bee rudely performed, as [...] what but rudenesse can come from a wandring Knight?

Not then to colour that which is most cleare, and perfect in it selfe, with fine and delicate Phrases, or to goe too farre about from the right way of discouering, giue me leaue, most excellent Princesse, to say, that so ex­celling was your power ouer me, when I first saw you, and so strongly hath continued the honour in keeping the conquest, as I am, and euer must bee your deuoted Seruant, my loue being wholly dedicated to you; and this I would faine long since haue said, but I feared your displeasure, nor had I now ventured, but that me thought you bid me bee bold, taking your dis­course wholly to my selfe. Then did you take it right, said shee, for I confesse; with that shee blush'd so prettily, and look'd so modestly amo­rous, as shee neede haue said no more, to make him know she lou'd him: Yet he couetous to haue the word spoken, taking her in his armes, be not so cruell my onely life said he, to barre me from the hearing of my blisse; Why then, said shee, I must confesse I loue you. Blessedn [...]sse to my soule cryd he, these words are now; my dearer selfe canst thou affect poore me? I honor your worth, and loue your selfe, said shee, but let your loue be ma­nifested to me in your vertuous carriage towards me. Vertue, said hee, made choice for me, then can she not abuse her selfe; and vertue in you made [Page 105] me most to loue you, then assure your selfe, that onely vertue shall gouerne me. Thus they louingly and chastly liu'd a while, only pleas'd with discourse; but that grew to leaue place to more enioying it selfe, being loath that any time should be spent without it, enuying the night that kept them so long ab­sent; to auoid which he so earnestly sued, and she so much lou'd, as she could not refuse, what hee desired for their equall contents: so as making two of her maides, and his Squire onely acquainted, one morning they stole out of the Castle by a back doore, which opened iust vpon the Mote, and hauing a bote there, wherein they vsed to row for pleasure, they cr [...]st the water, and so walked vnto an Hermitage hard by, where after they had heard Praye [...]s, the Hermit plaid the Priest and married them. With infinite ioy they re­turnd, to come to the height of their desires, where wee will [...]eaue them a lit­tle, and speake of Berlandis, Squire to Amphilanthus, who longing to see his Lord, and seeing little hope of getting Parselius thence, resolu [...]d to try how he might get him from that lazie life, and win him againe to follow Armes: but alas, this was as impossible, as it was for Vrania to belieue, that Parselius would forsake her. Many times he vrg'd him, many times he told him of aduentures, which himselfe and his Cosen had past, to thei [...] eternall fames; oft hee remembred him of the promises hee had made, and vowes which ought to bee performed: but these wrought nothing, vowes he remembred not, but this last holy one, which was most religiously to bee obserued: pro­mises hee had made, but those might stay till some other time, or till he had longer solaced himselfe in these new delights.

To conclude, Berlandis concluded to leaue him, and so telling; and taking his leaue of him, departed with this message to Amphilanthus, that he would in short time come vnto him; in the meane time, intreated to bee par­doned, since in his time hee had a little absented himselfe from him vp­on a like, though not so iust an occasion. Then hee charged Berlandis, not to let any know where hee had left him, except his owne Lord, and to intreate likewise his secrecie to all others to denie his finding of him.

Thus Parselius obscured himselfe for some time, while the fame of his Brother brauely fild the world, and had shind alone like the greatest light, had not one eclips'd it with his greater power, which was, and is, Incompa­rable Amphilanthus, who with his two companions left Romania, intending to goe to Morea, as I before said, hasting thither, as in pretence of the Albanian businesse. After they had taken ship, they came downe the Archipelago, and amongst those Islands staying at Sio for fresh water, and to take in some pas­sengers, left by that ship there, at her going to Constantinople; into the which Iland, the Knight of the Forrest would needes perswade the rest to en­ter, seeing it delightfull, and louing naturally to see nouelties, and ven­ture as farre, and oft-times as happilie as any: this motion was agree­able to Steriamus, whose heart yet faild him, for all Amphilanthus did warrant him to goe where his soule was Prisoner, for feare of offen­ding her, though so much hee loued, as if hee had been sure to see her, and with that sight to die instantly, rather then liue, and not see her, he would so haue suffered death. But Amphilanthus was loath to loose time, yet hee was contented to content his Friend, so as they [Page 106] passed vp a good way into the Iland themselues alone, without any other, not so much as their Squires with them: long they had not gone, before they met three fine young Maides, apparreld after the Greeke manner, car­rying each of them a basket, wherein were seuerall delicate fruites; the knight of the Forrest went to them, desiring to bee resolu'd of the manner of that place, and whether they could let them vnderstand any aduenture. The maides with much sweetnes, and modest fashion replied; They were but of meane Parentage, and not accustomed to such businesses, but (said they) this last night a braue Gentleman lay at our Fathers house, much complaining of the losse of a young Prince, called Dolorindus, Prince of Negropont, who lan­ded here, and since was neuer heard of; much hee seemd to doubt his dan­ger, and especially to feare Treason, the Lord of this Iland being indeed the most cruell, and treacherous man breathing; old, and yet so ill, as his white haires haue gaind that colour from black, since he practised villany, for these fortie yeares plotting nothing, but the destruction of braue Knights, and de­licate Ladies, of which hee hath store in his Castle, where in darke and vgly prisons he continues them, onely letting them haue light when he sends for them, and sports himselfe in their torments: and this proceedes from no o­ther cause, but out of a generall hate to all, where vertue liues, and beautie dwells. His wife of as sweet a condition, who is worne away to bare bones with meere hatefull fretting, to heare that any should liue inricht with good­nesse. From this paire are brought a forth couple of as hopefull branches, as can proceede from so good stocks; their parents ill, which they haue bin ma­ny yeares practised in to come to perfection, being fully flowing in them, so as they in this kind excell, hauing so many yeares fewer, and yet as much sinne in them, falshood, and all treason abounding, with ill nature in them: one of them being a Daughter, and the elder called Ramiletta, the most cun­ning, dissembling, flattering, false Creature that euer sweete ayre suffered to breath in, without corrupting it with her poysonous treasons; the other a Sonne vilde, craftie, and beyond measure luxurious.

These three are now gone a iourney, whither I cannot tell you, but sure­ly to some villanous purpose, brauely they are attended on, and richlie set forth, the old woman onely left behind with her practises to helpe if occasion serue, or by as much ill to rescue, if harme befall them. It was a glorious sight to see the braue furniture they had, delicate Hor­ses and gallant troopes of Knights to the number of fiftie, besides foure, who were the fiercest and strongest of this Country, vgly and fearefull to behold, being Brothers, and called the terrible, being of stature little lesse then Giants; and indeed such, as surely for being so much aboue or­dinarie stature were anciently termed so: a ioyfull sight this also was, for euery one reioyced so much at their going, as in great troopes the peo­ple followed them to the sea, heartily wishing neuer to see them returne any more.

Hath there been no newes of them since (said the Knight of Loue? None (answered the Maides), nor will be we hope. But are there any pri­soners remaining in his Castle (said he)? So the knight told my Father (said one of them) and wee are all certaine of it, if he put them not to death be­fore his going, which I the lesse thinke, because his wicked mate so much [Page 107] affects the like pleasure in torturing, as she holds them surely liuing of pur­pose to delight her selfe. Will you fauour vs with the guiding vs to the Castle said Amphilanthus? withall our hearts, said they, if we were sure to bring you safe backe againe, but fearing that, we rather desire pardon, then to bee the meanes of bringing hurt to such Gentlemen. Let the hazard of that lye on vs, said the Knights, and the content to this Countrey, especially to your selues, when you shall see it freed from such Tyranny.

Much adoe they had to perswade the Maides, to conduct them; yet at last, they preuaild, and altogether went to the house of the Traytor, by the way eating of those fruits they had in their Baskets: within fewe houres they arriu'd within sight of the Castle, and drawing neerer they saw two Gentlemen fighting on the Bridge, but presently they lost the sight of one being falne. Then another aduanc'd himselfe who by that time that they came neere enough, to descry any thing done on the Bridge, they saw like­wise betrayd by a false place in the Bridge, which they but comming on it strait opened, and as soone as they were fallen, shut againe; they of the house so well acquainted with it, as they easily auoided it.

They seeing this treason, hating deceit of any thing, stood conferring what they might doe to auoide this tricke, when as the man that comba­ted the other two, came vnto them, curteously intreating them into the house, if it pleased them to enter without blowes: or if they would trie their forces, as all yet had done, he was the man that first would waite vpon them in that exercise.

They assuring themselues no good could be in that creature, who had be­trai'd any, as curstly replied, as he had mildly (but craftily) spoken; telling him, that curtesie in Traytors must be as dangerous, as his kindnesse would proue, if they were so ignorant as to trust him, who they saw before their faces, had betraid two, who fought with him: wherefore they were resol­ued to be so farre from receiuing his complement, as they would make him bring them to the surest entring into the Castle; which if hee refused, they would cut off his head. With which words they laid hands on him, and that but done, when with a loud and terrible voyce, hee gaue notice to them within of his danger, which brought out many to his succour, that place neuer being without some alwaies arm'd. They rushed all on the Knights, who brauely behaued themselues, making quicke worke amongst them: but then came more, and such numbers, as with their freshnesse and companies, they put the Knights more to their skill, then in long time they had been: yet they whose hearts were filled with true worth and valour, would not thinke themselues in hazard, but stil confident of victory, pursued their Enemies to the Bridge, who seeing their want of strength to master the three, gaue backe of purpose to win them to their snare: but soone did they find their deceit, so as auoiding the bridge, they scapt the plot, and got the knowledge of it; for they fearefull, and some vnskild, runne vpon the false place, which opened, they falling in: and the three knights seeing the place opened, discouer'd the breadth to bee no more, then one might stride ouer, so as they brauely ventur'd leaping ouer it and entred the gate.

Presently was a great cry and noise in the Castle, all now that could beare Armes running vpon the knights; and so did they perplex them, as they [Page 108] forced them to take the benefite of putting their backs to a braue foun­taine, which was in the midst of a square Court wherein they were. This gaue them ease and safetie, being sure to haue no hurt, but what they saw; thus they fought till none were left that durst fight with them.

Then stood they a while to breathe, and rest them, when showers of arrowes came vpon them out of the windowes, and from the battle­ments; these vexed them more then any thing, not knowing what to doe against them, but onely couering themselues with their Sheilds, made them their defences, while they rested a little. But no sooner had they gained breath, but they ranne vp the stayres, and finding most of them women, yet cruell in that kind, and skilfull in shooting, they would not contend with them with their Swords, but running forcibly (in spite of their skill and continuall shots) within them, knowing no meanes to bee secure, the number being so great, were forced, for all their charita­ble mind, to begin at home with that vertue, and for their owne good to hurt them; which in this manner they did, throwing such as they could lay hands on out of the windowes, pursuing the rest, who running from them, yet still gall'd them with their arrowes, such was their nimblenesse and cun­ning, as they would shoote when they ran fastest. But at last they got the end of their trauell, with the end of them, most kill'd or brused with the fall, the rest throwing downe their bowes, and crauing mer­cie.

But now came they to the place, where the spring of all mischiefe sate, the Mistrisse of wickednesse, and that Castle, in such distresse, because they were not distressed; as malice and all vices mixt together, could hardly bee the figure of this woman: but what could shee doe? All cunning now faild her, though she began with humilitie, fawning and flattringly begging life, succeeding with cursings, reuilings and threatnings: but all prospered alike; for they taking her, commaunded her to bring them where the Prisoners were. When shee saw no craft would preuaile, shee cast her hatefull looks vpon them, and by an vnlucky chance espying a Dagger at Ollorandus back, stept to him hastily, drawing it out, and as suddenly being vnmarkt, strake Amphilanthus (who was then looking from herward, carelesse of her) vn­der his Armour, giuing him such a wound, as the bloud fell in great abun­dance from him: but soone was that well reuenged, if her life were answe­rable for such a mischance; yet did they keepe her aliue, till the Castle was setled, one drop of his bloud being more worth, then millions of liues of better people. Then she was terribly tortured, and yet kept long in paine for her more lasting punishment, and lastly burn'd.

By this were most dead or yeelded, all being safe, Amphilanthus was car­ried into a rich chamber, where his wound was searched and drest by the three Sisters, who were now come into the Castle, brought in by Steriamus of purpose to dresse the Prince. Ollorandus being so perplext that it was his vnlucky fate to haue the weapon, that hurt his friend, as he was truly sorrow it selfe, euen being ready with it to haue parted his owne life from him, had not Amphilanthus coniured him by all loues, and friendships, and pro­testations to forbeare.

[Page 109]Quickly did the Sisters assure them of his safety, which as a blessing came vnto them. After he was dress'd he sent his friend to fetch the Prisoners all before him, which was done, where were of Knights and Ladies such store, as (if in health and strength) there had beene a fit number for the fur­nishing a braue Court, but as they were, it was a sight of commiseration, so pale, and weake they were with want of foode, and their bodies so abused with tortures, as they appeard like people of purpose made to shew miserie in extremitie. Among them was Dolorindus, whose owne minde, and this vsage, had brought him into a fit estate to answer his name. Amphilanthus knowing him, first tooke care of him, calling for his owne apparell which was brought, and causing delica [...]e foode to bee brought him, cheerished him so, as by that time that he was able to trauell for his wound, Dolorin­dus was likewise fit to accompany him, which in few daies came to passe by the diligence and care of the three Sisters, who were next in true succes­sion by the Mothers side, to the ancient Lords of Si [...]: their Father came vnto them with the Squires, to the Princes, and those of the Ship. Then prepared they for their departure, Amphilanthus bestowing the Castle and the Island vpon the Sisters, his kinde Chyrurgions, promising to send his faithfull and best esteemed seruant Berlandis to marry the eldest, as soone as he could finde him, and on the other two, Steriamus and Ollorandus be­stowed their Squires, giuing them the Order of Knighthood, who well deseru'd it, prouing worthy of such Masters, making the world see, that such example as dayly their Master shewd them, must needs make braue men leauing that place in quiet, hauing taken the oathes of all the Inhabitants in Berlandis name, and his wiues. Then tooke they Ship againe for Morea, but passing along the AEgaean Sea, they entred many Islands, seeking and finding aduentures, but in one, being (though little) yet plentifull, as a grea­ter, delicately compassed with Snow white Rocks, yet mixt with small fine trees, whose greenenesse gaue them hope to see, but pleasure gaue them heart to goe into it; when they found it within such a place, as a Louer would haue chosen to haue passed his time in, and this did vrge the foure Knights all amorous, and yet in seuerall kindes to expresse their passions se­uerall waies.

Amphilanthus left the other three, taking the direct way to the heart of the Land, as euer ayming at that place, hauing the best, and most power con­tinually ouer that part. Steriamus tooke on the right hand; Ollorandus to the left, but Dolorindus who neuer knew difference of fortune (still hauing li­ued in a constant state of her displeasure) went away betweene them all, his thoughts (as euer in action) better being able to vtter forth his passions be­ing alone, which in this kinde he did: when he came into a dainty fine wood of straight high Oakes, and young Beeches, mingled with a fewe Ashes, and Chestnut trees; in the mid [...]st of the Wood was a Mount cast vp by nature, and more delicate then Art could haue fram [...]d it, though the cunningest had vndertaken it, in the mid'st of it was a round Table of stone, and round a­bout it Seats made of the same Stone, which was blacke Marble, some Let­ters, or rather characters he found ingrauen in the vpper part of those seates, and on many of the Trees, which curiously incompassed it; & many Ciphers, althougth but one for meaning, though in number many; Louers had done [Page 110] these as he thought; louers made him remember he was one, and that oft he had caru'd his Mistrisses name vpon Bay trees, to shew her conquest, which shee had requited, cutting his name in Willowes, to demonstrate his fate. This afflicted him, and moued so much in him, as hee could not but frame some verses in his imagination, which after were giuen to Amphilanthus, and his other companions; the lines were these, place and fortune procuring them.

When he had made this, and committed them to that keeper, who yet would not be perswaded to set him at liberty, but continued the more to molest him, like a soare that one beates to cure, yet smarts the more for beating. So did Memory abide with him: Then walk'd hee on to meete his friends, who were all in their kinds as much perplex'd as him [...]elfe. Amphilanthus alone, and so the abler to be bold in speech, began thus, walking (with his armes folded, louingly for loue, one within the other) along a sweet Riuer. Vnhappy man, sigh'd he, that liues to bee vexed with the same that once most delighted thee; who could haue thought in­constancy a waight, if not to presse me on to more delight? Le [...] I till now a­ny wherein change brought not vnspeakable content? When I tooke An­tissia, thought I not I was happy in the change? When I before had alte­red from and to that loue, did it not bring a full consent of blisse? But now that I haue changed, and for, and to the best, alas, how am I troubled? How afflicted? How perplexed? Constancie I see, is the onely perfect vertue, and the contrary, the truest fault, which like sinnes, intices one still on, of purpose to leaue one in the height: as the height of enioying makes one leaue the loue to it. I haue offended, all you powers of loue pardon me, and if there be any one among you, that hath the rule of truth, gouerne mee, di­rect [Page 112] me, and hencefoorth assure your selfe of my faith, and true subiection, error makes me perfect, and shewes me the light of vnderstanding. But what talke I of truth? Why commend I faith when I am vncertaine, whether these will winne? She alas, shee doth loue, and woe is mee, my hope's in this quite lost, shee loues, and so I see my end; yet neuer shall that come without a noble conclusion, and that, her eyes and eares shall witnesse with my losse. Dearest once pitty, my sad lookes, shall tell thee I doe loue, my sighes shall make thee heare my paines, my eyes shall let thee see (if thou wilt but see mee) that onely thy sight is their comfort; for when from thee they stirre, they must finde a new seat to turne in, and a head to dwell in, and so now they haue, for nothing see they but thy delicacy, nothing viewe but thy perfections, turne from all to thee, and onely turne vnto thee; My soule hath also eyes to see thy worth, Loue hath now fram'd me wholly to thy Lawes, command then, heere I breath but to thy loue, from which, when I doe swarue, let me loue vnrequited; but dearest be thou kinde, and then haue I all blisse. Why shouldest not thou leaue one, since for thee Ile leaue all? Be once vnconstant to saue me as 'twere from death, who for it will be true, I vow, and this vow still will keepe, that onely thou art wor­thy and alone will I loue thee.

Then casting vp his eyes, he saw before him a rare meadow, and in the midst of it a little Arbour, as he so farre off tooke it to bee, but drawing neerer he found a delicate Fountaine cricled about with Orenge, and Pom­granet trees, the ground vnder them all hard sand, about the Fountaine (as next adioyning) was a hedge of Iesamnis mingled with Roses and Wood­bines, and within that, paued with pauements of diuers colours, plac'd for shew and pleasure; on the steps he sate downe beholding the worke of the Fountaine which was most curious, being a faire Maide as it were, thinking to lade it drie, but still the water came as fast, as it past ouer the dish she seemd to lade withall: and iust thus said hee, are my labours fruitlesse, my woes increasing faster then my paines find ease. Then hauing enough, as hee thought, giuen liberty to his speech, he put the rest of his thought into ex­cellent verse, making such excelling ones, as none could any more imitate or match them, then equall his valour: so exquisite was he in all true ver­tues, and skill in Poetry, a quallitie among the best much prized and estee­med, Princes brought vp in that, next to the vse of Armes. When he had finished them, he sate a while still, then looking on the Fountaine, he said, Deare hopes spring as this water, flow to inioying like this streame, but wast not till my life doth wast in me; nay dye, runne to my Loue, and tell her what I feele; Say, and say boldly, till I knew her selfe I was but ignorant, and now doe know, that only she, and she alone, can saue or ruin [...] me.

Many more, and far more excellent discourses, had he with himselfe, and such as I am altogether vnable to set down, therfore leaue them to be gues­sed at by those who are able to comprehend his worth, and vnderstanding; such may expresse his passions, all else admire, and admiringl [...] [...]steeme so in­comparable a Prince, who for a little while continued [...]hus, but then leauing the Fountaine he went strait on, and followed on his way till he came vnto a Hill, the sides appearing rocky, the topp hee might discerne greene, and some trees vpon it; he by little and little climb'd to the topp, where in [Page 113] the middle of it he saw a hole, and looking in at that hole perceiu'd fire a pretty way below it, and that fire as if it were stir'd by some hands, where­upon hee concluded, that this was some poore abode of some miserable people, either made so by want or misfortune, which likewise might bee want, that being the greatest misery.

Round abo [...]t the top hee sought, but at last thought with himselfe, that there was no way to see the Inhabitants but by some way in the side of this Rocke, wherefore he went downe againe, and halfe about the Hill, when he found a little doore of stone, the euen proportion of the opening making him knowe it to be so, else nothing could haue disordered it, so close it was, appearing but like chinkes or clifts. He pull'd at it, but it would not stirre; then he knock'd, when straight a little window was opened, and out of it an vgly old Dwarfe looked, whose face was as wrinkled as the rocke, his complexion Sand-colour without so much red as to make a dif­ference 'twixt his lips, and face; his haire had beene blacke, but now was growne grisled, yet still kept the naturall stubbornnesse of it being but thin, and those few haires desirous to be seene stood staring, neither were they of any equall length, but like a horses maine, new taken from grasse, which by the wantonnesse of some of his companions had beene bit, and natch'd in diuers places. Beard he had none, to distinguish his sexe, his habits being forc'd to speake for him to that purpose; onely a wart he had on his right cheeke, which liberally bestowed some haire according to the substance, for the sight of such as saw him. He was not onely a Dwarfe but the least of those creatures, and in some sort the ill-fauoured'st; this youth seeing Am­philanthus, straight cryd, alas wee are betray'd, for heere is an armed man that will assuredly destroy vs.

The Prince promised on his word, he, nor any there should haue the lest harme, if he would let him but come in vnto him; the olde Dwarfe scarse knew how to trust, hauing before beene in his trust deceiu'd, wherefore he desired first to know who he was that gaue his word. The King answered, I am called, and knowne by the name of the Knight of Loue, but mine owne name, said he, is Amphilanthus. Praysed be heauen, said he, that you are landed here, for alas my Lord, I am your Subiect, miserably perplexed, by a cruell and tyranicall man, Lord of the Island of Strombolli, and who hath vndone me, and my children; then leap'd he from the window, and ope­ned the dore which was made fast with many bolts of yron: the doore open the King went in, though with some difficulty at the entring, by rea­son the place was low, & fitter for such a man as the Host, then the Romanian King. In the roome he found a woman, in height and louelinesse answera­ble to the man, and three younger men then himselfe, but all of his propor­tion, who seem'd to be his Sonnes. Then did Amphilanthus desire to know the cause of his complayning against the Lord of Strombolli, which the old Dwarfe began to relate in this manner.

May it please you, great Prince, to vnderstand, I am called Nainio borne in Strombolli to pretty possessions, the which I enioyed some yeares after my Fathers decease, but the Lord of the Iland, (or better to say, the Gouernor) passing that way, and seeing my liuing pleasant and delightfull, groues of O­range, and Lemmon Trees, all other fruites plentif [...]lly yeelding themselues [Page 114] for our vses, grew in loue with the place, and in hate with me; first, hee pe­remptorily commanded mee to bring my wife, and these tall men my sonnes, to attend him, his wife and children. I that was borne free would not bee made a slaue; wherefore (I must confesse vnaduisedly) I gaue too rough an answere, that bred dislike, and gaue iust occasion against mee. Then sent hee for mee, made mee a scorne in the eyes of all men, and when hee had gloried enough in my miserie, scoffing at my shape and sta­ture, saying, I would make a fit Commander against the Infidels, hee put mee, and my family into a little boate, and when shipping went for Greece, sent mee along with them: but such kindnesse I found among them, as they indeede carried mee, but brought mee backe againe; this was discouered, whereupon I was to die: but my pardon was got by the Lady, wife to the Lord, a vertuous and sweet Lady, on condition if euer I were found in Str [...]mbolli, or any part of Italy, I should die for it. Then went I away, and with the first mentioned Saylers got into this sea, and so vnto this Iland, where I haue remaind but in continuall feare; for considering the danger I was in for my life, it so with the memorie frights mee, as I had ra­ther haue steru'd here, then gone hence for feare of harme, euerie one that I heare or see in this place being as a Sprite vnto mee, and so did you appeare, till you told me who you were, so much doe I yet stand in awe of the cruell Iland Lord.

The King smil'd to heare his discourse, but most to see his action, which was so timerous and affrighted, as neuer any man beheld the like; and as did, so did his Sons, like Munkeys, who imitating one another answer in ge­stures as aptly and redily as one Ecco to another, and as like, and so the sport was doubled. Great delight did hee take in these little men; wherefore gently and mildly hee gaind so much of them, as they would with him leaue that place, conditionally that hee would not carry them into Italy, where they more feared their first enemie, then trusted to the power of the King, such a Lord is coward feare ouer base minds, as vnderstanding gaines small place in their hearts, as by this appeared, else might they haue been assured in his company in Strombolli it selfe.

But consents agreeing on both sides, they went out of the rocke to meete the other Princes, the Dwarfes quaking at euery leafe that shook, and fainted when they heard the Armour a little clash in his going; but directly they lost life for a while, when they met the other Knights, not being able to belieue they were their Lords friends. But after they grew more valiant, like a coward, who against his mind being brought into the middle of a bat­taile, can neither runne, nor his cries bee heard, and therefore of force must abide that hell torment: So were these brought to it by sight of fights, when death could only haue relieued them from feare.

Amphilanthus following on, came to a great Caue, into which hee went, putting the Dwarfes before him; a great way they passed into it till hee came to a Riuer, which either was blacke, or the darkenesse of that shadowed place made appeare so: the vault was of height sufficient for him without trouble to walke in, and of breadth for three to goe a front, paued and couered round with free stone, when he came to the Riuer [Page 115] he desired to passe it, but at first saw no meanes; at last he discouerd (or feare in his Dwarfes discouerd for him, they being able to discerne, hauing been long in the darke, which though at first it blindes like Loue, yet it giues at last fight to get out of it); so they found a board, which was fastned with chaines to the top of the Vault, and two pines of yron that held the chaines, being stuck into the wall; those being pulled out, the chaines let the Planke fall gently downe, iust crosse ouer the water, which was not aboue six yards ouer, but being on it, they might see a great way vp and downe the streame. Then passed they on to a doore which they opened, a pretie way along the same vault from the brook, and the end of it, thorow which they entred into a dainty Garden, and so into a faire Pallace of Alabaster, incompassed with Hilles, or rather Mountaines, of such height, as no way was possible to bee found to come at it, but thorow the same vault the King came. Diuers Gar­dens and Orchards did surround this pallace: in euery one was a fountaine, and euery fountaine rich in art, and plentifully furnished with the vertue of liberalitie, freely bestowing water in abundance.

These places hee past, staying in a large stone Gallerie, set vpon pillers of the same stone; there hee sat downe, complaining still of his Mistrisse, whose heart was stored with paine and loue, equally oppressing her. O (cride he) my dearest loue, the sweetest cruell that euer Nature fram'd, how haue I mi­serable man offended thee? that not so much as a looke or shew of pity will proceede from thee to comfort mee: are all thy fauours lockt vp, and onely sad countenances allotted mee? Alas, consider women were made to loue, and not to kill; yet you will destroy with cruell force, while I changed to a tender creature, sit weeping and mourning for thy crueltie, which yet I can hardly terme so, since thou knowest not my paine.

Further hee would haue proceeded, when a doore opened into that roome, and out of it came a graue Ladie, apparreld in a black habit, and many more young women attending her; shee straight went to him, salu­ting him thus. Braue King, welcome to this place, being the abiding of your friend, and seruant. Hee looking vpon her, perceiued wisdome, mo­destie, and goodnesse figured in her face; wherefore with a kind acceptance hee receiued this salutation, desiring to bee informed of the place, but most to know how he came knowne to her.

Sir (said shee) my name is Mellissea, and hauing skill in the Art of Astro­logie, I haue found much concerning you, and as much desire to doe you seruice. Can you find good Madam (said hee), whether I shall bee happie in my loue, or not? In loue my Lord (said shee) you shall bee most happy, for all shall loue you that you wish: but yet you must bee crost in this you now affect, though contrarie to her heart.

But shall I not enioy her then? miserable fortune, take all loues from me, so I may haue hers. Shee loues you (said Mellissea), and it will prooue your fault if you lose her, which I thinke, you will and must; to preuent which, if possible, beware of a treacherous seruant. For this place, it is that ancient­ly reuerenced, and honoured Iland of Delos, famous for the birth of those two great lights, Apollo and Diana; the ruines of Apollo's and Latona's Tem­ples remaining to this day on the other side of that mountaine, called Cyn­thus; once rich and populous, now poore and peoplelesse, none or very few [Page 116] inhabiting here, besides this my family; the sharpe and cruell rockes which girdle this Iland, guarding it selfe and vs from dangerous robbings. But must I loose my Loue (said Amphilanthus)? Accursed fate that so should happen. I yet doe hope, if I may be assured shee loues mee, this will neuer bee.

Well my Lord (said shee) to let you see, that hope is too poore a thing in comparison of truth to trust to, I wil giue you these tokens, to make you truly see my words are true; you haue lately had a wound by a woman, but this a greater and more dangerous you must suffer, which will indanger your life farre more then that last did; yet shall the cause proceede from your owne rashnesse, which you shall repent when 'tis too late, and when time is past, know, the meanes might haue preuented it: but to doe what I may for your good, I aduise you to this; alter your determination for your iourney to Morea, and in stead of it, goe straight to Ciprus, where you must finish an Inchantment, and at your returne come hither, and with you bring that company that you release there, then shall I bee more able to aduise you, for this doth yet darken some part of my knowledge of you.

Hee remaind much perplext with those words; yet as well as such afflicti­on would permit him, hee made shew of patience. Then did Mellissea send one of her Maides to bring his companions to him, hoping their sights, and the discourse of their fortunes would a little remoue his melancholie from him: in the meane time hee with crossed armes walkt vp and downe the Gallerie, musing in himselfe, how hee should so farre and deadlily fall out with himselfe, as to be the cause of his owne miserie, not being able, though hee had the best vnderstanding, to reach into this misterie. Sometimes the Lady discoursed to him, and he for ciuilitie did answere her; yet oft-times she was content to attend his owne leisure for his replie, so much power had his passions ouer him.

Thus hee remaind molested, while Steriamus following his right hand way, was brought into a fine plaine, and thence to the foote of a mountaine, where hee found rich pillers of Marble, and many more signes of some mag­nificent building, which sight wrought pitie in him, remembring how glo­rious they seem'd to haue been, now throwne downe to ruine; And so (said hee) was my fortune faire, and braue in shew, but now cast low to despaire and losse. O Pamphilia, Goddesse of my soule, accept mee yet at last, if not for thy seruant, yet for thy Priest, and on the Altar of thy scorne will I dai­ly offer vp the sacrifice of true and spotlesse loue: my heart shall bee the of­fering, my teares the water, my miserable body the Temple, and thy hate and cruellest disdaine, the enemy that layes it waste. Once yet consider, grea­test beautie, mightiest riches, sumptuousest buildings, all haue some end; brightest glory cannot euer dure; and as of goodnesse, must not ill haue so? grant this, and then thy rage must needs conclude.

Yet thus, did not his paine find conclusion, but a little further hee went a­mong those ruines, where hee laid himselfe not downe, but threw him­selfe among those poore and destroyed reliques of the rarest Temples, where hard by hee heard Ollorandus likewise complaining. My Melasinda (said hee) how iustly maist thou blame thy Ollorandus, who still trauels further from thee, who stroue to bring thy loue still neerest to him? [Page 117] Canst thou imagine thy immaculate affection well bestowed, when so great neglect requiteth it? Wilt thou, or maist thou thinke the treasure of thy loue, and richest gift of it well bestowed, when absence is the paiment to it? If against mee and these thou do'st but iustly except, yet what doth hold thee from killing that slaue, and setting thy deare soule at libertie? No, thy vertues will not like a murderer, it must bee as it is, Destiny must onely worke, and despairing sorrow tyre it selfe in me. Steriamus wanting pitie, knew the misse, and therefore would bee as charitable as hee could: to shew which goodnesse, he rose, and went to Ollorandus to put him from his mour­ning, who was then againe entring into his waylings, telling him, they were too long from Amphilanthus. As hee start vp, behold Dolorindus, who came sadly towards them, whom they called to them, and so together went from that place, meaning to ascend the mountaine: but then came the seruant of Mellissea to them, intreating their companies from her Mistrisse to the Pal­lace, where they should meete their companion. They soone consented to that inuitation; whither being come, they told all their aduentures one to another; then were they brought into a faire roome, where after they had eaten, Mellissea againe thus spake.

My Lords, the time calls vpon you, occasions being such, as your pre­sences are required in seuerall places: wherefore first to you my Lord Ste­riamus I must say, you must haste hence, and as you desire your owne happie ends in loue, obserue what I aduise you. Goe from hence into Arcadia, feare not, for nothing shall encounter you of harme. Dolo­rindus, doe you the like, for much is your being there requisite: from thence goe to Saint Maura, and in a rocke which lies iust against it to­wards Cephalonia, priuately remaine till fortune call you thence by helpe, which shall appeare death; this may seeme hard and terrible, but feare it not, since it shall bring your happinesse; then goe into Greece againe, and helpe your friends, and your selfe in the Conquest of Albania. They tooke her hand, and kist it, on it swearing to obey her Coun­sell. Amphilanthus was sorry for his vow, especially that his iourney was staid to Morea: but hee made the cause of his griefe, for parting with his friends.

Then to Ollorandus shee thus spake: The good that shall come to you must proceede from this braue King, who shall giue vnto you both securitie of life, and your onely loue: life hee shall venture for you, and saue yours by the hazard of himselfe: keepe then together, and still be your loues firme and constant, assisting one another; for a time will bee, when you shall merit this from Amphilanthus, giuing him as great a gift. And credit what I say; for it is as true, as by my meanes you receiued the Armour in the Forrest, when you were fast sleeping, it be­ing laid by you, from which you haue taken the name of Knight of the For­rest. For you my Lord, thinke not but I am as carefull, or more of you then any, though I haue left you last; for as yet I can say little: but feare nothing except what I haue already warnd you of; my Art shall attend you, and I neuer faile to serue you, make haste then to Cyprus, and be carefull. Then all promising to performe her will, with teares in their eyes they tooke leaue of each other.

[Page 118] Steriamus and Dolorindus demanding what seruice Amphilanthus would com­mand them. He answered, They should honor him much in remembring him to the King and Queene, to whom by Steriamus hee sent the olde Dwarfes, and the youngest Sonne called after his Fathers name, hee de­sired Dolorindus to present to Pamphilia from him.

Thus they parted, and Amphilanthus, Ollorandus, and the other two dwarfes who seru'd them for Squires, tooke their way for Cyprus. Quicke was the iourney of the other two, arriuing in Laconia, and so hasting to Mantinea, where then the King was; but being neere, Steriamus began to faint, fea­ring the sight of her, he most desired to see, yet incouraged by Dolorin­dus to performe what he had ingaged his word to doe, they went on, com­ming to the Court, when the King, and all the Princes were assembled to iudge the Traytors. But Steriamus whose same was now farre spread for his noble Acts at Constantinople, and diuers others, was soone knowne in the Hall, and as soone with great ioy brought before the King, to whom he deliuered the Present, and seruice of Amphilanthus.

The King infinitly reioyced to heare of his braue friend, and taking the Dwarfe (the Queene with as much loue accepting the other) desired be­fore they passed to the Iudgement to heare of their aduentures. Then did Steriamus openly relate all, that had happened him after his depart, vntill their comming thither, in so good words and Princely a maner, as all ad­mired, and loued him; especially, for doing it with such affection, and truth, to the eternall renowne of incomparable Amphilanthus. Then presented he Dolorindus to the King, whose name and presence was welcome to at that time; especially, assuring himselfe now to haue an end and true knowledge of the Traytours, who were lead (at their comming in) aside, so as they neither sawe them, nor heard the relation of the aduenture at Sio, which was extreame strange, and wondred at by all, the more the cause of admiration was, the more still increased their honours that atcheiued it. Then went the Princes to Pamphilia, who much commended Steriamus for his discourse, kindly of Dolorindus, accepting the Dwarfe, promising to loue him for his Lords sake: then were all placed againe, Rosindy taking Ste­riamus, and setting him betweene him and his friend Selarinus, who was true ioy it selfe to see Steriamus againe, the traytors then entr [...]d, to whom the King thus spake.

Without any more falshood, truly declare vnto me who you are, and your true names, for those you tooke vpon you, I know are false: then discouer the cause of taking my daughter, deale truly, if any pitie be expected by you, to be shewed vnto you. The old man curstly replied, Hee wondred a King should haue so ill a conceit of another of his owne ranke, as to thinke fals­hood could be in a royall breast, and more did he admire that the King of Morea who before had beene counted iust, would offer that iniustice to the King of Negropont, who hauing beene ill vsed by an vngratefull Childe, and comming thither for succour should be made a Prisoner like a Trai­tor, and vsed like theeues.

Then answered the King, behold my Lords before you the vildest of men, and falsest of Traitors; to proue which Dolorindus stand forth and wit­nesse against him; Dolorindus indeed came foorth, the Traytor seeing him, [Page 119] straight too well knew him; wherefore roring out hee cryed, I am vndone, for now all is betray'd. Then did Dolorindus againe tell the manner of his trecherous taking, and imprisoning him, and withall the winning, and de­stroying of the Castle, and his seruants; the burning of his wicked wife, and the bestowing of the Island vpon Berlandis, and the other two their Squires, whom they had matched to the three Sisters. These creatures be­ing past helpe to be saued, fell downe on their faces, confessing the truth, which was this.

The Sonne to this wicked man seeing the picture of Pamphilia, which was sent some two yeeres before by Pamphilia to her Vncle, but taken away by Pirats who after landed at Sio, and among other things sold that. He fell in loue with it, and so longed to enioy her, as nothing but death appear'd in him; which the deuill his Father perceiuing, plotted all waies hee could; to which end, he inuented that false Bridge, hoping to get some of her bro­thers or friends, if not, some that might bring them meanes to finde a tricke to gaine her.

Tenn monethes this continued, then came the poore Dolorindus, who by Treason they got, and hauing heard his Story, which almost was the same he told for himselfe, onely this differing, that the Kingdome was not giuen by affection to the daughter, but by right, as being a gift giuen by the Grand­father to his Daughter, and her first borne, which happened to be a Daugh­ter, and so shee elder, put Dolorindus by. The rest was true of her ill deser­uing, but the Father righted by his Sonne, by a Combate against two migh­tie men was deliuered from prison, she put downe from gouenment and committed to his Prison, where shortly after she died.

This Story the wicked man made his owne, and his Sonne tooke the name of braue Dolorindus, forging the rest, and making that deceitfull Cha­riot of purpose to betray the Princesse whom they purposed to haue carri­ed with them to Sio, and to keepe her by that Treason against all, at least the amorous Louer should haue had his desire.

This being confess'd, and hee no Prince, but an vsurping Lord of other mens rights, and a Kings, and Princes honour, they were all condemn'd and executed according to the Archadian Law. Now is the time of Steriamus de­parting come, and also for Dolorindus who taking their leaues of the King, and Court, promised Rosindy, and Selarinus to meete them soone after in Macedon; kissing Pamphilia's hand once more to blesse his lips with the last affectionate kisse, hee can euer haue from her, or giue to her, hee departed with his friend towards Snt. Maura, perplexed in soule, loue working more terribly, now then euer, like that killing disease which parts not but with life: and so was this sicknesse come now to the height in him. A little lesse case felt Antissia, who now must soone leaue Morea; the Abmassadour re­couered of his hurts, and others chosen to goe in Commission with him concerning the forces, being the two braue Princes of Corinth, and Elis, Brother to the proud louer of Parselius, who hee met as you haue heard. More honourably Antissia could not be accompanied, and since shee must goe, 'twas thought fit she went with them.

The day before she was to goe, not hauing all night taken any rest, she rose earlyer then shee was accustomed, and sooner then any was stirring [Page 120] shee came into Pamphilia's Chamber, who she found sweetly sleeping, but drawing the curtaine she awaked, and seeing her, wondred what occasion had call'd her vp so soone, and at that houre to bee dress'd, wherefore shee said, why, what disturbance, sweet Antissia, hath thus rais'd you? What dis­quiets molested you? Can your thoughts affoord you no more rest? Or, is it ioy for your departure, makes you thus early, and takes away that dull hu­mour of sleepe from your spirits? Ioy to part? O me, reply'd she weeping. No Pamphilia, my heart doth breake to thinke of it, my soule is tortur'd so, as it enioyes no peace for griefes additions.

The losse of your company is much more to mee, said the Princesse; for you gone, who shall I haue the blessing to conuerse withall? With whom, or to whom may I freely say my minde? To whom speake my paine? To whom waile my misfortunes? Thus is the losse most in me; for you goe to your Nephew, where you soone will see your loue, while I lamenting, spend my time I am to tarry here; which since you goe will seeme ages to mee.

Why will you be thus cruell, most sweet Pamphilia said shee, to add vnto my torments, by the expression of your fauour to me? I shall goe 'tis true, to my Nephew, rather to content him then my self, since what wil his Court be to mee, when I shall bee in the Dungeon of Despaire? For seeing my Loue, much hope I haue, when he fauours me not so much, as by these Prin­ces to send one poore remembrance, to let me know hee thinkes on such a soule; a soule indeede, wonne, and loft by him, who now despises the me­mory of her, who disdained not to loue, and serue him, and who I know, suffers in honor for him: but let her suffer, and be he as vngratefull as he will, I yet must loue so much as to lament his losse. But me thought you touch'd euen now of parting, whither, rare Lady, will you goe? Or what quarell haue you to poore Morea, to leaue it desolate, as so it must be when you forsake it? I shall leaue it but for a while, said she, and then it will be freer, and safer from afflictions, when the most afflicted shall bee absent from it. Goe I must with mine Vncle, to be seene to the Pamphilians, and acknow­ledged their Princesse; which Countrey my Vncle in his youth (being as braue and valiant a man as euer breathed) wonne from the subiection of Tyrants; in requitall whereof the people chose him their King, their loue being then so great, and still continuing, as they haue giuen him leaue to choose his Successor, which by reason he neuer marryed, had else falne to them againe for choice. He long since chose me, and to that end gaue mee that name: but hee growing old, or rather weake, and they desirous to know me, gain'd of him to make this voyage for me, with whom I doe returne speedily, and now reioyce in the soone comming of it, since you and I must part.

O name not that word, great Princesse, sigh'd shee, but rather spend this little time in such content as our hearts can permit vs, disposing these houres to a more pleasing purpose, pray therefore rise, and goe into the solitary wood, where we may vnheard, and vnperceiu'd, better discourse our woes, saddly, and freely complaining. I will euer yeeld vnto your desires, said Pamphilia: then goe you before, and I shall soone follow you. Antissia left her, taking the way to the Walkes. Pamphilia got vp, and as shee was [Page 121] making her ready, her passionate breast scarce allowing her any respite from her passions, brought these Verses to her mind, wherein shee then imprinted them.

Being ready, she went into the Garden Woods, where shee saw Antissia sadly walking, her eyes on the earth, her sighes breathing like a sweet gale claiming pitie from aboue, for the earth she said would yeeld her none, yet she besought that too, and at last passion procured alteration from mourning, she began to sing a Song, or rather part of one, which was thus.

Assuredly more there was of this Song, or else she had with her vnframed and vnfashioned thoughts, as vnfashionably framd these lines. But then Pamphilia came to her, saying; Sweete Antissia, leaue these dolorous com­plaints, when wee are parted, let o [...] hearts bleed teares: but let vs not de­priue our selues of this little comfort [...] at least, let vs flatter our selues, and thinke wee now feele some; and when absence makes vs know the contrary, then mourne. Alas (said Antissia) I foresee my harme, my Spirit tells mee once being gone, gone will my ioyes bee altogether: sadnesse will presage any thing (said Pamphilia), especially where that may procure more sadnesse; melancholy, the nurse of such passions being glad, when her authoritie is esteemd, and yeelded to: and so much hath it wrought in me, as I haue many houres sate looking on the fire, in it making as many sad bodies, as children, do varietie of faces, being pleased, or displeased, or as mine owne fancies haue felt paines, and all this was but melancholy, and truely that is enough to spoile any, so strangely it growes vpon one, and so pleasing is the snare, as till it hath ruind one, no fault is found with it, but like death, embraced by the ancient braue men, like honour and delight. This I haue found and smarted with it; leaue it then, and nip it in the bud, lest it blow to ouerthrow your life and happinesse, for my sake bee a little more chearefull, and I will promise you, when you are gone, I will as much bewaile absence.

Antissia tooke her hand, and though against her will kissed it, saying; Ad­mired Princesse, let your poore vnfortunate friend and seruant, bee in ab­sence but sometimes remembred, with a wish to see her with you, and that will bring an vnspeakable content to that distressed creature, on whom for­tune tries her curstest power in despitefull rage, and cruelty. Doubt not me more deare Antissia (said shee), for those wishes shall bee, and attended with others for your happinesse, then distrust not me for Pamphilia must bee iust.

Thus in kind discourse they continued, promising to each other, what was in loue demaunded to demonstrate their affections, till it was time to retire. Little meate that Dinner serued them, whose hearts had filled their Stomacks with loue and sorrow: after Dinner, going againe to that [Page 123] sad place that night being the last, lying together, and with sad, but louing discourse passing those darke houres day being loath to see Antisius teares, but greiu'd, and afraid to see Pamphilia weepe, did hide her face till the Sunne greedy of so pretious, and sweete a dew looking red, with hast came into the roome, where they blushingly ashamed so to bee surprized, put on their clothes, not to be in danger of his heate.

No sooner were they ready, but Antissia was call'd for, who the sweetest Lady accompanied to her Coatch with maine teares, and sad, because part­ing kisse, taking leaue of each other, Antissia by her sorrow foretelling her comming, or indeed but shewing her already befallen losse, Pamphilia was sorry for her going, because she was now assured of her loue: the Court did in generall lament, such loue and respect she had gain'd by her courteous and sweete behauiour, many wishing her married to Parselius, that so they might still keepe her with them, so many well wishes she had, as surely made her iourney more prosperous, for safety; and speedily (considering the way) shee arriued at Constantinople, being louingly, and kindly entertayned by the King, and affectionatly by her Vncle, whose ioy was greatest knowing what hazard she had suffer'd, ayming now at nothing more then how to get the braue Leandrus to performe what before was determined betweene their Parents.

She gone, preparation was made for the iourney of Pamphilia, rich Cha­riots, Coaches, furniture for Horses, and all other necessary things that could bee demanded for seruice, or state; the Liueries for her seruants be­ing of the same colours the Cha [...]ots, and other furnitures were, and them all of her owne chosen colurs, which were Watchet and Crimson, as the Chariots were Watchet, embroydred with Crimson and purle of Sil­uer, one with Pearle, all the rest alike. The King and Queene did accompany her to the sea-side, al the other Princes bringing her aboord, and there kissing her hands.

Thus away she went sailing with gentle and pleasant wind, till the Pilate told the king, that a great fleet followed them, by their colors, and the shapes of the ships, shewing they were Italians. Wherefore they not knowing the businesse prepared for the worst; when they perceiued out of the greatest and fairest of these ships, Knights vnarmd, and Ladies armd with beauty, able to conquer worlds of hearts, to issue, and enter a delicate Galley, which straight made way by oares towards them.

The King seeing it, and Pamphilia being aboue any Princesse courteous, commanded their ship to strike saile, least harme might befall them in their comming aboord. Straight came they into the ship, the first and chiefe of those Knights with a graue, and manly fashion, deliuering these words hol­ding a Lady (most exact in all perfections) by the hand. Most incomparable Princesse, the fame of whose worth the world is fild withall, and yet wants a­nother to be able to comprehend the fulnesse of it. Be pleased to know, that this Lady and my selfe are your deuoted Seruants, Perissus and Limena of Ce­cillia, rescued and saued from ruine and death by your magnanimious bro­ther Parselius, to whom we were now going to manifest our gratefulnesse to him, but hearing by a ship which came from Morea, iust as we were putting a shore, that the Prince is neither there, nor hath been of sometimes heard of, [Page 124] withall of your iourney, we resolued to attend you, and to you doe the ser­uice we owe him, which by him I know will be a like taken, as to himselfe; such is his affection to you, such admirable perfections liuing in him, as loue, and affection to his friends are plentifully flourishing in him; wherefore we beseech you to accept of our affectionate seruices, which shall euer (next to Parselius) bee most deuotiouslie obseruing to your commands. Him wee loue for his vertues, and the benefits wee haue receiued from him; you were loue for him and your owne merits, whose name doth duly claime all eies, and hearts to loue and admire.

Pamphilia, whose modesty neuer heard her owne commendations with­out blushing, pretily did now expresse a bashfulnesse, but her speech deli­uered with confidence shewed those words, nor the speaker of them neede for them blush, they were these.

Braue and renowned King, of whose vertues mine eares haue long since been witnesse; bee pleased to heare your seruant say, shee doth blesse her eyes, that presents such worth vnto them, and esteeme this as my chiefest happinesse, that for the first encounter in my iourney, fortune fauours mee with the meeting of such excellent Princes, in whom are all the powers of true worthinesse, that can be in either, or both sexes; and in you most happy Queene, the rare vertue of matchlesse and loyall constancy; and much doe I blesse my destine thus to enioy your companies, which Parselius shall thanke you for, and I him for you.

Then she presented them both to her Vncle, who kindly welcom'd them, being glad such royall company would [...]ttend his Neece to honour her Co­ronation, which he meant should be with all speed after their arriuall, he de­termining to retire to a religious house, he had built to that purpose. Thus with happy and pleasant content she sailed towards Pamphilia, while Parseli­us all this while continuing in sweet delight, it is now fit time to let him see his fault committed in the greatest kind of ill, being breach of faith in loue.

One night in his sleepe, Vrania appeared vnto him, seeming infinitely per­plexed, but as if rather fild with scorne, then sorrow, telling him, hee was a Traytor to loue, and the subtillest betrayer of truth. Now may you ioy said she in your sha [...]e and change, your cruell falshood hauing vndone my trust, but thinke not this troubles me farther, then for vertues sake; so farre are you now from my thoughts, as I study how I neuer more may heare of you; and to assure you of this, you shall see me giue my selfe before your face, to another more worthy, because more iust. This in soule so grieued him, as he cried, sobd, groand, and so lamentably tooke on, as the kind Dalinea lying by him awaked, hauing much adoe to bring him out of his wofull dreame. But when he recouered his sences, they were but to make him more truly feele paine, continuing in such extremitie of weeping, as she feared his heart would breake withall, which made her heart euen rend with compas­sion. Much shee intreated, and euen besought him to tell her the cause, but this of any secret must bee kept from her; shee begged, hee continued in laments, till at last he saw hee must not leaue her thus in feare. Wherefore after hee had a little studied how to bee more deceit­full, or as equally as he had bin before, weeping still, and she accompanying [Page 125] him in teares seeing his fall so fast; which hee finding made him weepe the more, both now kindly lamenting each other, they remayned the most perfect soules of affliction, that euer had earthly bodyes about them. Compassion he had in great fullnesse to Dalinea, torment for Vrania's scorne [...] affliction for her losse, hatefull loathing his fault, condemning himselfe more [...]ruelly then she would haue done, all ioyning as it were for his vtter de­struction; yet remain'd hee in his bed, framing this excuse to satisfie his wife, telling her that he imagined hee saw all Arcadia on fire, the earth flaming, and in the mid [...]st his father burning, who with lamentable cryes demanded helpe of him; wherfore said he, certainely some ill is befallen, or befalling him, which makes me resolue instantly to goe vnto him. O take me with you, said she. My deere, said he, pardon at this time my leauing you, for should I carry you where troubles are? no, Sweet, remayne you here, and be assur'd, you soone shall heare of your Parselius, and if all be well, in short time Ile returne for you; besides, our mar [...]yage not yet knowne may wrong you if not carefully carryed: then deere loue bee patient, and stay heere.

She could not deny, for words fail'd her, only she sob'd, and washed his face with her teares, who was as much afflicted. Then rising he sent her Maides vnto her, and so departed to his chamber, where he arm'd himselfe: then being ready to goe to her, hee thought the word or shew of farwell, would but giue new wounds, wherfore writing some few lines, he deliuer'd them to the Steward, & so with charge to giue the letter to her owne hands, he tooke his horse, hasting he knew not whither, regarding neither way nor any thing else; then came he to the Sea side, his Squier nor daring to speake one word to him all that iourney; when he sent Clorinus (so was he cald) to prouid a boat for him, he thought it not fit to deny, nor durst he venture to councell. In the meane time came a little Barque, into which he went, tur­ning his horse loose, not considering what griefe & trouble might come for his misse. But he who sought for death, thought of no earthly content: he be­ing in, they put againe from the Land, and at Clorinus returne, were quite out of sight. He finding his Masters horse without his Lord, fell into pittifull complayning not being able to guesse other then the worst mishappe: long he was resoluing what to doe, but in conclusion hee vowed to spend his life in solitary search of him, and so to dye; but by no meanes to goe to Dalinca, nor to bee an ill newes bringer to his Parents. Heauily and afflictedly hee pass'd on by the Sea side, till hee mette the Squier of Leandrus, who ioyfully asked him for his Lord, hee as sadly replied, he had lost him; then followed Leandrus who knowing the youth asked for his friend, but to him hee could make no answer but in teares. Sraight feare possessed him, the youth still wept, Leandrus sigh'd, and taking him aside coniured him to tell what he knew of his Lord.

Then did hee relate all vnto him, hiding onely what might touch Dalinea; this much mooued the Prince, yet he sought to comfort Clo­rinus, telling him, he did not see by this, any other harme likely to follow but some priuat grief had made him take this course, and therfore willed him by any meanes to make no busines of it, but goe and seek him as carefully as hee could; aduising him by reason of his loue, which he knew he bare to Vrania, [Page 126] to goe to Ciprus, least thither hee were gone to try the enchantment. Thus they parted, Leandrus much greiued for Parselius, not indeed being able to iudge of the matter, yet tooke hee a good courage to him, as a hap­pie foretelling of his friends safetie, and so tooke his way to Dalineas Castle, whom he found in as much molestation, as euer louing, and faithfull wife, felt for the absence of her husband. But when shee saw her Brother, the ioy of that, and her iudgment contending with her passion, made her hide it so well, as he only beleeued she had beene ill of a feauer, which was true, but twas the Hectique feauer of loue; Some dayes hee tarryed there, all which time she held in good order: but he once gone, she fell into the most dolorous, and vnsufferable passions, that violence in violent loue could produce.

Parselius with a hartlesse body and wounded soule, neuer asking whither they carryed him, nor speaking one word, held on till they landed him in an Iland which they knew, so going away from them, he sought the most ob­scure place he could, but finding now none sad enough desiring to outgoe Perissus in his desolate liuing, which made him againe remember the hap­pinesse he had in the finding Vrania, for whom he now suffers, was assaulted with a new kind of sorrow, yet all but running to the end of torturing him, embracing memory for telling him all her perfections, as if the fault, the miserie of her rage, the misfortune of her losse, were not enough to perplexe him, but he must needs add memory as a plague of his owne bringing, and cherishing. Then did he wish he were in that Iland, and that he might spend his daies in the same rocke, and that it might likewise include his miseries, cursing his indiscretion, that suffered the Ship to goe away before shee had conuayd him thither; then seeking for some other Barque that might doe it, he ranne to the Sea againe, where he found a little boate, and in her an old Hermitte, with him he would goe, nor could the old Father disswade him. To a Rocke they came being a prettie way within the Sea, where being lan­ded, the old man ledd the way vp to the toppe, where it seem'd there had beene anciently a Temple of great state, and bignesse, as yet by the ruines did appeare: among those sad places the Cell of this good man was made, with this religious man, & in this solitary place he resolu'd to end his daies think­ing he could not doe better then hide his face, which euen himselfe was a­shamed of, for hauing committed so execrable an offence.

Then sate they downe together, the old Hermitt consenting to his stay at last, but something against his will, at first he tooke him, and he happy (if that word may be vsed in that miserie, where happines, nor content, or any thing but afflictions are) but vse what terme you wil to this, here he stayd, & being set they tould their owne stories to each other, Parselius beginning.

Aged and graue Father, giue mee leaue by way of confession to tell you my wofull life, which being so deliuered claymes secresie of it selfe, did not your goodnesse otherwise warrant mee that from you. My name is Parselius, borne (in an vnhappy houre, and vnder a cursed plannet) in Morea, Prince therof, and of all miseries, my possessions so largely extending in that continent, as none hath a more mightie inheritance. I was bred much at Athens, yet could I learne no way to avoyd misfor­tune, but how to bee subiect to it I was most apt, humilitie to subiecti­on [Page 227] raigning more in mee then rule. My trauells I beganne (as likewise all my good) with a Cosin of mine, also bred there, and for the only happy­nesse I euer tasted, We [...]ent sometime together in the search of one, who I ass [...]e my selfe I haue found, and with the finding lost my selfe, hauing before that parted from my friends, to the most excellent (and in tha [...] my sinne the mor [...] excelling) I came into an Iland where I found, her, whose beauty excelled all things but her mind, which yet beautified that [...] else ma [...]chlesse body, with her I fell in loue, and loued her earnestly: vil­laine [...]hat I [...]ay, I lou'd, and so proue by the change, my fault, much more that I must say I euer lou'd her who (sweetest Creature) beleeuing me, that then was iust, went with leauing that Iland where she was bred, trusting me who haue deceiued her.

Many dangers we pass [...]d, she in all of them fearing nothing but my harm [...], who since haue brought the greatest to her: at last a storme tooke vs when wee were as we thought safe, and in sight of Ital [...], and wherin we might haue landed, but desteny otherwise appoynted for vs. This tempest brought vs from ioy and comfort to despaire and losse; for wee were carryed (in the many daies that it endured) to Ciprus, where landing, by wicked charmes our shippe burned, and wee were forced to goe vp into the Iland for succour.

Then arriued we at an inchaunted Palace, made of purpose for my de­struction, wherein Vrania is inclosed, shee whom once I did best loue, who ought still to haue beene best loued, and shee for whose losse in my fals­hood thus tormenteth mee, thence parted I depriued of all sense, but, by leauing that Land came againe into them to bee more vexed with them; a while (and wretch, too small a while,) lamenting her imprisonment, and my want which willfully, I caus [...]d to be no longer want, but direct losse.

O fault vnpardonable, why doe I liue to confesse it? and shame in mee, not quite deuouring me: but I who was borne to ill, ledd by the seruants of Hell, or Hell it selfe conspiring my ruine, brought me into Achaia, and so into the power of vild change.

There I saw Dalinea daughter to the King of Achaia, shee blinded not alone mine eyes with admiration, but my iudgement, blotting out & force­ing my memory to bee treacherous to me, made me forget all thoughts of my more deseruing loue, and truth it selfe: letting mee see nothing but desire of her loue, she vertuous (and too perfect for such a worthlesse Crea­ture as my selfe) could but allowe of vertuous yeelding, I to enioy, gran­ted any thing, and so I marryed her, with whom I remain'd some while as happy as any blessing in a wife could make mee, and yet in that am most vnblessed, not being able to continue in that happy state of still enioying her, too great a portion of good for mee, (wretched man) to haue. For one night I saw Vrania in my sleepe appeare vnto me, or better to say, my conscience taking the aduantage of my bodyes rest, the hatefull enemie to the soules blisse, and in that quiet shewed vnto mee, my deerest shep­herdesse iustly [...]ccusing me, and condemning mee. I had no way to e­scape, if not by this meanes; I rose, I left Dalinea for Vrania's fury, whose sweete substance I lost for Dalinea's loue, I haue now left both, both [Page 128] ini [...]r'd, both afflicted by me. Why should I then continue such an aff [...]cti­on to the rarest of women? and a vexation to the worst, as I am vnto my vnblessed selfe, Assist me [...] good Father, in my mi [...]ery, this is truth I haue told you, and more then ought to liue on earth or I hope can be found a­gaine; wherfore that as all ill is in mee, I desire, nay, couet to end, that the world may be no longer infected with that plague, but as knit in me, that knot may neuer be vnty'd, but end, and conclude with me.

Then wept he, as if it had beene to satisfie a drought with rayne, sheding teares in such abundance, as they left that name, to be more properly tear­med little streames.

Well, it was that the Sea was the place of receiuing those springs, which from the Rocke ranne into her, which in madnesse of despaire hee would once haue followed, offring to tumble into her; the old man striuing with him, stayd him, who had lost all power to resist, greife hauing taken away his strength, and in place of it giuen him only might, in weakning passions, working for their glory to destroy. Then did the aged Hermitte comfort him, chiding him for his wilfull sinne, in seeking to murther himselfe. Re­ligiously hee wrought vpon his fury, so as he brought him to a more peace­able bearing his afflictions, but not to any more easie.

This storme a little quieted (as after a tempest of Thunder, a shower of raine is thought little) the good man to passe the time began his story, the relation wherof gaue some liking to Parselius.

But because the Drums beate, and Trumpets sound in Morea for the re­leife of Macedon, and the braue conquest of Rosindy, the Hermitts discourse must a little stay, while warrs, the noblest, because profess'd by the noblest, take a little time for them. The time come for the Armies marching, braue Rosindy tooke his iourney with his most noble companions: hee Generall, Selarinus Generall of the Horse, the Prince of Corinth and Elis, had their places reserued for them, as Serieant Maior, & Commander of the Archers; Many braue Knights and bold men went along some out of loue, some for ambition, some for honor, many for preferment. The rendeuous was at Cariapaiary in the Confines of Macedon, not farr distant from the Riuer De­ [...]oda, where they met the Romanian Armie led by Lisandrinus as desired, but with it came Antissius to see the braue warrs, and to receiue Knighthood of Amphilanthus, who not being there, hee soone left the Army to find him out, promising when he had from him receiued that honor, (and only from him would he haue it) he would returne to them, where euer they were. Thus marched they on with all the brauery that might be, euery one striuing who should be most sumptuous, to expresse their loues and respects to their Generall: who was more generally beloued then any Prince, ex­cept his Cousen, and Brother, euery one wearing his Colours in honor to him, which was Oring-tawny and white.

Thither came to the place of meeting, also the Achaians ledd by Leandrus, who after hee had visited his Sister, and once againe seene his aged Fa­ther, followed the Armie gone before, and ouertooke them before their comming to the Towne. With them (and much t [...]ue affection in himselfe to the Generall) hee came to Rosindy, of whom hee receiued most louing welcome; who euer could imagine glorie, might heere haue seeene it at the [Page 129] height of perfection: magnanimous spirits, braue and vnconquered men, vndaunted souldiers, riches of all gallantry in euery respect, and what was most and best, all excellent souldiers, and true souldiers, the excellentest men.

Thus then was all that could be wisht in this Army together ioynd: none refused passage, but willingly yeelded it to be rid of their force, so as loue or feare, made free and open way for them, till they came within the skirts of Macedon, there they met some, but poore resistance, till they came to a great Plaine, neere the riuer of Deuoda. There they saw a great Army, and by in­telligence, knew the Vsurper was there: they went as neare him, as discreti­on would permit them, considering night grew on, and as iudicially proui­ded for the Army, the Generall himselfe going to settle euery Quarter in his right place, being so expert in the learning of the Art of a Souldier, as hee could iustly tell what compasse of ground would serue from one hundred to thousands.

When hee had setled them, he returned to his Tent, where hee with the Princes and Commanders supped, after consulting what would be fittest to bee done the next day; many opinions were giuen: some to set vpon the King and his Army, but that Selarinus liked not, for (said hee) wee are but strangers, and all our hope and power in the Armie, if wee be ouerthrowne, all is lost for vs; if hee loose the day, hee is in his owne Country, and may haue aide instantly brought to him: therefore I thinke fitter to let him vrge vs, then for vs to presse him to fight; besides, no question but hee will doe that, why then should wee bee so forward? Let vs patiently goe on with temper, and the greater will bee our benefit. Rosyndie much commended his aduise, and resolued to bee perswaded by it.

While thus they sate, came a Trumpet from Clotorindus with a defie, and challenge to fight the next morning This was accepted, the hower appoin­ted, eight of the clocke; thus euery one betooke themselues to rest, hoping for the next dayes victorie. As soone as day appeared, Rosyndie tooke his Horse, and rid through all the Armie, aduising, intreating, commanding, and vsing faire words, intreaties, peremptorie authoritie, and all in their kinds, as hee found the subiects, on whom they must bee vsed, with such iudgement, as bred not onely loue and feare, but admiration in all hearts, to see so great vn­derstanding and vnusuall exc [...]llencie in so few yeares. But now all are rea­dy, his Armie hee ord [...]r'd thus; the foote hee diuided in three bodies, the Vanguard led by himselfe, accompanied with Leandrus; the Maine bat­tel by Selarinus accompanied with Lisandrinus, the Reare, by the graue Mar­shall, who went with him out of loue to his person, with him was his sonne Lesarino: some of the Horse (by reason of aduantage was found in that place) were put on either side as Wings; the right-hand Wing giuen to Tolimandro, the left to the Prince of Elis, some Foote placed to flanke the Horse, and some Horse put in each diuision.

Clotorindus had put his men much in this kind; so they charged the Vantguard of the Macedonians, led by a braue and valiant Gentle­man, called Thesarenus, Prince of Sparta, who did so brauely, as had there been but few more of his spirit, the day had hardly bin lost, at least not so soone wonne. Rosyndie with the vantguard charged the Macedonians [Page 130] where there was a cruell fight, the Morean Horse first defeated, then the Vantguard broken and disordered, which Selarinus perceiuing, came with the Maine-battaile to the succour, where so brauely hee found Ro­sindie fighting as hee had made walles of dead men of his owne killing, round about him, as if they had been cast vp of purpose for his safetie: or as a List roped in for the combate, which hee was in, with the young Pha­lerinus, Prince of Thessalonica, who more delicately and brauely held out, then any hee had yet encountred: but what with wearinesse, and be­sides seeing the new succour come, was forced to yeeld; Rosindy taking him in his armes, in stead of disarming him, taking his word, in stead of his Sword, which noble act bred such loue in the young Prince to­wards him, as hee after prooued a true and faithfull subiect vnto him. Then did Rosindy, and Selarinus haste to the battaile, which was now by the ouerthrowne of the Vantguard, required to come vp, and the Reare with the strangers to aduance against the Macedonian Horse. A great while the Moreans had the worst, but at last by the valour of Selarinus, Leandrus (who had changed his white Armours, innocent cullour, to re­uengefull bloud), Lisandrinus, the Princes of Corinth and Elis, and the Mar­shall with his sonne, but especiallie by the iudgement mixt with true vallour, and the care, matched with excellent skill of Rosindy, the Victo­rie came on their side, with the shamefull flight of Clotorindus; the exe­cution was great, and indured long, the Conquest greater, the bootie verie rich, and thus with the losse of tenne thousand on the one side, and thirtie on the other, the retreit was sounded: the next day the dead of both sides buried, and Rosindy with his braue troope marched on towards Thessalonica, where the Queene was, and into which Towne the Vsurpe [...] was got, of purpose, if not by strength, yet by tricks to saue himselfe, and keep the Crowne; but neither he must doe.

Then did the braue Generall set downe before Thessalonica, and incom­pa [...]sing it round, cutting off all victuall by land, and blocking the sea and ships hindred all good from their aide; so making it a rare and cruell siege. Now did Rosindy endure the length of this with much paine, longing in his very soule, to see his Lady, which within some time after hee did, but so, as the great longing hee had satisfied by her sight, was turnd to sorrow for it: his desire and ioy to see her changed to griefe, and wishing hee had not seene her, the cause, and his affliction as hee termed it, proouing terrible. Thrice were their sallies made forth by the besieged, but to as little purpose, as if they meant only to come forth to be honourd with wounds, and being vanquished by their mightie Enemies.

One day they saw a white Flag vpon the Wall, which gaue them to vnderstand, a Parly was demanded by the beating likewise of a Drum, which Rosindy did in the same manner answere, they came vpon the Wall, the Prince and his companions to the Wall, then did Clotorindus speake thus.

Great Prince Rosyndie, and you braue Princes his Companions, what iniustice doe you goe about in seeking to depriue mee of mine owne, who neuer wronged you, nor would haue denied to haue serued any of you with my owne person and meanes, if you had requird it? now for you to [Page 131] seeke to take a Kingdome from mee, lawfully my right, both by being next heire male, and besides mine now by marriage with Meriana, daughter and heire, as you terme her, to the Crowne, what exceptions can you now take? Let me then as a Friend, and Kinsman (as by marriage I now am to you) gaine peace; I that haue been by your owne will made your Enemie, desire an end of these cruell warres. Let me be accepted as a Cosin, and my frend­ship taken as proferd by a friend, rather then thus continue shedding of bloud, let the conclusion be welcome, and the trumpets and drummes turnd to Musick of ioy. This I demand for my selfe as your friend, if you please, and for my wife your Cosin, who infinitely is grieued to haue her owne bloud seeke to shed the bloud of her deare husband.

Husband, false Traytor, repli'd Rosindy, she whose matchlesse worth so well knowes it selfe, cannot abuse that knowledge of truth, to yeeld the treasure of it to so base a place, and which neuer had staine, but by this thy wronging her, who cannot liue to vndoe that, with bestowing it on one so vild and treache [...]ous as thy selfe. For thy friendship I refuse it, and so I answere for my friends here present contemning thy basenesse, so as wee should hate our selues, if a thought of thy submission (if not to punish thee) could come into our hearts. Thy false tale of marriage we loath to heare of, since as falshood wee hate that, and thee for it. Thou sayst, wee haue no iust quarrell; O Monster, what Iustice more can bee required, then taking Armes to the putting downe a Rebell and a Traytor to his rightfull Princesse? Alli­ance thou claimest, I acknowledge none: and had there been no other cause, this had been enough to haue made vs ruine thee, for framing so false a report, and wronging (with thy filthie tongue) thy Queene, and the Queene of true vertue, and of Macedon. Therefore recant and deliuer her, or here I vow to fire the Towne, and breake open the gates, to let in our iust reuenge to thee, and on thee.

Is this the requitall of my kindnesse (said Clotorindus)? farewell, doe thy worst proud Prince, and all thy fond companie: but take this with thee before the Towne bee wonne, thy heart shall ake more, then e­uer any wound could come neare thee to bring it, or the wound of thy fond loue.

With that he went from the wall, and in stead of the white Flag, presently a bloudy one was h [...]ng forth, which continued till the next day, when as to the same place Meriana was brought, with an infinite number of armed men, dressed as to her Wedding, a Crowne on her head, and her haire all downe. To this sight was most of the Army drawne, but Rosindy, with most hast greedily beholding her beauty, and hearkning to her speech, which was this.

Clotorindus, thou hast now (I confesse) some pittie in thee, since thou will free mee from my miserable liuing, I thanke thee for it, and Ro­sindy I hope shall requi [...]e it, to whom I commend my best and last loue; farewell braue Prince, but bee thus confident that I am iust. With that they inclosed her round in a circle, often before seeking to hinder her last speech.

Presently was shee out of Rosindies sight, and presently againe brought into it to his extreamest miserie, for onely that peerelesse head was [Page 132] seene of him, being set vpon a pillar, and that pillar being vpon the top of the Pallace, the haire hanging in such length and delicacie, as although it some­what couered with the thicknesse of it, part of the face, yet was that, too sure a knowledge to Rosindie of her losse, making it appeare vnto him, that none but that excellent Queene was mistrisse of that excellent haire. His soule and heart rent with this sight, and the seeing it a farre off, rising with such speed, as it seemd a Comet to show before their ruine, or like the Moone, hauing borrowed the Sunnes beames to glorifie her pale face with his golden rayes. All the Armie made a most pitifull and mournefull crie, as if euery one had lost a loue, the Princes cry'd vpon reuenge, that word wrought most vpon Rosindy, the rest being before but a time to lull his passions in their rest, which were restlesse afflictions. Long it was be­fore hee spake, at last hee cryed, Arme and assault this wicked Towne. Then went hee in the head of the Armie to the Gates, which with En­gines that they had, and guided with furie, by the next morning, they broke open, not before when iudgement gouerned, being able to per­swade themselues they could haue compassed it.

The Gate open, they with furious rage, and mercilesse crueltie, pro­ceeded, sparing not one creature they met, hasting to take downe the Head of his dearest loue, and hopes. But when hee came thither, hee saw that taken away also. O crueltie vniust (said hee), wilt thou not suf­fer mee to see her once more? Wretched Fate, that I must now bee barred from taking yet the last kisse from thy deare, though pale dead lipps, on them to seale the last of my life? Hee complained thus, yet his griefe increased his rage, so as hee came into the Pallace, where hee found Clotorindus in the Hall, with a Dagger in his hand, who as soone as hee saw him, with a hellish countenance, hee looked on him, and in a curst voyce, said, Thy Victorie shall yet neuer bee honoured by my death, which but with mine owne hand shall bee brought mee: then stab'd hee himselfe in many places of his bodie, and so fell. The Prince scorning to touch him, commanded the Souldiers to take him, and throw him into the Ditch, esteeming that too good a buriall for him.

Then went hee on further, hoping in despaire to know how his soule was parted from him, and where the bodie did remaine, meaning on that place to make his Tombe, and in it to consume, pine, and die. With this hee went into many roomes, but found no bodie: then went hee to the Gallerie where hee first spake with her, throwing himselfe vpon the ground, kissing the place, and weeping out his woe. Selarinus staid with him to hinder anie rash, or sudden attempt, hee might make vpon himselfe; Leandrus and the rest made safe the Towne, and tooke all the people that were left (which were but few) to mercie in Rosindies name, who lying thus, at last start vp, crying, hee heard his Lady call for helpe. Selarinus doubting it had been but some vnrulie passion, mistrusting more his friend, seeing the vehemency of his passion, then hoping the truth of this, followed him, till hee came into a Tower at the end of the G [...]llery, where hee also heard a voice pitifully complaining, at last hearing it bring forth these words. O Rosindy, how iustly hast thou [...] dealt with me, [Page 133] and royally performd thy word? but wretch that I am, I shall not doe soe with thee, for heere must I consume my dayes vnknowne to thee, and wald vp with misery, and famine die.

This was enough for the two braue men to make new comfort, in new strength to relieue her, wherfore Rosindy cry'd out, dost thou liue my Me­riana? heere is thy faithfull loue, and seruant come to rescue thee. O my Lord, said she, neuer in a happyer time, quickly then giue me life with your sight. Then ran Selarinus downe with ioy to call for helpe, Rosindy exami­ning euery place, where he might find the fittest to come to throw downe the wall; but then a new feare tooke him, how they might doe that, and not hurt her; but the greater danger must be auoyded, and the lesse taken, so the soldiers came and threw downe the wall, Rosindy still crying to her to take heed; and when they came to the last blow, that there was a place ap­pear'd (though small) into the roome, none then must worke there but him­selfe, least dust, or any the least thing might offend her.

But when the wall was so much downe as she was able to come out, with what ioy did he hold her, and shee embrace her loue? Imagine excellent louers, what two such could doe, when after the sight of one dead, the other wall'd to certaine death, seeing both taken away, and mett with comfort, what could they say? what ioy possess'd them? heauenly comfort, and all ioyes on earth knit in this to content them.

Then did Rosindy as much weepe with ioy, as hee did before with mourning, and she weeped to see his teares, so as ioy not being to expresse it selfe, was forced to borrow part with sor [...]w to satisfie it.

Selarinus chid them for that passion, and so brought them out of it, bringing them into the Hall, whither by that time the other Prines were come, and the cheife of the Armie. In that braue and most warlike pre­sence did Meriana giue her selfe to Rosindy, being there betroathed: then were the others of the people taken to Meriana, the Macedonians from all parts comming with expresslesse ioy vnto her, yeelding them­selues as her loyall Subiects, and taking others to her, and Rosindy of alleageance.

Then sent hee new Gouernours and Commanders to all the fron [...]ier Townes, and into the cheife strength within the Land, requit [...]ng the Moreans with the estates of those that were lost in the bettaile, and the Towne; the strangers with the booty, which was infinite, and other such rewards as bound their loues to him for euer, not being able to hope to thriue so well in the next businesse, which now must be for Albania.

The Queene Meriana, and Rosindy in this content, the counterfeting was found, and the deuice discouer'd, which was told by a seruant of Cloto­rindus vsed in the businesse, which was, that pillar had bin made & set there by her Father, a man excellently graced in all arts, and especially in prosepec­tiues, to try his skill he made this, which though so big, as one might stand in it, yet so farr, it seemd but as a small piller, of purpose made to hold a head vp­pon, and so had they rais'd her within it, as no more appeard aboue it then her chinne coming ouer it, it was as if stucke into her throat the iust dis­stance and art in the making being such and so excellent as none could but haue thought it had beene her head cut off, besides the greife [Page 134] and her owne complection naturally a little pale, made her seeme more then vsually, and so nearer death, the intent being to make Rosindy beleeue shee was dead, which conceit, he hoped would leade him thence; she being gone, for whose sake he came thither, which if it had taken effect, then she should haue liued as she had done before, but seeing neither his false tale, nor this tooke the way hee wished, he walled her vp, purposing that since hee could not winne, nor keepe her, none should else enioy her; but now all is ended with the blessing of enioying, in a better estate who can be left? Am­philanthus following his way to Ciprus with his friend Ollorandus, quickly landed there, taking their way as they were directed by passengers, (the Countrey now full of people, that came to see the end of this businesse) to the throne of loue, the plaine before it, being all set with Tents, and co­uered with Knights and Ladyes.

The first Tent Amphilanthus knew to be some Italians, wherfore hee went into that, and finding it belonged to the Duke of Millan, whose o­pinion of his owne worth, and the beauty of his Mistresse had made him aduenture the enchantment, was therein inclosed, hee discouerd himselfe vnto his seruants, who presently made offer of it to his seruice; which hee accepted, yet did hee charge the men not to let him be knowne by any but themselues: there they rested for that night, the next morning go­ing among the Tents, finding many braue Princes, and excellent Ladyes, some come to aduenture others, only to behold the aduentures of others: many of these the two excellent Companies knew, but they keeping their beauers down [...] were not knowne of any.

One Lady among the rest, or rather aboue the rest, for exquisite wit and rare [...]pirit, so perfect in them, as she excelled her sexe so much, as her per­fections were stiled masculine.

This Lady (as her iudgment was greater then the rest, so her obseruation was likewise more particular) cast her eyes vpon these strangers, but most on the Italian: shee sigh'd at first sight, aftergrew sad, wondring why shee was so troubled, not knowing the face of her trouble, neuer then resting till she had got the truth of whence he was, and so the meanes to see him; hee hauing inquired of euery ones name and title, came also to know her to bee called Luceania Daughter to a noble man, who was Brother to the fa­mously vertuous, but vnfortunate Lady Luceania, wife, and Mother to the first, and this last Antissius King of Romania.

Wife she was to a great Lord in the same Countrey, who though vn­able to flatter himselfe with conceit of worth, sufficient to end so rare an aduenture, yet partly for nouelties, and most to please his spiritfull wife, hee came thither, louing the best company, for these reasons.

The Prince was glad to here this, because he was now sure of acquain­tance quickly there. As soone as his name was knowne, shee studying to haue her ends by his knowledge, watched the next fit opportunitie, which was offered the next day by a generall meeting of all the Knights and La­dies. Hee seldome bashfull, put himselfe among them: Luceania must needs know him, wherfore shee asked those that accompanied her, who that stran­ger was, they all answered they knew him not, nor could they learne of any who hee was.

[Page 135]Is it possible, said she so braue a Prince should be vnknowne? many de­siring to doe her seruice, she being for noble behauiour, courtesie, wit, and greatnesse of vnderstanding loued, and admired of all such as could bee ho­nord with her conuersation; to please her, euery one indeuored, and one for­warder then the rest (as more bound in affection) went to him, telling him, that a faire Lady much desired to know his name.

Can it be answered the King, that any faire Lady should so much ho­nor mee, as to desire so worthlesse a thing as my name? There is one Sir, said hee, who curiously desireth the knowledge of it, which must bee more worthy [...]hen you doe accound it, otherwise could she no couet in, and such an one is shee, said he, as if you can deserue beauty, you will acknow­ledge, only deserues honor, and seruice.

Th [...]y b [...]long, said the King to all such excellent creatures, yet Sir, [...], it is my ill fortune at this time that I am not able to satisfie her de­ [...], although this grace shall euer make me her seruant. The Knight ac­ [...]nted with such vowes went back to Luceania, truly telling her all that [...]had said, which although deliuered by a farre worse Orator, yet gaind [...]y more fauour for him: shee esteeming witt beyond outward beauty, b [...]t both there ioyned, it is necessary for to yeeld as she did, for before shee desi [...]'d his name only, now finding iudgment and braue Courtshipp, shee long's for his society, and these accompanied with seeing his excellent­ly sweete, and euer conquering louelinesse, did ioyne as to the conquest of her, for shee who before had knowne loue rather by name then sub­iection, now shee finds her selfe loues Prisoner, affection before, but companion like [...] now mastring, and now she finds it expedient to know that delightfull cruell, who had with so pleasing a dart, wounded, and ceazed her (till then commanding) heart.

The next euening was resolu'd of for her gaine of knowledge, and rather then misse, there shee would employ the same louesicke Knight againe, who to bee graced with her commands would doe any thing.

The euening come, and Amphilanthus, his companion assuring themselues they were vnknowne, freely came into the company. Shee who now was by the art of loue taught to watch all opportunities, and neuer to loose any, was walking with her husband forth, to passe away the time in the coole ayre: Amphilanthus and his friend discoursing of their owne passions, finding the greatest misse euer in most company, their Ladyes being absent, were so transported with their passions, as they were close to this amorous Lady, and her Lord before they discouerd it, which when they found, asked pardon for their rudnesse, they would haue returnd: but shee who was now, not to put of her hopes till the next meeting, resolud to make vse of this, so with as inticing a countenance, as Caesar vnderstood Cleopatras to be, shee told them shee saw no error they had committed, that place being free to all, but tur [...]ing her selfe towards her husband, she smiling said. Would you thinke my Lord, this Knight were ashamed of his name? I see small reason that hee should, said hee, why thinke you that he is? because hee refuseth too tell it said shee.

[Page 136]Although (excellent Lady) answered Amphilanthus, it may be my name is not so fortunate as to haue come to your eares with any renowne, yet am I not ashamed of it, a vow onely hauing made mee conceale it. May not that vow bee broken, said shee? This may, and shall (said hee) to satisfie your desire, though some vowes are so deare, as nothing, nor any force may preuaile against them. With that shee saw Ollorandus had vndertaken her husband, which gaue her more libertie in her desires, againe vrging with fine and amorous countenances the breach of his vow. The commanding power (said he) which your perfections carrie with them must preuaile; then bee pleased to know I am Amphilanthus, King of the Romans.

Pardon mee my Lord, (said shee) that I haue been thus bold with you, which was caused by (with that shee blushing held her peace, desi­ring to bee thought bashfull, but more longing to bee intreated for the rest). Nay, speake on, excellent Lady (said hee), and barre not mine eares from hearing what you surely once thought mee worthy to know. Well then my Lord (said shee) you shall haue it, my desire to know you, was caused by an vnresisting power, your excellencies haue ouer my yeelding affections to you; the first time I saw you, I receiued the wound I now perish in, if you fauour not.

Amphilanthus was rather sorrie, then glad to heare this speech, be­ing to him, like as where the law is that a man condemned to die, may bee saued, if a Maide begge him for her husband: so hee may bee saued from death, but wedded against his heart to another; affection before hauing wounded him, hee can scarce entertaine this: but considering gratefulnesse is required as a chiefe vertue in euerie worthie man, he curteously replied, that till that time fortune had neuer so honoured him, as to bring him to the height of so much happinesse as to be gra­ced with such an affection.

Shee who loued, and desired, tooke the least word hee spake for a blessed consent, was about to answere againe, when they saw Ollorandus come with her husband to them, who with much adoe (as he counterfeited,) had told who they were; the good man hearing that these were two of them relieu'd, and won Romania to quiet by their owne valor, but especially reioy­cing that Amphilanthus (of whom the world was fild with same) was there, came to welcom him, nor would be deny'd, but they must lodge with him in his tent. Luceania was not greeu'd at this motion, though Amphilanthus would willingly haue gone backe to his Milan Tent, where he might haue comforted himselfe, with discoursing to his owne thoughts; But the Lady now keepes him prettily well from those passions with continuall discourse of other things.

Much he enquired after the manner of ending the enchaunment, which hee longed for, that then hee might againe see what he only coueted: Loue still increasing in her, as longing grew in him to see his deerest Loue. Hee kindly entertain'd her fauours, and cour [...]uously requited them, and one day the more to expresse his respect to her, hee tooke this course, which in his owne minde was plotted rather to get more freedome, and to make proofe of his valour, his friend and hee onely acquainting Luceania and her Lord with it, changing their armors and colors, the better to be vnknowne, [Page 137] came in the morning with Trumpets before them, challenging euery one that desired to trie his strength, to the Iust, to breake sixe staues a piece, and this to continue sixe dayes, in defence of their Mistrisses beauty. Amphilan­thus was in Watchet and White; Ollorandus in Orange colour, hee hauing no fauour; and therefore in spite wore that colour: the other had a scarfe which Lucenia sent him the night before, which hee wore on his right arme. This challenge brought forth all the knights, and they the Ladies; the first was an Italian, and encountred Ollorandus (who was to hold the first three dayes, if so long hee could without foyle, by Amphilanthus appoint­ment, if not, then he to come in). This Italian was strong, and the stronger, for that he was in loue; and more, because his Mistrisse at that time made him the bolder, being fauourd with her sight, and blessed with her louing wishes. But these could not preuaile against the Bohemian, who had the stronger spirit waiting on him of perfect loue, which ouerthrew the Italian, lying on the ground, flatly confessing his ouerthrow.

Two dayes he thus kept the field, without shew of loosing the honor to any: but then came one, who encountred him with such cleane strength and valour, as he was forc'd to confesse, hee matched him; nor did it turne to any dishonour to him, when it was knowne who it was, being Polarchus, Ba­stard sonne to the king of that Iland: but soone did Amphilanthus reuenge his friend, and so by conquest kept the field, though hee confest, hee had sel­dome felt such an encounter as the last of the sixe courses, the other fiue ha­uing lasted without any aduantage: this with the losse of his stirrops, but the falling back of the other vpon his horses backe, and trumbling downe, stri­uing to recouer his saddle. Thus he redeemd his friends mischance, main­taining the field against all commers, in the defence of his mistrisses beauty.

Two dayes hee held it, in which time hee woone the same of the brauest Knight. The last day they were a little hindred from that sport, by the comming of a great, and braue troope of knights, hauing with them two of the beauties the world could hold excellent; they rode in a Chariot of wat­chet Veluer, embroidred with crimson silke, and Pearle the inside, the out­side with purle of siluer: and yet that riches poore, in comparison of the in­comparable brightnesse and clearenesse of their owne beau [...]ies. Soone were they knowne: for who could be ignorant of the perf [...]ctions of Pamphilia and Limena: for hee that neuer saw Pamphilia but by report, seeing this vn­speakable beauty, said, it could be no other then that peerelesse Queene, none else could so excell in true perfection. Two Knights rid on each side of the Chariot, one in armour of Gold, enameld with leaues of Lawrell; the other all blacke: thus they came with great magnificence and state, when Amphi­lanthus was ready to encounter a new knight, that would needs haue the fa­uour to be throwne downe by the conquering Prince, who soone receiud the honour, his vanquishing power gaue all other, kissing his mother without de­sire o [...] pleasure.

Then did the Prince looke about him, casting his eyes by chance towards the troope, at which sight hee straight knowing the neuer enough exalted Princesse, he went towards her, his eies meeting the vnresisting power of her eies, who was soueraign of al harts; telling the new Queen, that certainly now the charmes must haue conclusion, she being come to aduenture for them. I [Page 138] hope my Lord (said she) there will be an end of them, since I know I am able to bring one part to the conclusions demand, being that, I thinke you haue not been much troubled with all, and in truth I cannot blame you much, since libertie is an excellent profit. But what colour shall wee haue next; the last I saw was Crimson, now Watchet and White; do you adde to your inconstancy, as fast as to your colours? None can bee accused deere Ladie (said he) for their change, if it bee but till they know the best, therefore little fault hath yet been in me: but now I know the best, change shall no more know mee. Euery change brings this thought (said shee): but here is the Queene Limena, whose noble vertues were rescued by your friend, and my brother from crueltie and death, though not of them, but her person dying, they must (if not for him) haue remaind the outward tombes of her honor. Then kist he her hands, and so conducted the two Queenes to the fittest place to see those begun sports, and to be beheld of the Knights.

Amphilanthus continuing his still enioyed victories, none parting from him without flat falles, or apparant losse of honour. Then the Knight of Victorie, and the Black Knight came vnto him with these words: Victorious Sir, we see how brauely and happily you haue carried your selfe in this chal­lenge, and so as we should bee too bold flatterers of our selues, if wee would hope to get the better of you: yet being knights and seruants to faire Ladies, we are ingaged in honour to try our fortunes with you, defending that these two Ladies are fairer, and more truly worthy then your mistrisse. I said the Knight of Victory defend the Queene Limena: and I (said the other, the in­comparable Pamphilia. Your demaund (said Amphilanthus) shall bee an­swered, although I must confesse, it rather should bee yeelded vnto without blowes; yet will I proceede in the begun challenge, though against beau­ties matchlesse; and first answere you, who defend the Queene Limena.

All eyes were fixed vpon these two, one knowne powerfull, and not to bee vanquisht, the other outwardly appearing excellent, and so did he proue him­selfe: for neuer were six courses runne more finely, then these were; so as euery one said, that none but another Amphilanthus could haue per­formed them so delicately; yet a little difference there was betweene them, which made a question to whom the whole honour did belong. Amphilanthus lost his stirrops, and the other was struck flat vpon his horse: but the Prince himselfe ordered the businesse thus; that hee would make an end of that mornings triumph, and the other should haue the after noones triall.

This was agreed on by all, and hee much commended for his royall curtesie; when no one came, Amphilanthus lighting from his horse, came to the stranger, who stood ready to receiue him with his right Gauntlet off, but his Beauer downe, to whom the Prince with a graue and sweet countenance deliuered the Speare, and liberty for the free accomplishing the rest of that exercise. The stranger with al respect, and indeed affection, receiued that fa­uour, wishing the happinesse to conclude the time with as much brauery and good fortune, as Amphilanthus had done the daies past.

Then did the Prince boldly shew himselfe to all, many there knowing him, and comming humbly to acknowledge their loues and gratefulnesse vnto him, for infinite fauours receiued by them from him: for indeede [Page 139] no man was euer inrich'd with a more noble, free, and excellent disposition, then this exquisit Prince had flowing in him: after dinner this most hono­red and beloued Prince, with the admired Queenes, Ollorandus, and the rest came againe to see the conclusion of that braue sport, in which time the Knight of Victorie so stoutly behaued himselfe, as thereby hee gaind excee­ding great fame, but now was euening beginning to threaten him with her power to ouercome his victories, which yet remaind whole vnto him, few being left that were not by Amphilanthus, Ollorandus, or himselfe, taught how to aduenture in such like businesses. He now hauing a little time left him to breathe in, none comming against him, hee looked about, and cast his eyes on her, whose beauty he so brauely defended with such affection, as hee stirred not them, nor his mind from that beloued obiect, till a boy in shepheards apparrell deliuered these words to him, almost pulling him, be­fore hee gaue him hearing. My Lord said he (for so my master bid me call you), I come from yon man, one, who not skill in armes, but truth of his La­dies beauty brings forth, and by me sends you word, that your Mistrisse Li­mena is not one halfe so faire, as his Queene Pamphilia: it is (hee sayes) no bouldnesse to defend her, whose beauty is without compare; wherefore hee desires you to prepare your selfe: but take heed Sir, hee is mighty strong. Good Boy (said the Knight), tell your Master I will attend him, and I pray thee aduise him as well for the loue I beare thee. Then came the Shepheard knight (for so they cald him) all in Ashcolour, no plume nor fauour, onely fauourd with his Ladies be [...]t wishes (the best of fauours). The encounter was strong and delightful, shiuers of their speares aseending into the aire, like sparkes of a triumph fire: fowre courses they ran, without any difference for aduantage; the fift, the knight of Victorie lost both stirrops, and a little yeel­ded with his body; the other passing with the losse of one stirrop; the sixth and last, being (if it were possible) a more strong, and excellent course: their ambitions equall to honour, glorious to loue, and couetous of gaine before their Ladies, scorning any place lower then the face. Both hit so luckely and equally, as their beauers flew vp, the knight of Victorie being knowne to be Perissus, the other Amphilanthus, who confident that now he had truth on his side, and desirous once more to trie the strength of the other, while most eyes were on the Champion, he stole away, and arm'd himselfe. Amphilan­thus at first knew not Perissus, many yeares hauing past since their la [...]t mee­ting: but when he heard Perissus nam'd, with what ioy did he embrace him, being the man, who from his youth, hee had like himselfe loued, admi [...]ing his vertues, and louing his person. This done, they went to Pamphilia's tent, where shee gaue Amphilanthus infinite thanks for the honour hee had done her: but yet my Lord (said she) I must blame my poore beauty for the de­lay you had in your Victory, which I confessed, when I saw so long differ­ring of your ouercomming, grieuing then for that want, which brought your stay in winning.

Detract not from your beauty, which all iudgements know without equall (said hee), nor from the bountie of the renowned and famous Perissus, but giue the rea [...]on where it is, which is want in my fortune to obtaine any thing that most I desire, or seek, such crosses hitherunto accompanied my life. Then did Pamphilia intreat him to take knowledge of the other knight, whose [Page 140] name was Millisander, Duke of Pergamus and her subiect, whose father, though newly dead, and therefore wore that mourning armour, yet would not stay, but attend her thither; then Amphilanthus desired to know how it came about, that she honoured that place with her presence. The Queene willing to satisfie his demand began her discourse in this manner. Mine Vn­cle King of Pamphilia, comming for me to carry me into his Country, and there to settle me (as long since he resolu'd) by the consent and leaue of my father, I went with him, by the way winning the happines of the companies of these excellent Princes, Perissus and Limena: after our arriuall I was crow­ned, and being peaceably setled, mine Vncle retired into a Religious house, where he will end his dayes: I heard still the same of this enchantment, of which I had vnderstood by my brother Parselius, who had himselfe got some vnfortunate knowledge of it; I desired to aduenture it, being assured that I was able for one part to conclude it, since it is to be finished by that vertue I may most iustly boast of. Thus resolued (honoured with the presence like­wise of this excellent King, and vertuous Queene, with the consent of my people, leauing the gouerment for this time with the Councell) we came to aduenture for the Throne of Loue. Which (said Amphilanthus) I am also to trie; wherefore let me be so much fauoured, as I may bee the Knight to aduenture with you, and you shall see, I want not so much constancy, as not to bring it to end, though it pleased you lately to taxe me with it. My Lord (said she) I taxed you onely for Antissia's sake, who (poore Lady) would die, if shee thought that you had chang'd, shee so entirely loueth you. Hath she spoken to you to speake for her (said hee)? in truth shee did well, since loue much better suites with your lippes then her owne: but shall I haue the ho­nour that I seeke? You shall command my Lord (said shee), and wee will surely bring an end to it; your valour, and my loyalty being met together. He made no other answere then with his eyes, so for that night they all par­ted, euery one expecting the next mornings fortune, when the Throne should be so brauely aduentur'd for. All that would trie their fortunes had free libertie; so six couples ventur'd before the peerelesse payre; but all were imprisoned, to be honord the more, with hauing their deliuery by the power of the most excellent, who being ready to aduenture, they were hindred a little by the comming of a Gentleman in white armour richly set forth, and brauely accompanied, who comming directly to Amphilanthus desired the honour of Knighthood, telling him hee had sought many places, and passed many Countries to receiue that fauour from him, which, but from him hee would not accept, withall pulling off his helme, which presently made him to be knowne to be Antissius King of Romania. Amphilanthus with due re­spect to him welcomd him, protesting he could neuer merit so high an honor as this was vnto him, wherefore without delay in the sight of all that Prince­ly company, he girt the sword to him, and he with Perissus put on his spurs; then came Allimarlus to kisse his hands, who most kindly he receiued; and now my Lord (said hee), you are very fitly come to see the Throne of Loue wonne (I hope) by this surpassing Queene, and your seruant my selfe.

Antissius went to salute the Queene, so together they passed towards the Bridge. Antissius and Ollorandus going together, twind in each othe [...]s armes [Page 141] Pamphilia being thus apparreld in a Gowne of light Tawny or Murrey, em­brodered with the richest, and perfectest Pearle for roundnesse and whitenes, the work contriued into knots and Garlands; on her head she wore a crowne of Diamonds, without foiles, to shew her clearenesse, such as needed no foile to set forth the true brightnesse of it: her haire (alas that plainely I must call that haire, which no earthly riches could value, nor heauenly resemblance counterfeit) was prettily intertwind betweene the Diamonds in many pla­ces, making them (though of the greatest value) appeare but like glasse set in gold. Her necke was modestly bare, yet made all discerne, it was not to be beheld with eyes of freedome: her left Gloue was off, holding the King by the hand, who held most hearts. He was in Ashcolour, witnes [...]ing his repen­tance, yet was his cloake, and the rest of his suite so sumptuously embroidred with gold, as spake for him, that his repentance was most glorious; thus they passed vnto the first Tower, where in letters of Gold they saw written, De­sire. Amphilanthus knew he had as much strength in desire as any, wherefore he knocked with assured confidence at the Gate, which opened, and they with their royall companions passed to the next Tower, where in letters of Rubies they read Loue. What say you to this, braue Queene (said hee)? haue you so much loue, as can warrant you to aduenture for this? I haue (an­swerd shee) as much as will bring me to the next Tower, where I must (I be­lieue) first aduenture for that.

Both then at once extremely louing, and loue in extremity in thē, made the Gate flee open to them, who passed to the last Tower, where Constancy stood holding the keyes, which Pamphilia tooke; at which instant Constancy vanish­ed, as metamorphosing her self into her breast: then did the excellent Queene deliuer them to Amphilanthus, who ioyfully receiuing them, opened the Gate [...] then passed they into the Gardens, where round about a curious Fountaine were fine seates of white Marble, which after, or rather with the sound of rare and heauenly musick, were filled with those poore louers who were there imprisoned, all chain'd one vnto another with linkes of gold, ena­miled with Roses and other flowers dedicated to Loue: then was a voyce heard, which deliuered these wordes; Loyallest, and therefore most in­comparable Pamphilia, release the Ladies, who much to your worth, with all other of your sexe, yeeld right preheminence: and thou Am­philanthus, the valliantest and worthiest of thy sexe, giue freedome to the Knights, who with all other, must confesse thee matchlesse; and thus is Loue by loue and worth released.

Then did the musick play againe, and in that time the Pallace and all vanished, the Knights and Ladies with admiration beholding each other. Then Pamphilia tooke Vrania, and with affection kissing her, told her, the worth which shee knew to bee in her, had long since bound her loue to her, and had caus'd that iourney of purpose to doe her seruice. Then came Perissus, bringing Limena to thanke her, who heartily did it as shee deserued, since from her counsell her fortunes did arise. Amphilanthus likewise saluted her, hauing the same conceit of resemblance between her and Leonius, as Par­selius had, and so told her with exceeding ioy, all after one another comming to her, and the rest. Antissius casting his eye vpon Selarina, fixed it so, as it was but as the setting of a branch, to make a tree spring of it: so did his [Page 142] loue increase to full perfection. Then all desir'd by Pamphilia tooke their way to her Tent, euery one conducting his Lady, Amphilanthus Pamphilia, Perissus, his Limena; Ollorandus, Vrania; Antissius, Selarina, the King of Cy­prus his Queene, his braue base Sonne Polarchus, the Lady hee only lou'd, who was Princesse of Rodes. Many other great Princes, and Princesses there were, both Greekes and Italians; Allimarlus for old acquaintance leading Vra­nia's maide: thus to Pamphilia's tent they came, where most sumptuously shee entertain'd them: then did all the great Princes feast each other, the last being made by the King of Ciprus, who out of loue to the Christian Faith, which before he contemned, seeing such excellent, and happy Prin­ces professors of it, desired to receiue it, which Amphilanthus infinitly re­ioycing at, and all the rest, Christned him with his wife, excellently faire daughter, and Polarchus his valiant Sonne, and so became the whole Island Christians.

Then came he vnto Amphilanthus, humbly telling him that the disgrace he had from him receiu'd, he esteemed as a fauour, and honour sufficient, to be ouercome by the valiantest King, who none must resist; to manifest which, he besought him to accept him vnto his seruant, and friend, with whom hee resolued to end his daies.

Amphilanthus replied, the honor was his, to gaine so braue a gentleman to his friendship, who should euer finde him ambitious to expresse his loue to him: but said he, assuredly you neuer aduentured the throne, but that you were in loue. He blushing, told him it was true, but (alas) my Lord, said he, I haue no hope now to winne her. Then told he the King, the whole story of his loue, beseeching him to assist him, which he promised to doe, and for that purpose to take their way by Rodes, and so at the deliuering of her to her Father, to sollicit his suit for him, she extreamly louing him, hee kissed the Kings hands for it. And thus euery one remain'd contented, Vra­nia, longing to see Parselius, and yet not daring to demand any thing of him, till one day, (and the first of their iourney) shee prettily began with Pam­philia, taking occasion vpon her owne discourse as you shall heare. But now that euery one resolues of going homeward, what can bee imagin'd of lo­uing Lucenia? whose heart is now almost burst with spite, and rage, which she shewed to the King himselfe, when he came to take leaue of her, telling her that it must be his ill fortune to part with her, that being finished which brought him thither. She answer'd, it was true, it was finished now to her knowledge, which she doubted not had had many ends with such foolish creatures as her selfe, els said she, had I neuer beene deluded with your flatteries. I neuer said he, protested more then I perform'd. It was my fol­ly then, said she, to deceiue my selfe, and wrong mine owne worth, with letting my loue too much expresse it selfe, to giue aduantage for my losse, when as if you had first sued, your now leauing mee might haue beene falshood, where as it is onely turnd to my shame, and losse. I am sorry said hee, I shall part thus much in your displeasure, since I know I once was more fauour'd of you. You cannot right me more, said shee, then to goe, and gone, neuer more to thinke of me, vnlesse your owne Conscience call vpon you. It will not I hope reply'd Amphilanthus, be ouerburdened with this weight, since I will (now as euer I did) obey you, and so braue Lady fare­well [Page] well. Shee would not wish him so much good, who now shee hated, so as onely making him a small reuerence they parted, the Prince going to the Kings and Queenes who attended for him, the King of Ciprus bringing them to the Sea, the morning before their taking Shipp, presenting them with the Shepherds, and Shepherdesses of those Plaines, who after their manner sang and sported before them, to the great delight of all, especially Pamphilia, who much louing Poetry, liked their pretie expressions in their loues, some of which she caused to be twise song, and those that were at the banquet, (which was made vpon the Sands, they being seru'd by those harmelesse people) to be written out, which were two songes, and one Di­alogue deliuered betweene a neate, and fine Shepheard, and a dainty louing Lasse, it was this.

An other delicate Mayd, with as sweet a voyce, as her owne louely [...]weetnes, which was in her, in more then vsuall plentifulnesse, sang this [...]ong, being as it seemd fa [...]ne out with Loue, or hauing some great qua­ [...]ell to him.

This was much commended, and by the Ladies well liked of, onely Amphilanthus seem'd to take Loues part, and blame the mayde for accusing him vniustly, especially, for describing him with so much lightnesse. Then to satisfie him, a spruce Shepherd began a Song, all the others keeping the burden of it, with which they did begin.

This did infinitely please the braue King; so cunningly, and with so many sweet voyces it was sung: then the banquet ended, they tooke leaue of the kind King of Ciprus, and his company, all the rest taking ship with Pamphilia, sailing directly to Rodes, where they receiued vnspeakable welcome, being feasted there eight dayes together, and for show of their true welcome, the Duke of that Iland bestowed his consent for marriage of his daughter, with her long beloued friend Polarchus, whose ioy and content was such, as the other amorous Knights wisht to know. Then tooke they their leaues of the Duke, and all the Rodean Knights and Ladies, taking their way to Delos, Polarchus promi­sing within short time to attend them in Morea.

ALL this iourney did Vrania passe with much griefe in­wardly suffered, and so borne, desirous to know where her loue was, yet bashfull, durst not aske, till one day Perissus sitting betweene her and Limena, tooke occasi­on to speake of his first finding her, and so of the obliga­tion they remaind tied vnto her in, for all the fortunes they enioyd; and so from that, to speake of the rescue Parselius brought Limena at her last breathing, as shee thought. I wonder (said Vrania) where that Prince is, since so many braue men being here, mee thinkes hee should not bee absent; nor could I haue thought any but himselfe might haue ended this aduenture. Truly (said Pe­rissus) when we parted with him, I neuer saw a more afflicted man then hee was (except once my selfe), and all was for the losse of you. I thought ra­ther (said she) he had been offended with vs for aduenturing; which well he might, considering by that folly we lost him. Nay, said Allimarlus (who was then come to them), hee had no cause to blame you, hauing committed as great an error, and the same, himselfe, then told hee all the story to her, of what had past after the drinking the water, and so much as he knew, or heard by others of him, while he was heard of. Then came Pamphilia and Amphi­lanthus, who went on with the discourse, that now Vrania was resolued, and assured of his affection, which so much ioyd her, as the absence of him grew the more terrible to afflict her.

Then to Delos they came, whose milke-white rockes looked smooth with ioy to receiue within their girdle, the worlds treasure of worth, now being in their presence richer, then when most treasure was within her: then tooke they directly to the Pallace, at the entring into the vault meeting the graue Melissea, who with her maides ca [...]rying torches of white waxe, conducted the Prince through that into the Gardens, all now in hope or feare to know their fortunes. Vrania desiring to know her selfe; Pamphilia to be resolued, whether she should gaine by her loyalty. Amphilanthus when he should en­ioy, and Antissius longing to be assured, if hee should haue Selarina, who as much desired the same knowledge of gaining him, such affection had growne [Page 148] betweene them, he being (as shee did verily perswade her selfe) the selfe same little King, that beckned to her out of the enchanted Garden. Allimarlus must by any meanes be gaind by the Shepheardesse.

Thus they all expecting, and Perissus happily enioying, they continue in the Pallace, while the graue Hermit must next haue time to tell his story to distressed Parselius, in this manner beginning.

My louing and afflicted sonne, heare your poore friend say, his name is De­tareus, borne in Dalmatia, and Lord of Ragusa: I was bred a Courtier, and accordingly thriued; repentance being at last their best fortunes. In that Court I liued in good fauour with the king, and honoured with the office of Steward of his house: Children I had, and all other contents: but at last my wife died, and so did the best of my happinesse; for alas, soone after fell my miseries to increase; and for the greater sharpnes of them, to be thus spring­ing from my owne best remaining comfort: for I call'd to my chamber my dearest daughter, (Bellamira by name) to be with me, and to gouerne my ser­uants; but she hauing such beauty, as to be a fit bait to catch misfortune, and bring it to me, the king liked her; which I perceiuing, hasted to bestow her, and so I did on a great heire, who was called Treborius, with whom she hap­pily liued.

But this King still louing her, and as a louer seeking all meanes to gaine his mind, neuer spared feastings, and all occasions, to draw company to the Court; yet all was because she must be there, otherwise were none in his opi­nion present: her husband also was extreamely fauoured by him in outward show, and his house often visited by his Maiesty. He saw it: but seeing his wiues vertue spotlesse, ouer-lookt the temptations, which were but as two Glasses, set to see both sides of her noblenesse, and worthy chastitie. Much adoe there was, all eyes beheld it, all spake of it, all admired her. I discerning this, at last gaue ouer the Court, scorning to bee vsed in the slights, which were for her dishonour, and mine in hers: I retyrd, she then hauing no fit occasion to visit the Court, did likewise so. No country sports faild to giue delight, I oft-times with her, and her louing husband; they oft with mee.

But now must these bee crost, not being fit for subiects to liue in content, when the Prince is not pleased; to break which, he sent me Embassador to Ita­ly, to the king of Naples, father to the glory of Princes, your matchles cosin; her husband he employed another way, hoping to win her in our absence: but herein he was deceiued, for she would not haue the shadow of such times afforded him, wherefore she went with her husband, thereby that plot was hindred, and the kings immoderate affection crossed; but whereby my mi­sery most increased was, that in my Embassage I fell in loue with a Lady, whose sweetnes and delicacie was able to haue made Troylus false. This Lady I loued, this Lady (happiest destiny as I then vnwisely coniectured loued me) but alas, she had a husband, a terrible and wretched barre in the way of those loose and wicked enioyings which we coueted yet so we ordered our affaires, as wee came to haue priuate conference, and many seuerall mee­tings.

This Lady was of Apulia, and one, who if the enioying her were death, and life the missing it, death had bin sweeter, and more to haue bin prised. As [Page 149] I went to the Court, I saw her, she after came thither, at the assemblie which was for my entertainement. Wee liked, loued, and enioyed: then did I not faile, to seeke all meanes to win, and keepe her husbands fauour, which was the way for my blessing: hee embraced it, and truly I must confesse, vsed mee so well, as had any other matter been the end of my deceiuing, but what was, I should haue been sorry, so to haue abus'd his trust.

But what shall I say; you know loue, and therefore braue Sir pardon it, or rather the relation of that which was in mee; so much power had this affe­ction in mee, as I drew out the time of my stay to last, weauing the longest web that faining occasions could allow mee, the spider loue working for me.

But now comes my affliction in loue, and yet happinesse in the end, for time grew for my departing, which word I may iustly vse, since it was like death (or that it selfe) to mee, or any passionate seruant. To his house I was inuited in my way home (wee yet hauing remaind at Rome) thi­ther wee went, and made as many dayes iourneyes as wee could, still to win of time: at last wee there arriued, where want was none, if fault; onely I found the continuall company of her good man, that which I disliked, yet wee conuersed freely (as well wee might) before him, hee being as free, as noble courtesie could desire expression in: but we were not fully contented with this, wherefore wee would venture for more, which cost all; for hee lying from his Wife that night, by reason of care to her, lest continuall businesse might disquiet her. I hauing notice of it, when all were in their beds, and sweete silence spread with sleepe ouer all the house, I rose out of my lodging, and softly went vnto her Chamber, where I found her sleeping, at my comming to the bed side; shee awaked, but how did shee blame mee? (and yet truly I belieue, it was the hazard I had put my selfe in, shee more accused, and chid, then my selfe): for shee did not too cruelly reiect mee, though earnestly she intreated, nay coniurd my sudden retyring, which I after some howers yeel­ded vnto, taking my leaue of her with as sad and dying affection, as if I had foreseene the ensuing harme, which thus happened.

I had at my rising lighted a Candle, which careleslie (my mind on­lie on my aduenture) I left burning on the Cubbord in my Chamber; this light by miserable mischance wasting it selfe to my ruine, burned so into it selfe, as not being able to sustaine, or in mallice falling downe to throw mee to the bottome of all destruction, tooke hold of the Car­pet, so setting that on fire (the blaze aspiring to my ende), fired the hangings, they hating the iniurie, the guest they honoured had done to their owne Lord, in angrie flames made testimony of their loyaltie to their Master, giuing him knowledge by their light to see my fault, and to bee as torches for the conducting him vnto my misery. The fire great, the smoke greater, and which more hastily flew about to call wit­nesses of their innocencies, raised the seruants; they, their Master; he care­full of me, sent to my chamber to call me to safetie, but more respecting his wife (as dearest to him) went himselfe to saue her, when at the doore, how vn­welcome a meeting had he, encountring in mee, the robber of his honor? Hee stood still, and in truth I must euer say, hee beheld mee rather with [Page 150] [...]orrow then fury, nor would he suffer any to be witnesse of his ill, but see­ing me vnarm'd, and onely in my Cloake, he intreated me to passe into the next roome, which I did, and seeming cheerefull enough to all els, tooke care of his House to preserue it if possible. Then brought he vnto me a suit of Cloathes, and hauing caused me to make my selfe ready, together we went forth vnnoted by any, (as well wee might, considering the businesse they had to saue the place from destruction.) When wee came into a faire Field, he with teares, thus [...]aid.

Till now had I neuer the misfortune to be acquainted with the worst of offences; which is breach of the true law of Friendship, but since I am falne into the wretchedest experience of it, I must, like the most miserable, seeke a way out of it. You cannot deny but you haue deseru'd death, and in the worst kind; yet though I may haue it, yet will I leaue the fault where it is, and in the brauest manner, wipe away the staine, which cannot be washed but with your bloud, or cleansed by my ende. Take then this Sword (throwing one to mee) and said he, defend your selfe. I besought him not to put me to such a triall; I had deseru'd no fauour, nor wishd I any to my selfe, onely that hee would honor me with giuing me my death, and spare his wife, who was (for all my shamefull attempt) vertuous, and vntouch'd. He onely shooke his head, and fetching a deepe groane, bid me leaue speach, and goe to the conclusion, which must bee death. Wee fought (for my part) with so much foule guiltinesse, as me thought, strength, cunning, all good, and vnderstanding had abandon'd me: hee furious, re­uengefull, (and as I preceiu'd, greedy of ende) pursued me, who onely held my Sword, not to offend, but to defend me, till some (who I descern'd not farre off) could come to part vs; but he likewise seeing them, ran [...]o fiercely at me, as I must either lay my selfe open to take death, or holding but my Sword out, giue him his end, which I most vnwillingly did, forc'd to it by the frailty of the Flesh, which in the apparent dangers, is alwaies kindest to it selfe. Those I saw, came, and iust to take vp his body, and who (alas) followed them, but the poore Lady? extremity of shame bringing her to shew her shame: She seeing him slaine, cry'd out, O spare not me, who am the wofull cause of all this misery, let me at last be thus farre blessd, as by your hand to be sent againe vnto him, from whom your sinne and mine haue parted me, neuer let so detestable an offence rest vnpunished? Shame calls vpon you, and calls to me for satisfaction.

The seruants amazedly beheld vs, till she neuer ceasing accusing her selfe, nor vrging death, seeing she could not get it, kneeled downe, and taking a cold kisse from his lips, that were to her doubly dead in affection, and pale death, suddenly rose vp, and in rising taking his sword, with furious and hatefull spite to her selfe, and wrong done him, threw her selfe vpon it, falling downe vpon him, ioyning in that manner her broken vow againe in a new one, with their ends. Then did the seruants finde the cause, whereupon they set on me, for I would not yeeld to goe with them, choosing, and de [...]iring rather to dye with them, then outliue them in such shame; but too happy, and contrary to my wish was my destinie, for I slew them. Being then left with the two dead bodies, I fell into such complaints, as sorrow, and shame, could procure in me, crying out, where affliction hath iudg'd [Page 151] it self in being excell'd, as in my misery; why should it not haue end in death? then gaue I my selfe many wounds, neuer ceasing wounding, while my wounded soule abided in my body; at least the soule of humane sense, for so it onely prou'd, for others following their Master and Mistris, found vs all in the entertainment of wounds, palenesse mixt with bloud in the outside, in stead of the more naturall habitations, the veines hauing made open flouds to drowne themselues in, as a riuer may swell against it selfe, to loose her owne name, and yeeld it to a greater by her owne Pride.

Their bodies they carried away, mine remain'd like a tatter'd Ensigne, ra­ther a glory of gaine then losse, and so poore a thing was I: but a chari­ble man more louing goodnesse then me, and yet louing me for goodnesse sake, (to make me haue a better ending then in bloud) tooke my martyr'd body away: with bathings, and many more fine curiosities he brought mee to know I liu'd, to be more knowing my dayly dying. In a little Cell hee recouer'd me, but to no more health, then to be able to goe thence, for lon­ger I would not stay, then I had ability to goe away. I discouer'd nothing of my selfe to him, but by him all that had passed after I left sense till his recouering me; the generall report was, I was burn'd, some fewe said mur­dred, all agreed I was lost, and in that was true agreement, for so I was, and am. Then left I Apulia, and in Hermits Cloathes roam'd vp and downe, till I lighted on this place, neuer finding any that could content mee but this: What since became of my poore Daughter, her misfortunes, or blessings, I can giue no account of, but I feare the worst, since one day, one instant, and one Planet gouernd, and gaue our births, onely 2 [...]. yeares differing in time; here haue I since remaind, and till now, neuer disclosed my selfe, nor would haue done to you, had not your freedome first ingag'd me: repen­tance hath beene my blessed delight, hauing enioyed that, as plentifully, and comfortably as euer ioy was to soules.

Now sir, you see before you, where misery hath not beene sparing, where afflictions haue not faild their greatest bounty in excessiuenesse, and where only comfort of a happy repentance rules, and giues a sweeter consolation, then worldly pleasures could with all glorious paintings giue liking. Then did Parselius againe grieue for him, and yet comfort sprung; as after a hard Frost, flowres though dead, may appeare liuing, retaining some warmth in the roote, as in his breast: that he might, with gray haires know a change from misaduentures to a pure content.

Thus they continued, sometimes Parselius wayling, sometimes the Her­mit relating his Stories past, hee bent to comfort, the other to Dispaire, though sometimes a little moou'd to hope, but with as small strength, as life hath in the last gaspe.

But now must Steriamus, and his companion find their way to their desti­ned reliefe, following the course ordained for them; they took to the Sea, & so toward St. Maura: Steriamus euer bringing into his sight, the sweetnesse and brauenesse of Pamphilia, blessing Mellissea for sending him to such a hea­uen of ioy as to see her, and with her fauour to speake to her, and for his happinesse to kisse her hand, shee mildly permitting him. O (said he) Steria­mus now shalt thou end happily (if so thy Destiny bee) since thou hadst a kind parting from thy better selfe. Then beheld he the Sea, which calme [Page 152] and smooth gaue them quiet passage: so, said he, appeard my Mistris, gently letting my good come vnto me, to passe me vnto an vnlooked for content. Dearest Loue [...] how doth sweetnesse better fit with you, where truest sweet­nesse dwels, then harsh cruelty? Then did night possesse them, but so still an one, and so brightned by the fauour of the faire Moone, who seem'd chastly to behold her selfe in the smooth face of the Sea, which yet some­times left her plainnes, rising, as catching at her face; or, as with loue to em­brace it, or rather keepe her in her dwellings, wherein shee was deceiu'd: for fauours are not euer so free, as though lent, to be possess'd for euer, and thus greedy was I (said he) but she as chastly refused me, yet did their sight bring some Verses into his minde, which were these.

Hauing done them, he said them to Dolorindus, whose thoughts were as busily employd in the same kinde; now were they come within sight of St. Maura, wherefore Steriamus demanded of the Marriners, if they knew the white Rocke, they did, and so in the long Boate carried them vnto it, where landing them they departed; the Princes taking to the topp of it, viewing it, and the ruines; admiring what they should doe in that desolatnesse, where they found no man, no place for man to bide in saue one little Caue, where [...] into they went, and sitting downe they afresh discoursed of their Fortunes: Steriamus relating to his companion, the manner of his liuing in Pantaleria, in the little Caue, and so his youth, but when he touched of Pantaleria, he could not passe it ouer without some passionate remembrance of it, where he [Page 153] only liued free, and therefore as hee called it happy. Delightfull Pantaleria (would he crie, when I remaind in thee, how was I Lord of my selfe, and so of all quiet content? dayes were then past in hunting, or some other countrie delights, which now waste in being hunted by afflictions: no paine knew I, if not by surfetting of pleasure, yet proued I a man esteeming change my greater happinesse, when braue Parselius with the rarest of women, except my Lady released me from ignorance, bringing me into the world, to be the riper in miseries fruite, what happinesse (in comparison of the woe we Prin­ces suffer) doth remaine in a country life? O Pantaleria would I had still re­maind in thee, or would I had neuer knowne delights, which were still sprin­ging in thee, like thy dainty flowers, and tender grasse which increased in plenty of sweetnes, being corrected for the little height it some times got, by the tender sheep, as my sorrowes abound by the cruelty of my dearest loue. Cruell loue, Ah cruelst of cruelties, why end you not your tyrannies, or let tyrannie end, with ending me? Cursed be the time I euer suffered the vn­rightfull Monarchy of loue to gouerne me, & thus to soueraignize ouer me, giuing wounds, and a little easing them, as to make one hope, the danger of death were past, of purpose to make them more intollerable in the suffe­ring, els why brought you me from ioy to misery? then a little to enioy a glimmering hope to be put into a darker night of sorrow with parting from it, els might you haue left me in the sweet Morea, when Pamphilia smiled on me? Loue you inuited me, but steru'd me, you againe feasted mee, but poy­son'd me, forcing me to drinke of absence. You (said Dolorindus) doe lament, as if alone you were appointed to suffer, or alone did indure affliction, when too couetously you hoard vnto your treasure, what belongs to other men; you call loue a tyrant, when you are a greater, taking away the inheritance of others, as from me your friend, who haue as much right to misery as any, li­uing in as great excesse of it, and hauing as large possessions in that gouern­ment: then spare me liberty to complaine with you, permit mee to say mis­fortune is as much mine as yours, and then like fellow subiects let vs bewaile the weight of that vniust tyranny. Pardon mee deare friend (said he [...]), if I would wholly take ill to my selfe, since it is to free you, and all worthy peo­ple from that, which I am fittest to beare, as a creature fram'd for the vassa­lage of Loue, and his crueltie: but since you aske liberty to bewaile, take it, and let that bring your freedome, while it redoubles on my breast, as being mine and yours, tell mee then all your woe, and know you speake to woe it selfe in speaking vnto me. Then Dolorindus (beginning with the set order of louers, which is with sighes and teares) began his discourse thus. Free from the knowledge of harme, it was my hap to meete a Lady, hunting in a great Forrest, attended on by many braue Gentlemen and Knights; but being more then woman-like excellent in riding, she had left her Ladies, or rather they had left her, not able to attend her in that surpassing quality. I young, and affecting sport, fell into the company, marking more that braue Diana then the chase shee followed, which was of a Stagge, who though hee tooke pride in being so pursued, and that it was in him to make her follow, stoutly commanded her atten­dance, yet cowardly flying from her, thinking it better to trust to his speed then her mercy, yet was he rewarded at last fit for his merit, for stan­ding [Page 154] at bay, as if to threaten her doggs, and euen before her face gazing on her, she stroke him with a Crossebow to the heart; then weepingly hee fell downe at her feete, groaning for her vnkindnesse: yet was not this the cru­elst blow she gaue, for (O me) shee did likewise wound my breast. Then came they all about her, admiring the hurt, while I admired, any seeing her, could liue vnwounded. Some prais'd the hounds that so truly hunted: I prais'd mine eyes that neuer were at fault, till they brought home the honor of the day, which was the losse of my poore heart, hunted by mine eyes vnto that bay.

When all the rights were done, and doggs rewarded (I alone vnsatisfied for my great gift), shee nobly intreated the company to goe with her vnto her house, which all agreed vnto, and my selfe vnknowne to any there, tooke my way with them, boldly aduenturing on that inuitation. We sat downe at dinner, all the discourse was still vpon the sport that morning, the Stagge afforded them, to which I gaue a poore assistance, for hauing been bred a­broad to learning, and to armes, I was an vnexperienced hunts-man, which she marked, and accordingly made vse of, telling mee, that sure the hunting was not pleasing to me, or the want of that exercise had made me vnskilfull in the discourse. I said, the latter was the true reason, for till that day I neuer saw that sport, though I had knowne the field delights in many sorts. Then fell she to discourse of martiall things, being excellently learned in all the Arts, knowledge no way scanting her. Thus dinner past, when horses a­gaine were brought forth, and she waited on by vs, went forth to see Haukes flee, spending the after-noone in that delight, inuiting vs againe with her, when before supper, choyce of musique was bestowed vpon vs: all these did well, and best to serue her best beloued selfe; but these (alas) prou'd but more hurts to mee, making mee by them see my greater losse, loue like a se [...] ­pent poysoning my ioyes, and biting my best daies, venomd all my blisse, making my new pris'd wound death to my hopes, and sorrow to my soule.

Pitie I wanted, pitie I sought, but pity durst not ask; and thus did griefe take me, & in me make abiding: commiseration was the mark I aimed at, but feare held my hand: I saw her faire and delicate, and therfore imagined soft pity to be within so sweet a cage; yet had her eies such powerful might, as gaue com­mand, that none should dare to claime so rich a blisse; ouerwhelmed with the cruelst spite that Nature could inflict vpon a man, I remaind, which was fild with a youthfull bashfulnesse, which ouerswaied my humblest heart, disasters glorying in my patient suffering, excessiuenesse of sorrow flowing in me, for now was the time to part; or if I would remaine, I must not hide my selfe, or longer stay vnknowne; for then was her husband to returne from a iourney made vnto the neighbour Ile, wherefore I thought it not amisse (the com­pany all gone) to take my time, and thus I spake vnto her.

If that which I must say should turne to giue offence, accursed would I thinke the time, and words I go about to vtter; but comming from a man wholly deuoted to your seruice, I hope they will produce such ends, as they are now directed to, and so may make me blessed, if blessing can descend on one so much vnblest yet as my self: this time wherin I haue enioied the full of outward ioy beholding you, hath yet brought loues attendants, losse & feare [Page 155] with it, losse of my libertie tyed wholly to your wil, & feare in my heart, if you despise my loue; cause of affection I can challenge none for me, if not in gra­titude to me, who giue my self for it, a strangers name may make you scorne me, not knowing worth in me, but boldnesse, fitting all contempt; these yet you may cast by, for this stranger, your seruant, am sonne to the King, and your humblest louer Dolorindus. She (who before did in her lookes mani­fest the breeding of a curst reply) a little smoothed the tempest of her rage, and wi [...]h sober reuerence, demanded pardon for her vsing me with no more respect; and yet my Lord (said she) the fault may sooner be pardoned, since 'twas you which were the cause of it. Then did I againe solicit: she modest­ly, but confidently much refus'd. Her husband then arriued, who knowing mee gaue free and noble welcome; I sought how still to induce the man to loue my company, and to seeke it, which hee did also, hauing his ends, which surely he might gaine, so I might compasse mine; to which (for all her chast replies, and curious preseruing of her honour in her words), at last I did ob­taine, and so her loue, in as equall measure, as mine was to her, which was without compare, had hers not equald it.

Thus it continued for some yeeres; all the mirth and sports that were in Negropont, were still at her Castle; Maskes, Iusts, Huntings, nothing can bee thought on, that was not in plenty at her house. My selfe (though sonne vnto the king, yet my sister being to inherit the kingdome) was not so much lookt after (if not by no [...]le minds) as shee who was to rule; so as I gain'd by that meanes, both more freedome, and lesse ouer-seers of my actions. To a Maske that wee had there, wherein I was, a Lady came, whose ill 'twas to fal in loue me, and so violently did it flame, as it grew dangerous; if she were re­fus'd, a womans hate (which is the deadliest) I was to expect; if I consented, iust disdaine from my deare selfe I was to merit. Hate could not stirre mee to such ill, but feare (lest it would blaze vnto her hurt) made me yeeld some content. In these two straites I was: if I would haue asked leaue, and told the cause, it yet might purchase doubt: if I denied, certaine hurt ensued. To auoid both, I did kindly vse her, and such words spake before my onely loue, as I did wish, that she should vnderstand, while still the other tooke them to her selfe.

Thus it was well: but how could well long last with me? from this well grew my worst ill, and that ill, all my woe; for my loues husband grew to doubt his wife, which well he might: for though she were assured, or truly might be of my faith to her; yet could shee not but sometime shew dislike, that she sought to win me, or that she should aspire to be her riuall loue; this made that secret deare affection seen, which so long had laine close, wrapped vp alone in knowledge of our soules. Hee had no sooner found this, but hee straight studdied by skill to be reueng'd, and yet to seeme still ignorant of the plot; and thus his wicked practise he began. A solemne feast hee made, which was to last for twelue whole dayes, the reason he alleaged was this: an old man once did say (whose skill was very great in the Art of Diuination, as 'twas held), that he should neuer liue to fiftie yeares of age; which time being then expired, this feast for that cause was appointed. Many Ladies thi­ther were inuited with their Lords, and many knights, who were to win faire Ladies, and with the rest this amorous Lady came, whose welcome to my [Page 156] loue was like hers vnto me. I grieud that shee was there, because I saw shee did displease her eyes, who firmely held my heart. The Lord (whose name was Redulus) neuer shewed better cheere, his heart neuer more foule, nor thoughts more [...]ulled with base fram'd tricks. At the first show, which was by candle light, and neither Masque nor properly any one thing, but a min­gle of diuers sorts; I sate betweene those two, whose loues in seuerall kindes I held: my Ladies intruth mix'd with a little feare, the other in violence heated with dislike. I had but one loue, yet of force shew'd two; faith and sincere affection to my choyce dissembled: and a faign'd respect to her had chosen me. The husband watching all and catching with as ma­ny seuerall watches, our close looks, as spiders flyes, with numbers of her webs: then did his wit begin to play that part allotted to it selfe, which was to throw a spitefull iarre among vs three, which was effected by this diuili [...]h meanes; flouting the Lady whom my soule best loued, telling her how shee had made such a choyce hee could not blame her for, since hee a Prince, a dainty youth, a neate and courtly Knight, delicate, amorous, how can hee bee s [...]ene without admiring, and then louing? yet truely wife, said he, I better doe deserue your loue, since I haue loued but you, and you haue many partners in his loue: I speake not this for iealousie, nor am I an­gry with it, or displeased, but onely pitty you who are deceiu'd. Courtiers you know will loue choyce of Mistresses, alas what lucke haue you to fall in­to this snare? to loue, and to be couzened of your loue, by one you make your friend, and sweet companion? iustly yet this is done, that you afford your friend a part in all. Selinea (for so was she, deere shee my, Lady cal'd) knew not at first with what face, or in what kind to receiue these words; the husband first was the informer, the businesse his dishonour, the losse hers, the fault her louers, these call'd her sharpest and best pleased wits to ayde, at last shee thus did say. My Lord, you say you pity me in this kinde; were I guilty, you had more iust cause to hate me, for truth in men (except your selfe) their truths and falshoods are indifferent to me, hauing no fur­ther reason to commend, prize, or dislike them, but for vertues sake, and so am I in my owne opinion blessed in your loue, as I should despaire of bles­sing if I deseru'd it not in the same height of loyalty: for the Prince, he hath (it is true) many noble parts able to win womens affections, but yet none such where true worth remaines, as to diuert them from a vertuous life, since that leaues the name & property when it runs to change. If I were single, it might be I should as soon like him as any other; but I lou'd you, and loue you, neuer to change from that loue: therefore I pray you take home your before-giuen pitty, and bestow it where it wants, since I haue yet no vse of it, and continue that loue you did beare me, which shall be requited with as lasting a faith in me. He who expected rather a curst and sharpe answer, then so milde an one, tooke her in his armes, and kissing her, swore, hee lou'd her well before, but now his heart was wholly hers: thus shee, as shee hop'd, had satisfied him, who seem'd contented, but his minde was no more then before quieted; for then hee went to Melinea, and talking with her, discour­sed how infinitely hee was afflicted with the wrong that Dolorindus did him in his reputation and honour, courting of his wife so publikely, and stri­uing to discredit him vnto the world, and so vndoe his happinesse at home, [Page 157] which hee enioyed while Selinea lou [...]d him: but now such power had the earnest and importunate loue of the Prince gained ouer her weake powers to resist, as hee had made her his. But yet sayd Melinea he loues her not assuredly, as you imagine. Bee not deceiu'd sweet Melinea, said Redulus; for neuer did man more passionately affect then Dolorindus doth, did you but see his sleights, nay his passions if they faile, you would sweare no man did violently loue but hee; his sighs, with folded armes, and stealing lookes, discouers what hee feeles. How haue I seene him when he talk'd with you, and kiss'd your hand, throw euen his soule out at his eyes to her? Surely, my Lord said shee, you cannot see this, but you doe speake it onely to trye if I would proue so vnworthy as to ioyne with you in doubt of her, who is as good as faire. No I protest said hee, I speake as I belieue and know; but yet I am assur'd that his loue is the greater, and the cause that shee did euer bend to thinke of loue: A Princes name is able to attract a chast-borne [...]aide to know loues heate and force; what then can loue and strong affe­ction ioyn'd win on a woman? Take you heede faire maid, loue is a power that will, though once gainsaid, the second time come in with armes, and make your chastest thoughts contribute to his taxe, had you beene in the chamber, or but mark'd the piercing darts hee sent by lookes of loue, such as had beene enough to burne a heart that would contend, but yeelding, to make ioy glory in greater pride, then euer ioy did know. I found some ver­ses too, which hee hath made, and giuen his mistresse; by them you may ghesse in what estate his restlesse burning soule continues flaming to my vt­ter shame, and ruine of my name.

Then tooke hee forth some verses which indeed I doe confesse I made and most vnfortunately lost; those lines gaue full assurance of the truth, and bred as true a hate in her to vs, which though she stroue to couer and dissemble, (with show of sorrow onely for my griefe) yet hee perceiu'd, as hauing eyes of Art, and those directed by a diuellish wit, these found what hee did seeke; then wrought hee still on that, and so at last came to his pra­ctise end; which happened the day before the feast had full conclusion in this haplesse kind.

The iealous and despightfull Melinea, when dancing did begin, of purpose let the paper fall, but so as Selinea must bee next to take it vp, which soone she did, and opening it, discerned it was my hand, and that the sub­iect of those lines was loue, which was most true, but alas falsly held from her, to whom they, and my firmest thoughts, were onely bent and dedica­ted, with affections zeale, and zealous loue; these and my negligence in not seeking to confirme her trust, confident of her loue, made her alas belieue too soone.

The paper was with faigned anger snatched quickly from my mistris, shee with blushing said, Why Melinea, I thought you had not beene one so much giuen to Poetry till now? I made them not said shee; No, (sighing said the other) I know that, with which shee looked on mee, but with so cruell eyes, (and yet affection went with them, though sha­dowed with her scorne, which might be pitty call'd.) These strake my heart in sunder with their sight: (O mee, cryed I) haue I fram'd these to spoyle my fortunes which should haue procur'd my blisse, by telling [Page 158] what I could not vtter? speach tyed by a power of a greater might. Alas that euer I did take a penne in hand to be the Traytor to my ioy; this griefe made me as guilty seeme by shame and silence, which did then possesse my most distracted senses, as if I had been as false as they made me appeare. The dauncing went still on, but she (who was the best) like to her heart she rul'd her feete, in sad and walking pace; now was the plot well forward, hee wrought still, and finding fault there was no nimbler sports, came and in­treated me to take his wife, and so begin a more delightfull daunce. Hee saw my griefe, she found his drift, two hated mee to death, all were disor­derd, but I onely lost; thus pass'd the night, the morning come, to part we were directed by our words giuen at the meeting. Faine I would haue spo­ken, but shee who thought me false, auoided it, and gaue but liberty to say farewell, which euen with teares I did: She loath now to behold me, who of late she lou'd, cast downe her eyes, not gracing me with one poore looke, which though disgracefull, yet as hers, had beene more welcome then the sweetest smiles that euer louer ioyd in from his Loue. Thus we were parted to dispaire and losse, yet meant I not to leaue my mistris so, but quickly found a meanes to visit her, when she continuing still her cruell frownes to mee, I got yet liberty by my cares watch, to speake with her, although against her minde; but then more cruell then the fiercest Lyons enrag'd by famine, did bring forth these words.

False man (said shee) haue you not yet enough, that your deceipt hath come vnto mine eyes? For, false you are, else had you lou'd me still, you would haue diligently cleer'd this doubt: but O you thinke this not enough, nor I sufficiently afflicted with your fault, but more you would intice me for more paine, glory in your iniustice, and make triumphes for your ill, blaze to the world the sinne of your ingratitude, and change, and that once done, hope then to winne againe; but who? none but so lucklesse, and vnblessed a soule as I was, who did trust you, cruell you, the worst, and falsest of your changing sexe.

This being said, but force could hold her; wherefore for feare of fur­ther rage, I let her goe, remaining like the Creatures Metamorphos'd into stones. Yet at last, I went into my Chamber, and there framd some lamen­table lines, to let her see, how cruelly shee had with scorne, and strange mistaking, martyr'd mee. When I deliuered them, shee tooke them with these words, Ile reade them, said shee, onely to perceiue how well your vaine continues in this change; or, if you please, Ile be you messenger and giue them Melinea from your selfe. These wounded mee more then the sharpest Sword, but more alas, grew my mishapp: for she hating so much, as once before she lou'd, desir'd me to loue my selfe so well, as to refraine to shew my eyes to her, where so much false ingratitude did dwell, and for my sake, shee would not onely doe the like for mee in keeping from my sight, (least I with seeing her should see my shame) but would for my foule fault, hate all mens loues; this I besought her to recall, she said, it fixed was: then went I thence and mourned a while vnseene; at last, my Fathers mise­rie called me to succour him, that done, againe, I sought to gaine her par­don, but alas, in vaine, for she resolud to nothing but my griefe, shunn'd as she promisd my then loathed sight. After her husband dyed, I then did woe [Page 159] her, offered marriage, sought with more then Vassal-like desire, but nothing mooud her, vntill loue againe did take anew the conquest of her heart, ma­king her contrary to all her likings, (which shee till then had publish'd) choose a braue yong Lord, in truth a worthy man, but contrary in all the outward markes which heretofore she said could winne her loue.

When I saw this, I knew there was no hope, I left her, and the Coun­trey, blaming fate that thus had made me causelesly accursed. Farewell (said I) deere Lady of my soule, and farewell all loue to your wayward sex, where iudgement liues but in the shallow being of an outward sight; curst is that man that puts least trust in you: more certainely the ficklest weather hath, more staidnesse feathers, and more profit drops of raine in Snow which melts with it, while you spoile onely me: thus I departed when she married last, and then for her sake vowed, as she had done, but with more manly constancy, to hold a true and a loyall oath, neuer to loue, or chuse a Crea­ture of so light a kinde, as generally all women bee, the best alone being good, that while she's pleas'd she will giue equall loue; suspitious s [...]xe, and fondly ignorant, that will not know the truth, least truth should shew the fault, in base suspecting without cause.

Stay, stay, said Steriamus, you grow curst against the louelyest, sweetest, happiest birth, that euer earth did beare; your mother was a woman, and you must be fauour'd by an other, to be blessed with braue posterity. Wo­men, why blame you them, the dearest soules, and comforts of our soules? Loue in aboundance made you too farre crost, blame Loue then, not her scorne, which surely was not scorne but perfect griefe. Be charitable, and aske pardon for this sinne, for neuer will I giue it other name, nor suffer those blessed creatures to sustaine so great abuse, as your rage layes on them.

As thus they were in deep, and almost collerick dispute, against, and for the worth of women kinde. Parselius and the Hermit did arriue, who went that day together for some foode, but when they heard mens voyces, and both lowde, they went into the Caue, and so did end their argument with kind conclusion: for straite Parselius was discouered to his deare and louing friend, who likewise was with teares of ioy embraced, where altogether they remain'd, with loue relating still their fortunes, which did passe away the time with pleasant sweet content; for such was paine to them so tru­ly borne, as ioy had gain'd that name if offer'd them.

But now Pamphil [...]a hasteth homeward, and the greatest Lady must dis­patch her guests. The Queene of all bra [...]e beauty, and true worth, Pam­philia, thinking it long to heare her fate in Loue, yet daring not for mo­desty to aske, what most she coueted to vnderstand, fai gn'd a desire to re­turne againe vnto her People, who expected her, this also was a truth, and therefore iust excuse.

The Lady knowing most things, also found this drift, yet did as finely striue to couer it; wherefore one day dinner newly done, she tooke her company into a roome, the fairest and best furnish'd of that place, and by a witty sleight diuided them into the windowes, and some pretty places eue­ry one a sunder from their friend, each one imagining she was with 'tother, then came shee to Pamphilia and thus spake: Rarest of women for true [Page 160] loyalty, I know your longing which proceeds from loue, a [...]d grieue I doe, that I cannot be blessed with power to tell that happinesse you seeke, but Destiny that gouernes all our liues hath thus ordain'd, you might be happy, had you power to wedd, but daintinesse and feare will hinder you: I can­not finde that you shall marry yet, nor him you most affect, many afflicti­ons you must vndergoe, and all by woman kinde, beware of them, and so the better speed.

Pamphilia onely sigh'd, and turnd her blushing face vnto the window, while the Lady went vnto Vrania, to whom she thus discours'd. Fayrest, and sweetest, leaue off your laments for ignorance of your estate, and know that you are daugher to a mighty King, and sister to the brauest liuing Prince, the honour of all Knights, and glory of his Country, renowned Amphi­lanthus; the manner, and the reason of your losse, shall bee brought to you in a fitter place. Now for your loue, alas that I must say, what De­stinie foretels, you shall be happy, and enioy, but first, death in apparance must possesse your dainty bodie, when you shall reuiue with him you now loue, to another loue, and yet as good, and great as hee. Bee not offen­ded for this is your fate, nor bee displeased, since though that must change, it is but iust change, bringing it from him alike disquieted.

The Lady left her, who impatient of her ill went to Pamphilia, whom shee found still without speech, and as (if one would say) fix'd like the heauen, while the world of her thoughts had motion in her griefe. Vrania likewike vex'd in her soule, shew'd in her face the small content shee knew; they both stood gazing in each others face, as if the shining day Starre had stood still to looke her in a glasse, their bloud had left their cheeks, and sunke into their hearts, as sent in pitty downe to comfort them; at last assured confidence did come and plead for part, and so they sate and spake; while Mellissea pass'd vnto the King, to whom shee onely told that faire Vrania was his sister, and that although so deare to him, yet to make her liue contentedly, he, and none else must throw her from the Rocke of St. Maura into the Sea; feare not, but doe it (said shee) for this must make her liue, and forget her vnfortunate loue, (which vertue that water hath.) For his Loue, she did assure him hee was bless'd in that, if being certaine of her heart, could bring it him; but yet said she; Nay, say no more, cry'd he, this is enough, and let me this enioy, Ile feare no ills that Prophesies can tell.

Then went he to the window, where hee found the sad sweet couple, whom he comforted, kissing his Sister, and with eyes of ioy, telling Pamphi­lia, he was happy yet: then Ollorandus came, and so Perissus with his Queen, who Mellissea had assuredly foretold, the constant being of their happy dayes. Antissius was the ioyfull'st man aliue, for he had such a lucky fortune giuen, as to loue well, and to bee well belou'd, and what was most, to gaine that he most sought, and happily still to continue so; the like had Selarina, so as well it might be said, these of all the others had the happiest states. Good Allimarlus, and his louing loue had promise to obtaine, so all are bless'd but those to whom best blessings did belong. All thus resolu'd, they thinke of their returne; Pamphilia homewards needs would take her way, but Amphilanthus gain'd so much at last, with helpe of faire Vrania, and the rest, [Page 161] as she resolu'd to see Morea first, & therfore sent Mellisander vnto Pamphilia to satisfie the Councell of her course, and to assure them of her speedy cōming to them, after she had seene her Fathers Court; so with kind farewells they left Delos, soone after landing in Messenia, and with all this royall troope came to the aged King, whose ioy was expresselesse grown, to see this com­pany, the glory of those parts. Much did he welcome faire Vrania, glad in his heart to see her, who he knew would bring such comfort & content vnto her father, his beloued friend. Feasts were proclaim'd throughout the kingdom, Iusts, and all exercises were brought forth to welcome these braue Princes to the Court, Pamphilia's honour, honouring all the rest; yet could no [...] that, or any other ioy (though all ioyes were so plentifully there, as bare accepting had inioyed them) giue least delight to her, whose wounded heart did feede vpon the sore, was lately giuen by cursed fore-telling of her loosing fate. Into the garden woods (her old sad walke) she therefore went, and there as sadly did againe complaine. Alas Pamphilia, said shee, lucklesse soule, what cruell Planet gouernd at thy birth? what plague was borne with thee, or for thee, that thou must but haue a vertue, and loose all thereby? Yet 'tis all one, deere loue, maintaine thy force well in my heart, and rule as still thou hast: more worthy, more deseruing of all loue, there breaths not then the Lord of my true loue. Ioy then Pamphilia, if but in thy choice, and though henceforth thy loue but slighted be, ioy that at this time he esteemeth me. Then went shee to the Ash, where her sad sonnet was ingraued, vnder which she writ:

As she past on, she heard some follow her, wherefore looking backe, she discernd Vrania and Amphilanthus, to whom she straight returnd, and with them walked as while vp and downe the wood, til Amphilanthus aduised them to sit downe, so laying his Mantle on the grasse, the two incomparable Prin­cesses laid themselues vpon it, the king casting himselfe at their feete, as though the only man for truth of perfection that the world held, yet that truth made him know, that they were so to be honourd by him; then laying his head in Vrania's lap, and holding Pamphilia by the hand, he began to dis­course, which they so well liked, as they past a great part of the day there to­gether; Pamphilia still desiring him to tell of his aduentures, which hee did so passing finely, as his honour was as great in modestly vsing his victories in re­lation, as in gaining them: but when hee spake of Steriamus, his finding him and his passions, he did it so pretily, as neither could procure too much fauor for him, nor offend her with telling it, yet still did she hasten the end of those discourses, which he no whit dislikt; but Vrania desird stil to heare more par­ticularly of him, as if she had then known what fortune they were to haue to­gether; at last the king proceeded to the comming to the Iland, now cald Sta­lamine, anciently Lemnos, where (said he) the Lady is called Nerena, a woman [Page 162] the most ignorantly proud that euer mine eyes saw; this Ladies ill fortune was to fall in loue with Steriamus, who poore man was in such fetters, as her affection seemd rather a new torture, then a pleasure to him: yet left she not her suite, telling him she was a Princesse descended from the kings of Roma­nia, absolute Lady of that Iland, and for his honor (if he knew truly what ho­nour it was to him) his loue. He told her, 'Twere more credit he was sure for her, to be more sparingly, and silently modest, then with so much bold­nesse to proclaime affection to any stranger. Why (said shee) did euer any man so fondly shew his [...]olly till now, as to refuse the profferd loue of a Prin­cesse? and such an one, as if a man would by marriage bee happy, should bee onely chosen as that blessing? I am (said hee) truly ashamed to see such im­pudent pride in that sexe most to be reuerenced: but to let you know, that you too farre exceede the limits of truth and vnderstanding, by vainely o­uer-esteeming your selfe, I will assure you that I loue a Princesse, whose feete you are not worthy to kisse, nor name with so fond a tongue, nor see, if not (as the Images in old time were) with adoration; nor heare, but as Oracles; and yet this is a woman, and indeed the perfectest, while you serue for the con­trarie. How call you this creature, said she? Steriamus was so vext that plainly she cald you so, as he in very fury flung out of the house, nor for the two daies which wee staid there, afterwards euer came more in; shee perplexing him still, leauing him in no place quiet, till she got your name. Then made shee a vow to see you, and follow him, till shee could win him, letting her proud heart bow to nothing but his loue, wherein the power of loue is truely mani­fested. I would be sorry (said Pampilia) to see her vpon these termes, since she must (fild with so much spite against me) with all malice behold me. I wish she were here (said Vrania), since it is a rare thing surely to see so amo­rous a Lady.

Thus pleasantly they passed a while, till they thought it time to attend the King, who about that houre still came forth into the Hal, where they found him, and the aduenture soone following, which he last spake of: for the kings being set, there entred a Lady of some beauty, attended on by ten knights, all in Tawny, her selfe likewise apparreld in that colour; her Pages, and the rest of her seruants hauing that liuerie. The knights being halfe way to the State, stood still, making as it were a guard for the Princesse to passe through, who went directly to the king; then making a modest, but no very low reuerence, she thus spake. Although your Maiesty may well wonder, first at my com­ming, then at the cause, yet (I hope) that excuse I bring with it, will pleade for my iustification. It is not (I am most assured) vnknowne to you, although one of the greatest Christned Kings, that loues power is such, as can com­mand ouer your hearts, when to all other powers, you scorne so much as yeelding. This hath made me a subiect, though borne absolute; for whatso­euer I seeme here to be, yet I am a Princesse, and Lady of the sweet, and rich Stalamine: but alas to this Iland of mine, came three knights (knights I call thē, because they honor that title, with esteeming it higher then their own ti­tles, for Princes they were, & the rarest some of them of Princes, as when you heare them namd, you wil confesse with me). One of these, my heart betray­ing me, & it self neuer before toucht vnto the subiectiō of his loue, wherof if he had bin so fortunat as to be able to see the happines was fallē vnto him in it [Page 163] he might haue iustly boasted of it. But hee slighting what his better iudge­ment would haue reuerenc'd, refused my affection, mine, which onely was worthy of gaine, being so well knowing as to dispise liberty in giuing it selfe to any of meaner qualitie then Steriamus, whose proud refusall, yet makes me loue him, and take this iourney in his search, comming hither where I hop'd to find him, both because I heard he liued much in this Court, and that hee had bestowed his loue vpō your surpassing daughter Pamphilia; these brought me assurance to win him, hauing giuen my selfe leaue to show so much hu­mility as to follow him: next to see that beauty which he so admired, and as if in scorne contemned mine in comparison of it, which I thinke, Sir, if you well behold, you will iudge rather to merit admiration then contempt [...] Faire Lady said the King, that Prince you speake of hath been much in my Court, and not long since, but now indeed is absent, not haue we heard any thing of him, since his departure: for your loue, it is so rare a thing to bee found in one of your sexe in such constant fury, as to procure, and continue such a iourney, as that of it selfe (without the mix [...]ure of such perfections as you see in your selfe) were enough to conquer one, that could be ouercome: but for his loue to my daughter, there she is to answer you if she please, and cleare that doubt, since it is more then euer I knew that the Albanian Prince did loue her, more then in respect vnto her greatnesse. Nereana turning to Pamphilia, earnestly, and one might see curiously, and like a riuall, therefore spitefully beholding her, thus spake. Well might hee (braue Princesse) be­stow his affections where such vnusuall beauties do abide; nor now can I blame him for prostrating his heart before the throne of your excellent per­fections. Pamphilia blushed, both with modesty, and danger, yet she gaue her this answer. Madam (said she) I know you are a Princesse, for before your comming hither, I heard the fame of you, which came swifter then your self, though brought by loue: and in truth I am sorry, that such a Lady should take so great and painefull a voyage, to so fond an end, being the first that e­uer I heard of, who took so Knight-like a search in hand; men being vs'd to follow scornefull Ladies, but you to wander after a passionate, or disdainefull Prince, it is great pitie for you. Yet Madam, so much I praise you for it, as I would incourage you to proceede, since neuer feare of winning him, when so many excellencies may speake for you: as great beauty, high birth, rich pos­sessions, absolute command, and what is most, matchlesse loue, and loyaltie: besides, this assurance you may haue with you, that to my knowledge hee loues not me, and vpon my word [...] affect not him, more then as a valiant Prince, and the friend to my best friends. Thus are you secure, that after some more labour you may gaine, what I will not accept, if offered me, so much do I esteeme of your affectionate search.

These words were spoken so, as, though proud Nereana were nettled with them, yet could she not in her iudgement finde fault openly with them, but rather sufferd them with double force to bite, inwardly working vpon her pride-fild heart, and that in her eyes she a little shewed, though she suffered her knees somewhat to bow in reuerence to her. Answere shee gaue none, scorning to thanke her, and vnwilling to giue distaste; hauing an vndaunted spirit, she turned againe to the King, vsing these words.

For all this (said she) great King, I cannot thinke but Steriamus loues this [Page 164] Queene, for now doe I find a like excellent mind inclosed within that all-ex­celling body, such rarenes I confesse liuing in her beauty, as I cannot but loue his iudgement for making such a choice. and the rather do I belieue he loues her, because he affects hardest aduentures, and so impossible is it I see to win her heart, as it may prooue his most dangerous attempt, yet brauely doth he, in aspiring to the best. Then braue king, and you faire Lady, pardon me, and iudge of my fault or folly with mild eyes, since neither are mine wholly, but the Gods of loue, to whom I am a seruant. The King told her, more cause he had to commend, and admire her, then to contemne her, since for a woman it was vnusuall to loue much, but more strange to be constant. After this, and some other passages, Amphilanthus and Ollorandus came, and saluted her, gi­uing her many thankes for their royall welcome: she kindly receiued them, desiring them to giue her some light how to find Steriamus: they answered her, that from Delos, he was directed to an Iland, called St Maura, but more they knew not, nor heard of him since his going thither with another good Prince, calld Dolorindus.

Hauing this little hope of finding him, she gaue them thankes, and so took her leaue, nor by any meanes could they perswade her stay, in her soule ha­ting the sight of her, who though against her will had won, and then refu­sed that, which shee for her onely blessing did most seeke after, yet would she honour her worth, which openly she protested, but neuer affect her per­son. Thus the strange Princesse departed, neither pleased nor discontented, despising any passion but loue should dare to thinke of ruling in her: but because she must not be left thus, this story shall accompany her a while, who tooke her way to the sea, thinking it better to trust her selfe with Nep­tune, then the aduentures which might befall her, a longer iourney by land.

She taking ship at Castanica, meant to passe among the Ilands, and by power commanded the Saylers to bend their course for St. Maura, which they did, but in the night the wind changd, and grew high, turning (towards day) to a great storme, not meaning to be curst, but when the fury might be seene; thus were they with the tempest carried another way then they intended, and at last safely (though contrary to their wils) being in the Mediterran sea, were cast vpon Cecily, at a famous place cald Saragusa. Then she, who saw there was no way to contend against heauenly powers, would not in discre­tion chafe, though blame her fortune: on land shee went to refresh her selfe, and so passed toward the Citie of Seontina, where shee determined to stay some dayes, and then proceede, or rather returne in her iourney, the weather being hot, and trauell tedious.

One dayes iourney being past, shee wild her seruants to set vp her tents, hard by a Wood side, where shee had the benefit of that shade, and before her a delicate greene Playne, through the which ran a most plea­sant Riuer: shee liking this place, which (as shee thought) humbly by delights sought to inuite her stay in it, as a Woman that would take what content shee could compasse, for that time laid aside State, and to recreate her selfe after her owne liking, went into the Wood, pre­tending, her thoughts would not bee so free, as when shee was alone, and therefore bid her seruants attend her returne: they willing to o­bay [Page 165] her, and best pleased when twas for their ease, let her goe, who ta­king the directest way into the heart of the Wood, and so farre, (not for the length of the way, but the thicknes, and the likenesse of the paths, and crossings) as she wandred in amaze, and at last quite lost her selfe, straying vp and downe, now exercising the part of an aduenturous louer, as Pam­philia in iest had call'd her, a thousand thoughts at this time possessing her, and yet all those as on a wheele turnd, came to the same place of her des­perate estate. One while she curs'd her loue, then dislike of her folly, for aduenturing, and rashly leauing her Country: she raild at the vncareful peo­ple who permitted her to haue her fond desires without limiting her power, but that she check'd againe, for said she, rather would I be thus miserable, then not absolute. Blame her Desteny she extreamely did, reuiling her birth, and all that euer she had gloried in, except her selfe, with whom her owne ouer-valuing conceipt, would neuer let her quarrell; she wish'd Ste­riamus vnborne, or that her eyes had neuer seene him, spitefully imagined Pamphilia had bewitched her: in summe, often times cursing all, seldome or neuer speaking, or thinking good of any, all good thoughts wholy bent to her owne flattery, which by that, were made ill. Vow she did to turne away all her seruants and take new Sycillians to attend her, but that was as quickly corrected, wishing she had her old ones with her, only now desiring to bee at Lemnos, where shee might freely speake ill of that Enchantresse Pamphilia, who hath (said she) with her beauty ouerthrowne my loue, and lastly forespoken my iourney and the finding of Steriamus.

Thus chafing, rayling, cursing, and at last crying for anger or feare, shee straglingly continued till night shewed her sad face, threatning more cruelty for her punishment. Her seruants sought her, but in vaine, so as halfe the night being wasted, they gaue ouer till the next morning, concluding then to deuide themselues, and so looke for her, none fond of finding her, so proud and curst she was: but dutie told them shee must bee sought, lest shee fin­ding her selfe neglected, might bring their greater harme; so some taking charge of her tent, and other, prouision, the rest, with part of her Damsels went in search of her; they trauelled, while she at night being weary, laid her downe, and hauing finished her exclamations, with meere wearines of enui­ous thoughts fell asleepe, resting till break of day, when she was awaked by one, who gently pulling her by the sleeue, and then folding her in his armes, vsed these words.

Liana (said hee) why alas thus long hast thou tormented thy poore slaue Allanus? O looke but louingly now vpon mee, and for that loue-looke, all former ills shall bee forgotten, thy scorne shall bee no more thought on, thy cruell strangenesse, and causelesse suspition no more presented to mine eyes, nor shall thy leauing me be mentioned, nor thy flying from mee, put againe in remembrance, all shall rest vncald, as bills cancelled; throw off then thy curstnesse, and now embrace mee with thy pardoned loue? hold mee in thy fauour, as I doe thee in my breast: striue not anew to abandon me, who liu'd but in thy search, and will to please thee now die, rather then liuing, giue offence vnto thee.

Shee whose pride could hardly permit the embracing, if Steriamus had offered it, before she loued him, seeing (the day now broke) a man thus [Page 166] bould, and what was more for her vexation all tatter'd, and torne, his ray­ments like one, who in contempt of handsomenes had put on those missha­pen, and ill suited cloathes, and for newnes raggs, in great dispite. Villaine said she, touch me not, nor dishonor my habits with thy rude handling them, strugling with all her power to get loose from him, who mildely said hee would not offend her. Thou dost offend me sayd shee. Thou hast long af­flicted me sayd hee: let me goe hence Villaine cry'd she: O pitty me sayd Allanus? I hate thee sayd Nereana. These curst words being to a madde man, as indeed this ragged creature was, distractedly fallē into that miserable estate by mistaken loue: he fell into his old fits, and then forgetting him­selfe, his finding her, Liana, and all, grew to apprehend, that this was the Goddesse of those woods, who had put on that habit to disguise her selfe. O pardon me diuine Goddesse sayd hee, who haue thus farr forgotten my selfe towards you, but blame your outward shew rather then my neglect? She, the more he spake, grew the more distemperd, at last with rage growing almost as madd as he, who now, fully perswaded shee was that Goddesse, whether she would or noe, would worship her, and that he might be sure of her stay, hee tide her to a tree; then to haue her in her owne shape out of those vestures, which he imagined made her vnwilling to abide with him: hee vndress'd her, pulling her haire downe to the full length; cloathes hee left her none, saue onely one little petticoate of carnation tafatie; her greene silke stockins hee turn'd, or row [...]ld a little downe, making them serue for buskins; garlands hee put on her head, and armes, tucking vp her smock-sleeues to the elbowes, her necke bare, and a wreath of fine flowers he hung crosse from one shoulder vnder the other arme, like a belt, to hang her qui­uer in: a white sticke which he had newly whittled, he put into her hand, in­stead of a boare speare: then setting her at liberty he kneeled downe, and admired her, when she almost hating her selfe in this estate fled away, but as fast as his sad mad nesse would carry him, he pursued her. The more he fol­lowed, the greater was her speed, till both weary, and shee breathlesse, cast herselfe downe by a cleere spring, (into it she was about) but the picture of her owne selfe did so amaze her, as she would not goe so neere vnto her metamorphos'd figure. This spring was in the middest of a faire meadow, the ground painted ouer with all sorts of dainty flowers: the weeping of it running waste, seeming merry tears, or a pleasant mourning; but she past the pleasure of those delicacies, sense hauing out-gone her, or at least (in great weaknes ready to depart) lay vnvaluing as ignorant of those sweete delights, till night being againe come, she yeelded vnto the iust demaund of sleepe, her body being too weake for such a spirit. The madd man in like maner rested, but a prety distance from her; towards day she was awak'd, and cal'd from her rest, by a songe which was sunge by one not farre from her, who in like manner had there taken his lodging; day was a little break­ing forth, like hope to enioying, which made her see, the voyce belong'd to a Knight of excellent proportion, for so much she might discerne, with a soft (but sweete) voyce hee brought forth these words.

O Nereana, said she, what luckles chance is befallen thee? how art thou lost, abused, neglected and forsaken? yet these thou art not altogether fallen into, since thine owne royall spirit shall neuer leaue thee, and if once thou can [...]t but get free from this place, thy worth and deserts shall shine more glorious ouer these mishaps, and thy power reward thy seruants disloyalty: and now it may be, nay I assure my selfe, here is a meanes presented to me for my de­liuery; with that rising, she went where the Knight lay, who after the song remained a little quiet, (I meane in show) comming to him, shee vsed these wordes. Sir, welcome to this place, since I assure my selfe you are of purpose sent to doe me seruice. The said Knight looking vp, and seeing her strange odde attire, gessing her by her speech to be as vaine, as her apparell was phantasticall, rising from the ground, hee said. If my seruice (which would proue to my perpetuall griefe) were alotted to madnesse, I cannot finde where better to bestow it, then on you; otherwise, I trust I shall not attend your follies. My follies, cryde she; I tell thee greatest Princes may esteeme themselues honour'd, if I command them. If distraction rule them, I belieue they cannot finde a fitter mistris, answer'd he. O God said Nereana, when was vertue thus abused? I tell thee base Knight, I am a Princesse. I am not base, said he [...] nor can I thinke you are a Princesse, since so vnprincely termes come from you. Why, what are you said shee? I am not ashamed of my name said hee; wherefore (if you can, and haue such vnderstanding as to be sensible of it,) know that I am cal'd Philarchos, youngest sonne to the King of Morea, and brother to Parselius and Rosindi, and to finde Parselius, (whom wee haue lost) I am now going. I thought you were said shee de­scended of some insolent race, for much do you resemble that highly admired Lady, your proud Sister Pamphilia. Hee who was naturally melancholly, and sadder now, because in loue, grew extreamly angry, yet moderating his fury hee onely replyde thus. A woman and being madde, had liberty to say any thing: whereupon hee went to his horse, and leaping on him made as great haste as if he had fear'd infection, leauing her in all the disorder that might be imagined, the trampling of his horse awaked the mad man, who being now out of his former fit, but still distempered rose, and going to the spring to drinke, found Nereana sitting by the side of it in such a passion as shee perceiued him not till hee was close by her; then rising in a chafe, she would haue left the place; but hee staying her, faire Nymph said hee, flee [Page 168] mee not, I meane no harme vnto you, but rather wil beseech you to be mer­cifull to the most haplesse of men, and to this pitty I coniure you by the true and earnest affection that Alfeus bare you: by his loue I say, I sue to you to haue compassion of mee, turne this sweet water into a spring of loue, that as it hath beene euer called by that blessed name of Arethusa, you now hauing taken againe your owne shape, and resumd your naturall body from that Metamorphosis, taking name, and a new beeing againe vnto you, hauing by this gain'd a God-head for euer, blesse, and inrich this water with that gift, that when my cruell (but still beloued) Liana, shall drinke of it, the vertue of it may turne her heart to sweetest pitty. Nerena, as much affraid as her proud spirit would permit her, remembring how hee had vsed her the day before, amazed with what hee said, neuer hauing heard of any such thing as a Metamorphosis, her wit lying another way, scorning his sight, disdaining his speech, and yet forced to suffer it; in few wordes, doubting that silence might inrage him, she made this answer. I am not a Nimph Arethusa, nor a Goddesse, but a distressed woman. Then said hee, are you the fitter for me to keepe company with: not so neither, said shee, for I am a Princesse. Can Princes then bee distressed, said hee? I thought they had beene set a­boue the reach of misery, and that none but Shepheards and such like, could haue felt that estate. O yes, said Nerena, and I am heere a spectacle of the frowne of fortune; wherefore let mee intreate you to giue mee some [...]ase in my affliction, which is to leaue mee, since your company is one of my troubles. Would my sorrowes were as soone to bee helped, as your re­quest might be granted, then should I bee in hope to bee, said hee, happy: but alas, mine can neuer haue end, yours may and shall; for I will no lon­ger trouble you; with that hee sadly went from her, leauing her, whose in­tolerable pride was such, as shee would not let him stay so much as in her presence, though after shee wished for him, and would gladly haue had his conuersation, pardoning his meane estate and madnesse. So long was shee in that place, as famine, cold, and want wrought kindnesse in her, who else despised, and contemned all, and all thinges; from hill to hill shee went, louing them for imitating the height of her minde, and because shee might by their helpe see if any passengers pass'd that way, besides to hide her selfe among the bushes, euen as it were from her owne selfe. Now berries and such poore food was her richest fare, aud those esteem'd, since they held her life with her: thus was truth reuenged of ignorance, shee continu­ing thus.

While Philarchos held on his course till hee came to the City of Syracusa, where standing vpon the hauen, there arriu'd a great troope of Ladies, and braue Knights; but one Lady (seeming the onely one for delicacie, and to bee the mistresse of the rest) passing by him, cast her eye on him, viewing his rich armour and braue stature, instantly staying, saluted him thus. Sir, your outward countenance tels me, that in so excellent a body, as braue a mind inhabits; from you therefore I beseech pitty and assistance, being like to perish otherwise, vnder the disfauour of my father; if you will aid a distressed Lady, and thereby gaine honor to your selfe; grant this vnto your seruant Orilena, Princesse of Metelin, and some other neighbouring Ilands which lye in the Archepelago. Hee whose spirit was wholly guided by [Page 169] worth, stedily beholding her, replide, that his greatest happinesse (and that whereto he onely did aspire) was to serue Ladies, to defend them from in­iuries, and to bring them to their best content: wherefore although hee had promised himselfe another way (or indeed no perfect knowne way, since it was in search of a brother of his) that, and all other occasions should be laid aside, to relieue such a creature as her selfe; and in this he spake truth, for this was the Lady he loued, she yet ignorant of it. Then she intreated the knight to goe aboard with her, not desiring to delay time; hee was soone intreated to such a blessing: wherefore he consented, and being in the ship, she began her discourse thus.

A Gentleman in Mitalen, being son to the richest, and noblest man for de­scent in all the Country, my father hath chosen to bestow on me; this man might (I will not deny) more then merit me, were his conditions answerable to his meanes; but as he is rich in all worldly treasure, so he is the treasure of all hellish properties: the best of his qualities which are smooth fashion, and eloquent speech, turnd, and imployd to no other vse, then flattery, and deceitfull glozings. These worke on my father, and so haue they their part in me; hee beleeues, and loues him; I perceiue, and hate him; but which workes most with my father is, that he so much seemes to desire me out of af­fection (as he sayes) that hee will take mee with nothing; such affection and fondnesse my father beares, and carries ouer a young sister of mine, as to make her Princesse of his Ilands, he consents to giue mee to this Prince of wicked­nesse; I hauing no meanes to saue my selfe from the destruction this loa­thed match would bring me, I went to this Lord mine Vncle, to whom I de­clared my misfortune and ensuing ruine, if I did marry so. Hee taking pitie on me, conueyed me thence with these Knights and Ladies, whose affections to me are such, as not to leaue me in such distresse, but accompany mee rather in aduenture of ill, then assured ill: but alas what shall I say? I am the mi­serablest of women, if I fall into his hands againe, which I hope you will keepe me from. I was by the aduice of these my friends, put into the search of Amphilanthus, the honour of Knights, of Parselius, Rosindy, Perissus, Steriamus, or Selarinus, all which are famous men, whose ho­nours shine equally, and either of whose assistance had been assured gaine: but some of them are (as I perceiued by one I met) so farre off, and there in such imployment, as I ventur'd not to obtaine their fauours: af­ter I met a knight, who told mee, Amphilanthus and Perissus, with the valliant Ollorandus, were gone into Morea, wherefore thither I purposed to goe, but a storme tooke me, casting me vpon this place, where I haue gaind this happinesse (as I hope it to my selfe) by finding you; wherefore I pray honour me, with telling me who you are.

Most worthie Ladie (said hee), since you had desire to haue some of these named Knights, you may thinke your fortune the worse in find­ing mee, and putting confidence in mee, so farre short of those Prin­ces: wherefore I would desire to conceale my name, till my actions may allow the bold discouerie of it; let mee then (I beseech you) bee so fauoured by this second honour, as to giue mee leaue, onely to bee called your Knight, till I merit by my seruice to you, your know­ing more of mee. Shee granted his request, verily imagining him to [Page 170] be some of them by his speech, and thereupon her comfort increased. Then did she bestow a very rich and costly armour on him, his owne hauing been but hardly vs'd, by a curst, but ouerthrowne enemy, which hapned in this manner. After he had left Athens, and at his returne receiud the honour of knighthood, it was his determination to seeke his brother Parselius, and to that purpose he pass'd through his fathers Countries vnknowne, not leauing any aduenture vnattempted, wherein hee might make triall of his force, which hee made so good testimony of, as he was feared in all those parts, be­ing calld the Knight of the Speare, by reason he carried the figure of one in his sheild, as he did that shape on his arme: but hearing no newes of his bro­ther, hee tooke to the sea, and among the many Ilands, it was his fortune in Metelin to win and loose, where his greatest honour he obtaind, his freedome hee lost, happening thus.

Passing by a strait way into a faire meadow, hee saw a maruellous rich, and costly Pauillion placed, about it many Tents, and before them all, a shi­ning Pillar of Gold, whereon were written these words: The worthiest Knight, and Seruant to the fairest Lady, defends this, and the honour of themselues, against any bold man that dares gaine-say the worth or beauty of them. He scorning such presumption, strake vpon the Pillar: whereupon one came to him, telling him, his Lord would soone encounter him. Straight came he forth, being one of the cruellest, and hard-fauoredst men, that could be a man, and no monster; his bignes extraordinary, his fiercenesse such, as could not be withstood with ordinary strength: armed he was with plates of yron, and his horse answerable to his master in all things, so as an excellent choice was made, as if both framd for one another, and neuer were two beasts better matched; none fit to ride the one, but he who was fittest to be master of the other. This creature came (with a troope of his vassals before him, for so he calld them) into the field, each of them carrying the Sheilds and Helmets of those knights he had conquered before that Pillar, all which they placed in order as they were wonne, but for his greater glory, on the ground. Then aduanced he to the Greeke Prince, scornefully pitying him, who so boldly ventured his youth against such an experienced conquerour. But hee in whom vertuous modesty liu'd, mixt with manly strength, only desired the fight, rather then discourse; so they ran one against the other with such com­linesse, fiercenesse, and strength, as in either part was seene rightly placing those properties. The Prince had his Helme strooke off; the other was run thorow the shoulder, part of the staffe staying in him; withall he fell from his horse, but being recouerd, and seeing the danger the other was fallen into by losse of his Helme, he in regard of that, forgot his hurt, and with furious rage set vpon the Prince, who couering himselfe with his Sheild, as nobly and brauely defended himselfe; they fought till the bloud ran as fast from their wounds, as dropps from a louers eyes, comming from as heart-bleeding a cause; for at last the Monster was killed, and the Prince taken out of the field for dead; but who except loue could be such a Chirurgion; for whether was hee brought but to the Princesse, who lay but one league thence, an excellent Chirurgion, and as excellent a Ladie, who so carefully tended him, as hee in short time recouered, but to a more lasting paine (for fauour and cures bringing tormenting wounds), shee put balme [Page 171] to the hurts giuen by the enemy, but shee a friend foe-like did make much deeper, and more harmefull ones, piercing the heart which in the fight kept it selfe secure, now fallen into extremitie of losse: but what was gaind be­sides this? danger, and threatning ruine: for the younger sister cald Erinea fell inamord with him, and so passionate was she of him, as she ran to her fa­ther, cast her selfe at his feete, besought him to get that stranger for her, or to see her soone buried. He whose fondnesse was, and is without expression, vowed to satisfie her. The Prince got notice of it, and so priuately stole a­way, his affections being gratefully, and passionately placed on the other, kindnesse wounding, and bringing loue. Then passed he, where he heard still of the flourishing fame of his kindred: lastly, his Brothers losse, which hee gaind by the meeting of the Squire Clorinus: then vowed hee a search for him; but finding her, for whom hee had lost himselfe, hee left the former to follow her, and find himselfe; so stormes sometimes prooue blessings, for one tempest brought them in one place to meete.

Thus passed they together, he freely (because vnknowne) beholding her; she kindly, because hee was to serue her, entertaining him: then at last they arriu'd at Metelin, where they met for their first welcome this encounter; a Pillar of red Marble, as threatning bloud, on which hung in bloudy letters these words, written in white Marble, seeming like drops of bloud in snow; The true Seruants of Erinea maintaine this with Sword and Speare against all, that doe defend the trayterous Knight of the Speare. He, whom this did most concerne (yet hauing power to performe his former resolution) inly fretted, but otherwise made no other show, then in demanding of the Lady, who this Knight of the Speare was. She sighing, made this answer: Alas my Lord (said she) you lay too hard a taxe on me, since I cannot pay it, with­out yeelding as tribute many teares, and euen the breaking of my heart to say he is, and is not now here: but yet to deny nothing to you, who so free­ly haue granted my request, I will say what I know of him; He was, and (I hope) is the true image, or rather masculine vertue it selfe; the loueliest that Nature framd, the valiantest that followed Mars and his exercises, the wisest that wisdome dwelt in, the sweetest that noblenesse grac'd with sweet mild­nesse, and the mildest that sweetnesse honourd: excellent in eloquence, true in profession, and making his actions still the same with his word; truth go­uernd him, and he truth, honord by being so true in worth: but for his name, or birth, I can say nothing, since but after a cruell combat I first saw him brought halfe dead to mee; yet so much spirit had that decaied fire left, as burnt my heart. I might blush to say I lou'd, because a maide should not thinke of, much lesse acknowledge such a passion: but Sir, to deny that which is truth, I should wrong you, and most abuse my loue, which grew from an vnusuall ground, when pale wan lipps won kisses, where dispaire made hope, and death affection: but from these sprung my desires, which lie as deadly wrapt vp now in folds of losse, no expectation of any good remaining, but that my faith which still liues shall breathe iustly in that loue, till life to death giue new possession.

How came your hopes so to despaire (said hee)? Alas Sir (said she) the sight of his wounds, and image of death, made me at first feare in loue; then hauing recouerd him, I hoped in loue; but then my younger sister (of whom I [Page 172] haue spoken, still being the barre in my ioyes) fell in loue with him, as mea­ning to disinherit me in all possessions of very thoughts, and the deare enioy­ing of them, for yet my loue aspired no higher then to thinke of him, not ad­uenturing to let him see I lou'd, so she gaind thus much of me, shee spake to my father, she wooed for her selfe, she vowed, she plotted, she did al to gaine, and ruine me. But he, whether pitying me: for surely Sir, he could not chuse but know I lou'd him, since my fashion shew'd it, though my speech not da­ring boldly to say it, flatteringly demonstrated, some thing made those faul­trings in my talke, my blushings said, I surely feared, or loued, and feare must of necessitie be barr'd, since he was rather prisoner vnto me, though I indeed was subiect to his loue.

But are you freed (said he)? O no (cride she) nor euer will, nor was my lothnesse to discourse for that, but for this desperate affliction; he finding he was sought, and not consenting to bee made by force to yeeld, to other then his owne made choice, he stole away; and truly say I so, since he robbed mee of my best and chiefest part. Oft haue I curst my selfe, that I ne're followed him, or did mistrust that he would so depart; which though in loue I would not haue gainsaid, yet with my Loue I would haue gone along: a Pages ha­bit for his sake would I haue prized more, then Princes Roabes at home. But he did goe, and I vnblest maid remaind behind, vnhappy, dispossest, and disin­herited of all, if you doe not relieue me to some good, which I expect alone from you to haue.

Doe you not know that Knight (said he) who thus you doe affect? Thus farre, said she, his face is so ingrauen in my thoughts, his picture drawne so liuely in my heart, as soone his knowledge would come vnto me, if I might be happy with his deare sight. Deare Lady (said hee) I can thus much say, he loues as much as you haue here expressed, and yet that is so fully to make him plainely discerne the heauen of true content, as if ought might make him more deere appeare before your eyes, he would attempt to gain that, though the losse of life must attaine it; loue then still him, who is your best beloued, and loues you best, and only, and thus take vnto your seruice that so wishst for Knight, more happy, in this exprest loue, then in a million of possessed Iles. I am the man you doe inrich with loue, I am the blest borne man to such a fate, and I the true vnfaigned louing man, who loues loue truly for this happie loue. She blushed to see she had first told her tale, but he did kisse away that blush, for then had he throwne off his helme, and held her in his armes, bold­ly possessing what she freely gaue. She saw him, knew him, and so knew al ioy. Then put he on his helme, and strake the Pillar thrice; straight from a Wood, a little distant off, tenne knights arriu'd, the formost of the which thus spake. Fond man be gone, this worke is not for thee, vnlesse thou be that Traytor we expect. I am no Traytor (said he), yet the man you falsely haue call'd so, and written too.

Many haue fondly said as much, said he, who after haue recanted, and yet lost their heads, for taking falshood to themselues. Falshood ne're liu'd, or had a spring in me, I am Philarchos, Knight of the Speare, said he, sought for by Erinea, but disdaining her, am hither come to right her sister Orilena, wrongd, and abusd by her.

With that they parted, soone againe they met: but he who now knew twas [Page 173] no time to spare, aimed fully at his hart, which hee did, parting it to deuide the former wrong among the rest, who followed him in fate. The second at the encounter lost his horse, and brake his thigh, with meeting with the earth; the third his ribs: then did they surely finde this was the Knight. The fourth did breake his arme, and shoulder both, the fift had but a fall and found his legges to runne away, and call more company, while all the other fiue at once, (and contrary to the law of armes) assayled him. He now was to win his prize for honour and loue, wherefore couragiously he withstood them all, though the blowes that met at once, giuen by foure speares, were terrible, yet hee like the pillar of true worth stood vnmooud; the fift kill'd his horse, so as hee was forced to fight on foote, leaping nimbly from him, as disdayning to haue a fall, any way, or on any termes, they rudely assayl'd him, keeping their horses: but soone had hee brought two of them more humbly to yeeld, and respectiuely to encounter him: for wounding the horse of one of them, he ran away with his Master, madd with the hurt, and casting him, he hanging by the stirrop, neuer left running and striking, till he had torne him in peeces; the other he stroke off his arme, with the anguish of which blow he fell from his horse, the Prince quickly leaping vpon him. Now were there but three left, and he againe mounted, fear'd not what their forces could doe vnto him, and soone made he an end of them; one hee wounded in the body to death, the other with a blow on the head, the blood springing out of his eyes, nose, and eares in greatest aboundance choked him, he hauing no time nor means, to pull off his helme, so neere the braue Knight followed him, nor had it beene to any other end, if he had gayn'd the op­portunity, then as if he would with good manners haue stood bare headed, to haue his head cut off with more respect, and ease to the Conqueror, who now had but one left to withstand him, who seeing his fellowes fate, would not indure, but turned his horse and fledd; yet before he went, the Knight perceiuing his intent, (not caring to hinder him,) cut the bridle, and raines of his horse, which gaue him such liberty, as the poore distressed runaway, knew not how to gouerne him, nor himself: if he leap'd from him, he fell in­to the hands of his enemy, whose fury he durst not trust; if he kept the saddle, he was in as great danger, going where the madnes of the beast would carry him, but soone was hee out of those feares: for Tolimargus (the sweet youth the Lady had described to her Knight, seeing the flight of the poore Knight) encounterd him, and his Knights in number twelue, made a ring about him, while Tolimargus strake off his head.

Then spurd they al towards the braue Philarchos, who had now in this space pulled off his helme, and so taken a little breath, besides drunke a pretious drink Orilena gaue him, which did so refresh him, as he was wel able to haue a second encounter, which quickly hapned, and a sharper then the first: for all those thirteene, desiring either to kill, or take the Prince, ranne vpon him, who fearcelerly attended them, and with his Speare killd the first, with his Sword the second, and then encountred Tolimargus, who he knew to be the cheif by his armor, to whom he thus spake. If worth be in thee, or so much sence to be sencible of the shame thou dost to the honor of Knighthood, let thy knights stand stil, & end the combat with my self, who am as good a man as thou art, and therfore no disgrace, but an honor to fight with me. What art [Page 174] thou (said he) that thus darest compare with me? I am (said he) Philarchos of Morea. If (said he) thou hadst not thus butcherd my knights, and the rest of my Countrimen, I could find in my heart to grant thy request, nay saue thy life, for I haue no quarrel to any, but to the Knight of the Speare, that Traytor, who hath won my loue, and mistrisse from me, and cowardly run away when he had done. Villaine (said he) he run not away from any man, but from the fond affection of Erinea: and to shew thee the better that hee feares none, nor thy force, here I am, the same Knight of the Speare, to pu­nish thy presumption for aspiring to my loue. Then set they all vpon him, but what with fury and hate to him, who was his riuall, he did such acts, as in short time he left none to reuile him; the las [...] was Tolimargus, who held a­mong his men, as farre from blowes as he could, till (they were all kild) hee [...] was forst to conclude the combat himselfe with the losse of his head, which Philarchos cut off, and presented to Orilena, who commanded it to be set vp­on the top of the Pillar, and all the other bodies laid about it, as the trophies of that victorie.

This being done, they hasted to a Castle of her Vncles (that good man who had carried her away from her harme) and there they shut vp them­selues (that place being of good strength) till they could get forces to assist them, or peace with the Duke. While the bruit of this victorie spread it selfe ouer all Meteline, comming to the Dukes eares, and also to Erinea's, shee fell downe at his feete againe, beseeching that shee might bee fauoured so farre, as to haue permission to destroy this rebellious companie, who would (she said) else ruine them. The father old, and doting, graunted it; then she at last brought forth this plot, to proclaime, that whosoeuer could bring in Orilena, dead or aliue, should haue the Castle of the Sunne, (which was the fayrest in that Country, and had beene Apollo's temple) and all the royalties thereto belonging; but he that could bring her aliue, with her seruant the Knight of the Speare, should haue the honour, and Isle of Samos, to him and his for euer. This promise was imagined to be of such force, as to bring in either of them or both: lastly shee layd ano­ther, which was by promising her selfe to any one, who could bring in his head. This was spread abroad, which made much danger, and hazard to the braue Prince, and his friend; yet such a spirit had hee, as aspir'd to nothing, but the noblest, and most difficult aduentures. Certaine notice the Duke and his amorous daughter got of the Knights beeing there, and his Daughters returne, by the first Knight that fledde, and who was the cause of Tolimargus comming, though hee discouer'd not to him the name of the Knight. Then gain'd they notice of their being at the Castle so as not hauing a readier way, they rais'd men, and violently beseig'd the place, and so straightly, as at last famine grew to be as cruell, and curst a threatner, as the Duke; yet they resolu'd to end there, famished for want of foode, rather then yeeld, and so be famished with want of each others company. Then went they into the Chappell, and there together pray'd, together wept, at last together married, vowing to dye religiously, ver­tuously, and louingly together. At there returne, they went to eate that poore remaining that there was left them, and hauing done, they went againe to pray; then returned into their chamber, where they spent the night in [Page 175] full discourse, ye [...] so full of loue, as loue seem'd to please it selfe in excel­lent sorrw: teares, and sighs were the banquets for their nuptialls, com­plaints of cruelty their enioyings, and what could be wished to giue true delight, contrarily wrought against them.

The morning come they rose, and as one, parted not, but together went to the top of the Castle, whence they saw their ruine, then kissing her, and gently weeping on her face, hee said. My deere, mistake not you these tears, which now I shedd onely in tendernesse vnto your state, and for you, who was sauer of my life; How can life better be disposed of, then to her seruice who did once preserue it? when I a stranger, hurt, and mangled, was conducted to your house, how was I there relieued, and cherished by your care? this was but to this end, and this end is more welcome then a life, which without you I otherwise had gained. Fare­well deere loue, more kind, and sweete then blessings in distresse; Ile fight for thee, and this must be my last, yet feare I not, for doe but see my end, and that will make me liue with ioy in death, when I see thee beholding me from hence, my courage will increase, and make my blowes more terrible, and fatall, then the harme which falls in stormes from high. Farewell once more my deere, my life, my ioy, and my last comfort: sweete weepe not for me, nor marre those deere eyes, which wound mee more to see them harme themselues, then stroaks that from the enemie can come, and bee as­sured the victory will turne to vs, if you but let their cleernes shine on me; but dimme them, and I die. The sweetest soule did weepe, yet wip'd away the tears to fauour him, and shew them bright; farewell my life, said shee, if thou dost die, for after thee Ile neuer more see day: then kiss'd they once a­gaine, and so did part; hee to the gate, whereout he sallied, then arm'd in [...]edd: his sheild with the old deuice, which was an Azuer Speare, vpon his [...]rme a scarfe of Azuer colour, giuen him by his loue, and thus against the e­nemie he came, who neuer stay'd to meete him, but with troops incom­passing him round, who fought with rage against all hope, more then a hope [...]o dye like to himselfe, and to renowne his blood, that though shedd by such [...]orce, yet so well shedd, would write his fame eternally to times, and wit­ [...]esse worth with valour ioyn'd, made loue the crowne whereat they lei­ [...]el'd still.

To say what courage he did show, how many slew, what wounds, what [...]roaks, it were but tedious, and most vaine; but so much did hee there, as [...]ade a way through the thickest, & so pass'd in spite of what their furyes, or [...]heir numbers could doe to hinder him. A path he made of men, and pa­ [...]ed the ground with bodyes, while their bloods sought how to bath them [...]leane, and wash their wounds: which giuen on so ill grounds, did blush or shame. Hee beeing pass'd, and on the other side, cast vp his eyes, to see if [...]ee beheld; which when he saw, and that she made a signe to him, to scape, [...]nd euen with hands held vp, and knees bent downe shee did beseech, hee [...]rauely answered, (with his sword wau'd round about his head, as who [...]ould say) no heere Ile dye, or set my Lady free. With that, behind him [...]me a gallant Knight, and fifty more, who neuer speaking word; as he a­ [...]aine did charge his enemie, charg'd in with him, and did so brauely helpe, [...] in short time, the conquest was dispos'd to braue Philarchos, and his new [Page 176] come friends; then did they seeke among the prisoners, where they might finde the spring of all this ill; at last they got the Duke; and then with guards brought him into the Castle, when kind Orilena came vnto her Knight, and holding him fast in her tender armes, wellcomd him to his owne, and her command; but as she did embrace him, she perceau'd the blood to runne a­long his arme, wherefore shee went, and speedily did fetch an excellent baulme, and then disarming him, did dresse his wounde: but when his helme was off, the stranger Knight caught him with all true loue into his breast, and louingly thus said.

My Lord, how bless'd am I to see the Prince I seeke? he also hauing pulld off his helme, but young Philarchos knew him not; wherefore my Lord said he, the honor you haue done this day, is to your selfe, in rescuing a poore distressed Lady, and restoring her vnto her birth-right, which shee else had lost: for me, this fauour, and the aide I had from your braue selfe and these your followers, shall euer binde me to be still your friend, and faithfull ser­uant, when you shall dispose of me, and mine, which still you freely may, and shall command; yet let mee know I doe beseech you, who you are, and how that you knew me? My name (said he) is honoured most by this braue title of your friend, my selfe am calld Antissius King of Romania, setled, and restored by your excellent cousen, (and the worlds greatest worth) Amphilanthus; the knowledge that I haue of you is this: I saw your picture in the famous Court of your father the Morean King, and withall your name, and many of your acts were there related, while you passd vnknowne, but as the bare Knight of the Speare; ioyes infinitly did possesse the Court, to heare the fame which all parts holds of you: besides, so like you are to that braue King, whom heauen doth fauour for the earths best good, as for his sake, (if for no other cause,) I should affectionatly loue you. The honors which you lay on me (said he) great King are such, as I but weake in worth, can hardly beare the waight of, yet the last affects me most, that I am some­thing like that matchlesse King, whose worth, ambitiously I seeke to imitate, though sure to come as much below the reach of it, as 'tis from me vnto the cleerest starre.

Then did they bring the King into a roome, where they disarmd him, and then went backe vnto the Duke, whom they had put into a gallerie well guarded, and respected like himselfe: him they found, not ouerthrowne with griefe, for neither was hee sad, nor any way dismay'd, but seem'd to beare his ouerthrow patiently, to him Philarchos thus began. My Lord, for so you are to mee, since I am husband to your elder child, who fondly, and no way humanely, for loue to Erinea, you forget, and would disinherit; but shee, (borne to more good) was first releiud by me; lastly, and most, by this great King, heauen so much fauoring her, as to haue succour sent her from farr parts; before his comming we were marryed, determining to die, (if such our fates) in holy wedlock. Now you may discerne what wrong you did, and if you please, accept me for your sonne, and pardon what with­out your knowledge, wee in loue, and great extremity haue done; nor thinke shee hath dishonored her selfe, or you, in making me her husband, for I am a Prince, and sonne vnto a mighty King: my name Philarchos, my Country Morea, third sonne vnto the King thereof. Then did the Duke [Page 177] embrace him, speaking thus: What hath been done, I do confesse was hard, and most vniustly against mine owne child; but she hath married vnknowne vnto me, in that she hath done like offence; so set them iust in sight, and hers the greater will appeare: yet since her choice is such, & where such worth is, as I truly speak, more cannot flourish in so tender yeares, I loue her, and com­mend her: thus worth doth gouerne, where rule els would shew. Then kist he his new sonne, and presently his daughter was brought forth, whom he did kindly welcome, and so did conferre that Iland straight vpon the new maried couple, making him Prince of fruitfull Metelin, and other Ilands which were also his: but himselfe and Erinea left the ioyfull payre, and went to Samos, where they liued, she studying how to vexe or hurt her sister: thus ill na­tures breath but in malice, and feede still on spite. Then did the young Ro­manian King take leaue, first telling how he came vnto that place, which was by chance; for leauing the Morean Court, vpon the comming of the happy newes of Victorious Rosindy, hee desired to returne for his owne Countrie, and there he would raise more men (but as he trauelld, he would still inquire of Parselius and Philarchos, whom he long'd to meete), and goe himselfe to succour and redeeme Albania (Loue, what a Lord art thou, comman­ding ouer all; for Selarina was the cause of this)? Then going back, hee fell vpon this Ile to take in water, and by meerest chance, meeting a Peasant of that Country, learn'd the state at that time, that the place was in; this brought him to the happy succour of the louingst paire that euer lou'd, and did enioy their loues. All well, the Duke departed, and they safe, Antissius tooke his leaue, with Allimarlus, Steward of his house, and many more who did attend on him; a little before whose leauing Morea, Leandrus hasting to his heart, desired to be the messenger of that so happy successe of braue Ro­sindy, and so there arriu'd, to the infinite content of all the Court; relating the dangerous attempts, but then concluding with the happy end of ioy and mar­riage, deliuering letters from the King and Queene, who gaue precedence in place, and gouernment to her husband: for (said she) he won the kingdome by his sword, me by his loue; both his, none but himselfe can here beare rule. A little after Leandrus did arriue, Amphilanthus tooke his leaue, and with his Sister went for Italy (as he pretended), but St. Maura was the shrine hee bent his pilgrimage vnto. The night before, great sorrow was, to part, be­tweene Pamphilia and Vrania; yet time grew on, the king came in, and so with kind and sad farewels, he left the Court, promising to returne with speed, and to conduct Pamphilia to her kingdome, from whence, he by his perswasions had yet detaind her. The way he and his sister tooke, was straight vnto the sea, none going with him, but his deare and faithfull friend Ollorandus; the euening after his depart, Leandrus remaining in the Court, and his passions more violently increasing to the height of discouering, looking out at his window, saw Pamphilia alone in a faire garden, walking in such a manner, as he could hardly giue it that title; for so stilly did she mooue, as if the moti­on had not been in her, but that the earth did goe her course, and stirre, or as trees grow without sence of increase. But while this quiet outwardly ap­pear'd, her inward thoughts more busie were, and wrought, while this Song came into her mind.

Leandrus now growne resolute not to loose for want of attempting, would not let this opportunitie passe, nor let slip so pretious an aduantage, went in­to the garden to her, and indeed it was properly said so, for such businesse had her passions, as til he interrupted them with words, she discerned him not, his speech was this. Is it possible (most excelling Queene) that such a spirit, and so great a Princesse, should be thus alone, and aduenture without guard? My spirit my Lord (said she) as well guards me alone, as in compa­ny; and for my person, my greatnesse, and these walls are sufficient warrants and guardians for my safety. Yet your safety might bee more (said hee) if ioynd with one, who might defend you vpon all occasions, both with his loue and strength, while these dull walls can onely incompasse you: but if trai­tors assaile you, their helpe will bee but to stand still, poorely gaine-saying. Loue is oft-times as slacke (being treacherous) answered Pamphilia, from as­sistance, thus are these walls more secure: and for strength I had rather haue these, then ones power I could not loue. Such is your discretion (said Lean­drus, as to know, that loue with discretion is the truest loue; and therefore to a braue Princesse, and especially to you, whose vertue and beauty cannot [Page 279] be demanded by any, whose deserts might challenge meriting of them, dis­cretion should aduenture to pe [...]swade you to make choyce of some one you might affect for a husband, since you were not onely fram'd the most incom­parable Lady of the world, but also a woman, and so to be matched with one sit for your estate, in birth and greatnesse, and so iudgement will continue af­fection betweene you. Discretion in loue, I must confesse (said she) as discre­tion it selfe is best [...] but if loue come wholly to be gouernd by it, that wil haue so great a power, as loue will loose name, and rule, and the other for ri­ches, or other baser things, shall p [...]euaile against the sweetest passion, and on­ly blisse, which is enioying; therefore my Lord Leandrus, by your fauour, I must say, I thinke you erre in this, and in the truth of loue, which is a supreme power, commanding the eyes, and the heart: what glory were it to him to haue a cold part of wisdome to rule with him? No, his honor is to be alone, and therefore doth he oft expresse it, in making proud and great ones, despe­rately affect meaner ones, in respect of them, and all to yeeld to his law; they then that truly vnderstand great Loue, must so obserue, as their merits may purchase from him so great a grace, as to be able to choose fittest loues; his power must not be limited, nor his gouernment mixed, as if he had a counsell set about him, or a protector ouer him, his knowledge wanting no aduice, his knowledge neuer knowing partner, who is in truth all wisdome all know­ledge, all goodnesse, all truth; he must not haue it said, that loue with discre­tion is the truest loue, since in truth of loue, that is but a bastard, brought vp at home like a right borne child: and yet is his iudgement such, as hee makes discretion shine through all his acts; but how? as a seruant to his greater power; as if your heart should command your tongue, to deliuer what it thinkes, but discreetly to doe it so, as offence may not proceede from it: here is discretion, and yet the tongue is but the hearts messenger. Leandrus, whose end was to procure fauour, not to contend, wittily tooke hold of this last speech, thinking it better to make this the introduction to his loue, then any longer to waite or expect, occasion offered, which if once but let slip, seldome comes againe, so as letting her louelinesse, and her owne words to be the be­ginning and meanes for his affections knowledge, he answered thus.

Madam (said he) it is most true, that the tongue is but the hearts messenger, yet messengers from such a part, are to haue, and carry credence; then let my tongue bee the deliuerer to you of the most feruent affection that euer heart bare to Princesse, with the truest and vnfaigned loue; disdaine not then my affection, since I will with loyalty and seruice deserue your fauour, as wel or better then any man breathing: a Crowne I will adde to yours, and the soueraigne command of Leandrus: but what talke I of a Crowne to her, who weares the crowne of all vertues? My Lord (said she) I cannot but thanke you for your princely offer; but it must bee my fathers liking, with the con­sent of my nearest and dearest friends that can set any other Crowne on my head, then that which my people haue already setled there; and the consent of so great a people, and so louing to me, must not be neglected; what vertues are in me, shall appeare through the obedience I owe, and will pay to his Maiesty, and the rest: therefore I am altogether vnable to giue you satisfac­tion any further then this. It is you that must, & may say all, said he. Then can you haue no answer, said she. Why? are you not (cryd Leandrus) soueraigne [Page 280] of your selfe by Iudgement, yeares and authoritie, vnlimited by fortunes, by gouernment, and the loue of your Parents, which will goe with you in my choice. These still are but the threads that tie my dutie, replide the Queene: but if they consent (said he) wil you eternise my happinesse with your agree­ing. Giue me leaue first (said Pamphilia) to know their minds; and that can be no hinderance, nor furtherance of your affaires, nor shall my answere bee more displeasing to you, then now it might be. Your doubtfull answer will breede despaire in me, cryd he. It were much safer (said she) to doubt, then vainely to nurse hope. Then bent she her walke homeward, which he durst not withstand, though fearelesse of any man, or monster, yet trembled hee in her presence; both they went, and so continued both louing: both com­plaining, and neither receiuing comfort; he beholding her, and in her seeing no affection, nor cause of hope, shee seeing him, but with eyes of thankefull respect without loue; yet went he further, and so still made the greater dis­tance. Yet was not this all, for her loue was set not to be stirred, or mooued to other course, then whether the fortune of her choice did guide her. She sigh'd, he thought it did become her, and so sigh'd too: she grew pale, and sad, so did he, wanting what he sought. Shee oft-times would discourse of loue: he thought it was the prittiest theame, and answerd her in that. Shee would complaine of men, accuse their fickelnesse, and change, hee ioyned, though contrary in sexe to speake of women, and their slightings.

Thus they agreed, though in a different kind, and both did please, because they both did loue. He stroue by some pleasing talke in a third person to be­waile his case, she would not know his meaning, yet with wit would let him see she loued, and not himselfe. Cruell it was to vnderstand her affection was else-where placed, yet sometimes would hee flatter himselfe, and giue his fawning hopes leaue to dissemble, and cast a glasse of comfort on him, but glasse-like was it brittle, although faire, faire in hope, broken to dispaire. Loue violentest storme, that can bring shipwrack to a quiet heart, why doe you trauell thus to bring home gaine onely of losse? Bee fauourably kinde, loue should be mild, while loue you are most curst; and this did poore Leandrus know, whose spring-time ioy, was turned to winter-griefe; yet still hee did pursue, and so vnfortunately must proceede. Pamphilia loyall, louing, and distressed, because passionate, that night after this discouery, which though kind, yet to her was displeasing; when each retired to their rest, shee went vnto her watch of endlesse thoughts: into her chamber she hasted, then to bed, but what to doe? alas not within that to sleepe, but with more scope to let imagination play in vexing her; there did shee call his face vnto her eyes, his speech vnto her eares, his iudgement to her vnderstanding, his brauerie to her wit; all these but like that heape of starres, whose equall lusture makes the milky way. One while shee studied how to gaine her loue, then doubt came in, and feared her in that plot; his lookes shee weighed, if out of them she might but gaine a hope, they did assure her ioy, then did her heart beate quick vnto that blisse, but then againe remembrance threatned losse, how he had lou'd, & might again chuse new. False traitor, cryd she, can thy basenes be so vild & wicked, in bringing thus in mind, what thou in goodnes shouldst haue cast away? what if one errd, must that bee registred? what vertues hast thou laid aside, which in him dwell, and thus vncharitably bringst his worser [Page 281] part in sight to harme him, but thou faylest now I know his worth, and doe excuse that fault, and here I vow to liue a constant loue, and louer of his matchlesse excellence: then turnd she to the window, poore dull night said she, keepe still thy sadnesse till thy Sun appeare, and mine together, shine­ing as light, Darke art thou like my woes, dull as my wits; with that she laid her downe to rest, but it's not granted her, it must not yet bee, shee must more endure.

Then rose she and did write, then went shee to bed, and tooke a Candle, and so read awhile; but all these were but as lime-twiggs, to hold fast her thoughts to loue, and so to all vnrest which gouern'd her, for till the day did breake, shee thus did wander in her rauing thoughts: then did sleepe couet place, but she was calld to goe a hunting with the King and Queene, which she obayed, and as her manner was, as soone as the Stagge was roused, and Doggs let in vnto his ouerthrow, she followed them, and left the rest, (that either were not so well hors'd, or lese affecting such a violent sport) behind, and brauely in followed the pleasant chase, which did continue till the Sun was set. Then did they with much glory view their spoyles, ioying as in a conquest of great gaine, but what did most content the fairest Queene, was the sweete euening, in which she inioyed all the content the dainty Ayre could giue, which was as cleere, as her cleere heart in loue, and that as cleere, as cleerest sweetest ayre. But as she rode softly to coole her selfe, a delicate sweete voyce inuited her to stay, and so to see the owner of that musique, the voyce did draw them to a pleasant Groue, and then vnto a swift, sweete Ri­uers side, where on the brinke amonst the seges, sate a Nimph of all perfecti­ons that were chast; hard by her on the banke her quiuer lay, her bow by that, and she vndressing was to bath, and wash her in that pleasant streame. Pamphilia was almost amas'd, to see so rare, and exquisite a creature as shee was, wherefore commanding all the men to stay, shee and her Ladyes only went to her, whose modesty and bashfullnes was such, as she euen quaked to see those women there, and well might shee, who neuer saw her selfe in shad­dow, but shee diued to hide her selfe from her owne eyes, yet had shee lou'd.

The Queene perceiuing that she was afraid, most mildly spake thus to her. Sweete Nimph bee not thus dismaid, wee are none such as will giue cause of any harme to you; wee are your friends, and following the sport which you oft do, by chance, or hunters fortune are benighted: going vnto the Court wee heard your voyce, which hath a power sufficient to attract all creatures, like the sweete youths Harpe, that drew dumbe things to admire his choysest tunes: let me not now disturbe you sweetest Nimph, nor barre vs from such heauenly harmony; then did shee sweetly make this fine re­plye; Great Princesse pardon I beseech this rudnesse in mee, which hath made me dumbe, till now vnable to giue answer, but my lipps vnseald by your great Grace, my speech made f [...]ee to satisfie your will, I must confesse, when I did see you first I was amas'd, and did wish my selfe againe in this faire Riuer, so to hide my worthlesse selfe from your all iudging eyes. Oft haue I seene you hunt in these faire plaines, and somtimes taste of this (then blessed) brook; behinde the seges, I did once lye hid, when you dry, and farre from all places fit to entertaine your vertues in, sate downe, [Page 282] and drank of this cleere water. O said I, how blessed wert thou if thou coul­dest but know into what happinesse thou shalt arriue [...] first to bee touched by those best deerest lipps, and so to passe into her royall breast? How did I thinke I saw the [...]treames which were below, haste as for sorrow they had miss'd that fate, and those aboue come hastely to catch; if not to touch yet one kind looke on them? this while I lou'd, and so was sencible, but since Dispaire had marryed mee, and I wedded my selfe to chast Dianas life. Let me intreat you sweete Nimph said the Queene, to tell me all your story, and this night will be more pleasing to me, if so spent, then any that my for­tunes yet haue knowne, she then with reuerence due to her state, thus did beginne her tale.

My name (great Queene said shee) is Allarina, a Sheepheardesse by birth, and first profession, and so had still beene, had I not lucklesly profess'd a Louers name, and left my former happy (because contented) life. At four­teene yeares of age I first felt paine, but young, and ignorant, I scarce did know what was my torment; [...] distempered was, slept not, nor fed, my cou­lor waxed pale, my mirth decayed, and sighs did wholy breath my breath [...] admire my change the Sheepheards generally did, bewaile my ill the sheep­herdesses would, my parents grieued for me, I for my part knew only that I knew not what I ayld, till one day walking to a pleasant wood, which was vpon a hill, I did consider with my selfe, what was the first originall of all this paine; I could not suddenly find out the ground, till at the last considering well each thing, I found his name most pleasing was to mee, and so as I did in my heart euer thanke the meanes that did bring him to bee but spoken of. None in my thoughts, appeard so excellent, none spake like him, none sung like him, nothing could hee doe, that did not seeme best, and nothing done by others but did shew dull, and quite voyd of any pleasingnes, so ex­cellent appeard he vnto mee. When this came to my mind, then straight I sight, blush'd, and layd my hand vpon my panting heart, and then cryd out, I hope this is not loue; but loue no sooner was (by poore me) nam'd, but as if cald, he straight possess'd my heart, alas I yeelded then to know I lou'd, and loue ioy'd, I confess'd I was his slaue, and such a slaue was I alas soone growne, as but that slauery [...] did affect: my health then alterd, and my mo­ther put me into the hands of a Phisitian to bee recouered (as shee hop'd) by him, but all in vaine, it was not in his power, the cure was not ordaind for him.

Then came my loue to visite me, which gaue me life, and comfort: thus I did remaine, and fiue yeares loued him, yet hee ignorant that my affecti­on so was placed on him. I surely borne for this conclusion, could not per­mit my selfe to say, or shew I lou'd more then in poore sad lookes, blushing when he did aske me of my sheepe, vnsteddily, and with a downe cast looke, not daring to behold what most I loued, for feare of burning what was scor­ched before. I gaue my answers vnresoluedly; hee by all this perceiued that I lou'd, for twas not sillines he saw, that made that innocent-like fashion shew in me, wherefore he meant to watch me, and so find where my loue was; but then it was too late, for not imagining it was himselfe, hee marryed. After this I grieued, and almost dyed, but remedy was past, and I vndone; yet one night, (blessed night for me, & my desires) he came, & fetched me to his [Page 175] sisters house, where being set betweene vs two, hee fell into discourse of many pretty things, and all of loue, and all as I did finde, to gayne by arte, to know were I did like; at last we fel vnto a foolish sport, which was, to tell truly what we were asked, and so to draw a lot who should demand; it fell to him, who pretily to couer his intent, he first demanded of his sister, what life shee thought the pleasantest & best. She said, the shepheards. Then he ask­ed, if euer she did wish in loue, and gaine it to her full content? She said, she neuer could obtaine so iust a satisfaction, for her wish was still aboue the be­nefit she gaind. Then was it come to me to be his seruant, his question was, Which was the blessedst halfe houre I euer knew? I said, a time I followed a poore bird to shoote at it, and as I thought (O mee the dearest thought) a thought which ioyed my soule, I hit the bird. Who did you thinke of (said he)? Then I blusht, he vrg'd, and swore I marr'd the Play, and must bee pu­nisht for so foule offence. I pardon askt, and said I would confesse: but when I came to say but these few words, It was your selfe, my speech againe did faile, my spirits fainted, I looked pale, and red, and sigh'd, and smild, and all in instant space; loue neuer had more strange diuersitie then in me at that pre­sent; I was dumb, then spake a little, halfe what I should say, and turned the rest to comfort my poore hart: then did he take me in his armes, and strictly did coniure me to say out. Why then (said I) I thought on him I loued: this made him yet more curious, holding me still, perceiuing I was not displeased, sweetely perswading me to say the rest; when I with soft and feareful words, afraid to heare my selfe say, I did loue; 'Twas you, said I: he then 'twixt ioy and greefe, wept, the like did I. This pass'd, continually he tended my poore flock, forsooke his owne, if they did stray from mine, his songs were of mee, and my thoughts on him.

Many sweete, pleasant, and delightfull games he did inuent to giue con­tent to vs, at last his sister grew to malice his respect to me, and to discerne all was for my delight, which hee did studdy, or present to vs: she had much pride, and such as Sheephardesses seldome know, yet flow'd it in her, who else was like vs, milde, and sufficiently witty. This her malice flew vnto the height of slighting me, which I perceauing, let her go alone vnwaighted on, or yet accompanied by mee. Two yeares this did indure, when all plagues grew, for then his wife did likewise did likewise stomacke me, and out of the poore witte she had, (which s [...]ce was sense) did manifest her rage. I was in troth most sorry for her hate, so much I loued him, as I loued all was his, and her, though not so well as the worst beast he had, since shee alone I saw my barre for blisse. Hee saw my patience, which was oft times mooud euen into spite, yet couer'd, and suppresd with the deere power of my deerer loue. Then was there entertayn'd at braue Mantinia, a great Embassador, whe­ther we were call'd, among the strange delights, to represent our innocent pastimes, in which, my loue and I were placed for the cheife, for he at wrest­ling, and those sports of strength, did farre excell the others of these plaines; my selfe for pastorall songs, dances, and such like had the first place among the maids, and so came I, great Princesse, to be bless [...]d with seeing you, which sight still liues ingrafted in my breast. But what became then of your loue, said the Queene? Why that alas was al my sorrow, and my change cride she, grew from his change, which in this sort befell: hee hauing thus in pure and [Page 184] spotlesse sort gaind my best loue, could not yet be content with such enioy­ing, but did couet more, which to preuent, I found conuenient meanes and slights still to avoyd, which he perceau'd, yet then affected me so much, as nothing could withdraw him from my loue: arguments hee would frame, euen against his owne desires, and sweare, that where true loue was, loose desires were distant, and vnknowne, nor could a man so much affect, where hee had once gaind all, as when he knew there did from him lye hid, a richer treasure then hee had possest, and more deuoutly, and with greater zeale did he loue, where he still was so refused, then if hee had by yeelding obtained all. I did beleeue, and much commend his mind, and what I prais'd, or lik'd he likewise seem'd to be affected with; but what in men can last in certaine kind? there was a meeting amongst vs, and thither on May day euery yeere (beeing the day we celebrated feasts) the rarest, and the choycest beautyes came, among the rest one, who in truth I must confesse, was faire aboue the common beautyes in our time, but of the meanest parentage and ranke, be­ing a seruant to a Shepherdesse, who was of greatest place, for there is dif­ference, and distinction made of their degrees, (though all below your fight) as well as in the great ones, and as much curious choyce, and shame to match below their owne degrees, as among Princes, whose great bloods are toucht, if staind with basenesse in the match they make. This woman yet allur'd my loue to change, and what was worse, to scorne me; long I was, before I would perceiue it, yet at last too cleerely it discouered was: she then atten­ded on the May Lady, of purpose there inticed, where he for his wished ends might her behold.

The heardsman then, who kept the Cattell both of his sisters & his owne, did grow enamour'd of this beautious Lasse; at last, loue gaind the hand of iudgement, and so priuately they marryed, then did he grow more sure, and surely did inioy, for who could with much cruelty refuse, especially not borne to chastity: then were his looks all cast on her, his speeches wholy bent to her, her wit admir'd, her iests told, wondred at, into all company she must bee admitted, all respect her, and I quite cast off; my soule was wounded with it, and my heart wasted, and dryed vp; that truely I was growne a woman, worthlesse for outward parts to be looked on; and thus tormented, I desired oft to speake with him, but hee did more shunne mee, then euer once he coueted my sight. If I came in, where he alone did stand, instantly he went out, or would turne his ba [...]ke, in sharpest scorne vnto my louing eyes. Aye me, cryd I, am I come to this passe? haue I lost all my liberty for this? haue I aduentured death, and shame, to come vnto this shamefull end in loue? my parents haue I left, and they displeasd haue rated mee, for my immoderate loue, and all to be requited with gaine, at last of fowle disdaine, for feruent truth? The world was fild with my constancy, all with broad eyes saw his disloyalty; some pitied me, others flouted me; I grieued, & yet at last resolu'd either to speak or write; speake alas I could no [...], for I did feare to giue offence, still fondly louing him: when I was in my bed, and thought of all my woes, I could resolue to speake my mind, and frame my speeches in as moderate kind as might be, rather demanding pit­tie, then to discouer, that I did dislike him for his change; but when I saw him, and did view his eyes, if on me, cast but in a cruell sort, so farre I was [Page 185] from any power, or true ability, to touch of wrongs, or to beg poore compas­sion, as I stood amazed, trembling, and euen as one cast vnto death. Then did I silently lament this harme, and mournefully bewaile my misery, speaking vnto my selfe, as if to him, and frame his answers like vnto his lookes, then weepe, and spend whole nights in this distresse, my heart almost vnable to sustaine so curst a Dialogue, as I had framd millions of times to vexe my soule withal, at last I writ a letter, I remember these being the contents, and almost the same words.

IF what I write may prooue displeasing vnto you, I wish my hand had lost the vse to write, when I writ this, my eyes, sight for seeing it, and my heart, had then rent with sorrow for punishment, in so offending you, who for al your cruelty, can do no other then loue you still. But the affliction that I am fallen into by your change, makes me send these lines vnto you, & to beseech you by the loue you once bare me, to let me know the cause of your great strangenesse towards me; if proceeding from my part, be iust; and tell it me, who will not onely curse my selfe for doing it, but with all true humili­tie demand a pardon for it; my soule is purely yours, in loue vntoucht, vnstaind of any blame or spot; faith was the ground whereon I placed my loue, loyalty, the hope I held it with, and my selfe your most vnfained louer, the poore creature to bee looked vpon with reward for these: but you giue scorne, alas once looke on me, that beautie which decayed now in me, once pleas'd you best; when wasted it, but in those yeares I still was true, and chast to you? if my face be not so faire, my mind is fairer, cloath'd in truth, and loue, and thus will I euer deserue you more then any: pity me, alas I craue it, and most iustly from your hands. Did I neglect at any time, what I did owe, to pay vnto your will? if so, my confidence might make me erre, but neuer did I wil­lingly commit such fault, blame then the trust I had, and iust assurance of my confi­dence in you: will you reiect me, since I pine for you, the teares which still for you I shed, haue marr'd, and dull'd mine eyes, and made me worthlesse to behold; looke then but on my faith, and pitty me, who will die as I was, and am, which is sincerely yours.

This I read, this I corrected, and often staind with blots, which my true teares in falling as I writ had made. I sent it by a youth, who still had lou'd me, and did serue my loue; he gaue it him one morning as he waked: his answere was, that he would speake with me. The next day he did come, and found me in my bed, bathing my self in my poore, yet choice teares; he most vnkindly onely sat him downe, not once so much as looking on my woes, or me, spea­king these words, with eies another way, & voice displeasd: You writ a han­som letter, did you not, said he? Alas said I, what should I do opprest? I am half mad, distracted with your scorne; I could not silent be, nor yet could speake. You wrong'd your self, said he. Wherein cri'd I? With that he rose, & not gi­uing me so much as kind, or vnkind looks, spake to another whom he cald in, and so together left me and my woe. After that time hee stroue by all plaine waies, and craftie slights, and all to make me see, how I was cast away, and left by him. I patiently did seeme to beare my losse: but oh my heart could not let me doe so, though in the day I stroue to couer griefe, in night time I did o­pen all the doores, and entertaine each seruant that woe had. Once I remem­ber after many moneths that this disaster had befallen mee, hee merrily did speake among vs all, and also to me, as one among the rest, and the greatest stranger to his thoughts: I ioyed that so he fauoured me; for though he vsed mee, as but if in triall of my truth, I earnestly loued him, and ioyed to [Page 186] see him: my poore cold heart did warme it selfe to thinke of what had past, and leapt when I saw him; but yet that leape was like, or did resemble a strong conuultionat the latest gaspe, for then it fell downe dead in my de­spaire: but being thus together, hee was pleased to say some verses to mee, which were good, and truly such as I did much affect. I thought they were his owne, and so was vext, because to me they did not then belong, as once all that he made, or framed were. He did commend them very much himselfe, and said, he liked the strength that was in them. I said they were most good, and like him, which made them much the better, so discoursing on, I tooke the boldnesse to say something to him, knowing that they might speake in kind for me, and yet my selfe not beg againe, they were these.

He made no answere, but onely said, they were very fine ones: after this he continued in his peremptory course of hating me, and I in my poore way of suffering all, till so ill I did grow, as though not in him, yet in each one els, I did obtaine, what I did claime from him, for they did sorrow for my mise­rie, and he still triumph, as if in a gaine to ouerthrow a soule giuen to his will. At last, extremitie of griefe and paine, brought me vnable to doe any thing: those that best did consider my mishape, iustly did know the cause; others smile, and say, 'twas, for I was forsaken; others laugh, and say, I was growne dull: some said, my prose was gone, and that I onely could expresse my selfe in verse. These I did heare, and this in truth had troubled me, if greater mat­ters had not shut my eares and heart from weighing such slight things as these. I gaue my selfe then wholly to the fields, nor kept I any company but with my flocke, and my next kindred which would visit me. With my poore sheepe I did discourse, and of their liues make my descipherd life: rockes were my obiects, and my daily visits; meekenesse my whole ambition, losse my gaine; and thus I liu'd, and thus still ranne to death. But one day as I past among the rocks, which were both steepe, yet easie to ascend; the coun­trie hilly, the earth blacke, the mourning onely couerd with Heath and [Page 187] stones, to expresse the ill nature of that soile: I went still in it, till at last de­scending one of the steepest, and most ragged of those hills, the top of which was crownd with milke white rocks, in bignesse strange, and fashion farre more rare; I sat downe in a stone of mighty height, which like a chaire in iust proportion, did giue mee roome and ease. Yet some thing vnsafe it was to looke downe (for those whose eyes will dazell if on any high place) for the height was great, and that stood, as if onely framd to sit, and see the bottome directly vnder. Looking a while, I saw some folkes below, and as it were, a Spring where they did drinke: I left the rocke then, and did straight descend vnto the Plaine, the descent was not tedious, but slippery. When I thither came, of all the company, one man was able to declare any thing of the na­ture of it, for the rest were strangers, and not the same Countrimen. I ciuilly demanded, if that spring were medicinable, or what made them with so much affectionate ceremony to drinke, and as it were, adore it. That man made an­swere, it was that diuine and sacred water, which did cure all harmes. I blamd him, knowing he had said too much, since only one was fit to bee termed so; but he, more seruant to adoration then diuinity, told me many strange works that water had performd. I did for nouelties take of the streame; drinking of it, I found it did me no harme. Then I demanded, what it would procure? he said, Quiet of spirit, comfort in this life. How long I demanded ought we to drinke thereof? Seuen times (he replied), and thrice seuen dayes. I liuing not farre off, resolu'd the task, and dranke, and found such good, as soone I was alterd in al things but my truth, which now alone to me remaines vnharmd; my whole condition alterd, I grew free, and free from loue, to which I late was slaue. Then finding this true vertue in my selfe, and my poore selfe re­turnd to me againe, I did embrace it in the same true sort that loue held me, and so we did agree. I loue my selfe, my selfe now loueth me. But after to a­uoid all new delights, or to bee sued too, or intised againe, [...] put on these ha­bits, hoping by purenesse, and vowed chastity, to win Diana's fauour, which now is all my ambition, and my hope. Thus here I liue in expectation, not as­surance of her acceptance: into this Brooke I oftentimes doe goe, and now was going iust as you did come; remembrance of my faith I keepe, and ioy alone in that, without desire, or thought of loues varietie. My daies remai­ning, I haue giuen to truth, and as a Nimph I still will here remaine; my name I also changed with my life, from Allarina to Siluiana, these habits keepe me from discourse with men, my vow from yeelding; so I now liue free, and vn­controld of Fortunes selfe. My Mistrisse I adore, [...] keepe her Feasts deuout­ly, and thus I doe remaine your humblest Vassall, mighty Princesse, else sole Mistrisse of my thoughts, and freedomes rule.

Happy you are (said the excellent Queene) so to bee able to master your selfe: but did you neuer see him since you wore these habits? Oft-times great Princesse (said she) I haue seene him, and so perceiued desire new in him to win me back, but now it is too late. I must confesse, who once had told me, I could haue beheld his face without my soules affection to it, I should hardly haue belieued it, much more to find my heart so free from loue, as now it is, and as he made himselfe to me, euen a meere stranger; so are now mine ey [...]s and thoughts as farre, from touch of loue, as if I had been borne neuer to know loue, or such passions, when as once my eyes hung after him, [Page 188] as steru'd without his sight, my soule lou'd him as a blessing, and I was indeed only his, now am I free my selfe, void of those troubles, loue prouoked in me; I can with quietnes heare all his acts, see him this day intolerably fond of one I hated, then change to a new; all that mooues not me, saue only that I out of pity, pity their ill haps. Once I was iealous, vext if hee did throw by chance a looke on any, but my selfe, that fault he punisht with his sterne neg­lect, & plagueing me in the sharpest kind, striuing to make me see his change, and scornefully expressing to my sight, disdaine of me, and fondnesse in such loues. These are requited now, he growne to pitie, when I scorne to take it, he to loue me, when I am vowed else-where: thus loue rewarded is with scorne, and scorne, with pitilesse regard returning home. I cannot yet belieue (said Pamphilia) but you loue him still, for all this liberall and excellent dis­course. I neuer will liue houre (said Siluiana) to hate him, though I am made free from bond of vaine affection; & thus much truly I doe still remaine his friend and seruant, to defend him from all harmes, I may by my respect make void, and were it in my way to doe him, though a iust ill turne, and many leagues off, I might do [...] him good, that iourney I would take, yet loue I not ought, but faire chastitie. This sweet discourse concluded, the braue Queene tooke leaue of the fine Nymph, and so returnd, with promise, when she hun­ted in those parts, she would find her: then going to the Court, she went into her chamber to take rest; little of that sufficed her, for though great as any, yet in loue was as much subiect, as the meanest borne. Pamphilia (said she) can thy great spirit permit thee to bee bound, when such as Allarina can haue strength to master, and command euen loue it selfe? Scorne such seruilitie, where subiects soueraignize; neuer let so meane a thing ore-rule thy greatest power; either command like thy self, or fall downe vassall in despaire. Why should fond loue insult, or venture in thy sight? let his babish tricks be priz'd by creatures vnder thee, but disdaine thou such a gouernment. Shall blind­nes master thee, and guide thee? looke then sure to fall. Shall way ward folly rule thee? looke to be despis'd. Shall foolish wantonnes intice thee? hate such vice. Shall children make thee follow their vaine tricks? scorne then thy self [...], and all such vanities. Yet when all this is said, and that the truest know­ledge tells me these are true, my wounded heart with bleeding doth professe vassalladge to the great and powerfull might of loue. I am prisoner, guard me then deere loue, keepe me but safely free from yeelding, and keepe me, as thou hast already made me, thine.

Much of the time, she had to be at rest, she thus imploy'd: then rysing, the day telling her all brightnesse waited on her; she rose, and went to the sweete Limena, who accompanied her, into her sad fine walkes, being there alone, (saue with her second selfe,) surely said she, you that so perfectly and so happily haue loued, cannot in this delightfull place, but remember those sweete (yet for a while curst) passages in loue, which you haue ouergone: speake then of loue, and speake to me, who loue that sweete discourse, (next to my loue) aboue all other things, if that you cannot say more of your selfe, then your deare trust hath grac'd me withall, tell of some others, which as truly shall be silently inclosed in my breast, as that of yours; let me but vn­derstand the choice varieties of Loue, and the mistakings, the changes, the crosses; if none of these you know, yet tell me some such fiction, it may [Page 199] be I shall be as lucklesse as the most vnfortunate; shew me examples, for I am so void of hope, much lesse of true assurance, as I am already at the height of all my ioy. Limena beheld her, both with loue, and pitty, at last; my dearest friend (said shee) fall not into despaire, before ioy can expresse, what surely is ordain'd for you. Did euer any poore drop happen to fall but still for loue? Will you be poorer then the poorest drop of raine, which for the loue to earth, falls on it? raise vp your spirit, that which is worthy to Monarchise the world, drowne it not, nor make a graue by sad conceits, to bury what should liue for royalty; yet if you doe desire to heare, of Loue, and of loues crosses, I will tell you a discourse, the Sceane shall be in my Countrey, and the rather will I tell it, since in that, you shall see your selfe truly free from such distresse, as in a perfect glasse, none of your true perfections can be hidden, but take not this tale for truth. In Cicilie (not far from the place which gaue my Father birth, and where I much was bred) there liu'd a Lady, mother to many, and delicate Children; but, whether her fortune fell with the losse of her Husband, (as many, wofully haue with that felt their vndoing) or that misfortune (so great a Prince) ought not to be vn­attended, I know not, but she affecting her friends, as friendship could chal­lenge, a young Lord came with one of her neerest allies to visit her; this vi­sitation made him see her daughter, elder then three more, that at that same time were in her house: he receiuing welcome, tooke it, and occasion to come againe, those againe commings brought mischeuous affection, that af­fection, mischiefes selfe, for thus it happ'ned.

The Lady lou'd him, hee liked her, he sued, she innocent could not deny, but yeares did passe before they did enioy. At last, three yeares almost worne out, he found a time, or rather her, much vnprouided for refusall; both ex­treamly louing, nothing was amisse as they imagin'd, nor was ought denyde, some yeares this passed too, in all which time, shee who did onely loue, for Loues sake, not doubting least that might bee a touch vnto her affection, or spot in so much clearenesse, as her heart held to him, let busie speeches pass vnregarded, smil'd when friends bid her beware, esteeming her constant opi­nion of his worth, richer then truths which she thought falshoods while they were against him. Thus the poore Lady was deceiu'd, & most miserably vn­done, he falling in loue with one so inferior to her in respect of her qualities, compar'd with hers, though of greater ranke euery way, as his neerest friends condemn'd him for so ill a choice; but she was crafty, and by art faire, which made him looke no further. At last, it shewed so plainely as she must (if not wilfully blinde) see with the rest; but how did she see it? alas with dying eyes; all passions compar'd to hers were none, the ordinary course of sorrow abounded in her, rising to such a height, as out flew dispaire; melancholy was her quietest companion, while monefully she would sit, dayes without words, and nights without sleepe. Oft would she tell these paines before him, though not to him, pittifully would she lament, and hee take no more notice of it, then if he heard it spoken of an other. Alas would she cry, I am no more worthy to liue, I am a shame to my house, a staine to my sex, and a most pittifull example of all mischeife; shamefull creature, why liuest thou to disgrace all thy friends? poore soule, (poore indeed, but in true goodnes) leaue this vnhappy body, take thy selfe away, and when thou hast [Page 190] left me, it may be thou mayst be better, and win pittie: hence foorth must blame infould me, now must shame couer me, and dispaire with losse de­stroy me; yet hadst thou chang'd to a better, and constanter, it would not so much haue vext mee, but when I see my deserts, my loue, and my selfe cast off, onely by subtiltie betrayed, and in so vild a place, alas it rents my heart, both with losse, and your fault. Can worth procure no more fauour? must all yeeld to outward fairenes? she is faire I confesse, so once you thought I was, and if not so perfect, thanke your owne strangenes, and my teares shed for your falshood, which haue furrow'd, & worne wrinkles, (where smooth­nesse was) with their continuall falling. Had you no way to shun me, or my loue, but by your change? you might haue iustly dealt yet, and but say'd, I can no longer loue you, I had then sate downe alone with losse, but now doubly afflicted, as loosing, and being deceaud; your want of truth, is a greater plague to me then my misery, in that I lou'd you better then my selfe, so much is your vnworthines my extreamest torment. Oft was I told that I would hurt my selfe in trusting.

I reply'd, I had rather bee wretched in losse, then vnhappy in suspition; these now befall me, yet suspect I not, for apparent truth tells me I am for­lorne. Once I remember I was to speake to him, and (foole) I tooke the time when she was by, with what scorne did he put me off, and slightnesse heare the businesse, which concernd himselfe, yet cōming from me, was vn­pleasing: would yet I could be more lucklesse, so it came not from thy worth­lesnesse, for 'tis that, not my misfortune, tortures me. While yet shee thus continued in her woes, her beauty dying, as her fortune wasted, he carelesse man of any good, or respect, saue of his owne desires, would many times come to her, rather as I coniecture, thinking to betray her, then for any affection hee then bore to her, while she (poore haplesse louer) neuer de­ny'd what he commanded. Poore soule, how glad would she be to receiue one looke; one word gaue her new life againe, but a smile made her hope, which lasted to make her the stronger, to suffer againe the misery he allotted her. Well, so it continued, and she was vndone, imagine then, braue Queene, in what misery she was, and most, when he that should haue comforted her harme, held still his curst neglect: Till being neere her end, as it was thought, rather (and onely sure for his owne honour) then her safety, hee sent often to her; this made her take ioy, assuring her selfe, he now felt, he was bound to loue her, since thus she was neere death for him; this made her hope, he would be gratefull in affection, though not passionate. Much did he flatter then, and protest respect of her, aboue his life, and that her life and safety were more deare to him, then his owne heart bloud. Expresseles consolati­on were these vowes, but broken, greatest plagues; what should we trust, when man the excellentest creature, doth thus excell in ill? No sooner was she amended, but he sent againe with all shew of affection, his comming he excused, as out of care to her, lest others would haue visited her too, and so might trouble her in weakenes, & bring danger to her health. These glosses were to her like faith, beleeud, & cheerish'd, til soone was she made to know, mens words are onely breath, their oathes winde, and vowes water, to begin with her ensuing griefe, her new borne hopes soone died, those tyes she had knit vp were broken asunder, in more violence, which death brought heauy [Page 191] misery vnto the mother of these misaduentures; for soone after fell his di­rect leauing her, not scanting any contempt or scorne, but turning all shew of fauour to her; after that fell a new change, for then this dainty wo­man must yeeld her fortunes to a new choyce in him, and to an other, whose beauty wins him from her craftinesse. Then did she likewise fall to new dis­likes, crying out 'gainst disloyalty, complaind of her misfortune, cursd her credulity, and fond hopes, neuer ceasing complaints, nor reuilings, for her thoughts, chusing the first forsaken louer, to heare her accuse him euen vnto her face, he who had from her chang'd lately to her, and now from her vn­to an other loue; cruell this needs must bee to see him blamd, and for that fault which she had suffered for, alas then would she say, what hap haue I to accuse my Fate, and still to heare the accusation from an other to the same purpose: Disloyall Lincus, hath thy poore louer Alena deseru'd this hate? canst thou without shame consider my wrongs? thinke on my deserts, I challeng none, but leaue them to thy selfe to iudge. I am your lost for­saken, I am yet your truest loue, and I am indeed the vnhappiest sufferer of your blame. Pelia complaines of your disloyalty, and to mee, from whom you flew to her, if shee dislike, what shall I doe, who beare the marks of shame, and losse for you? my reputation marr'd, my honour in the dust; are these requitalls to be scornd, despised, and hated at the last? vnkind man, for worse I cannot call you, yet turne backe againe, and look on my desearts, if not on me, and you shal find cleerenes in them, to discerne these other faults by purenes to tel you, none but it self deserues you, griefe to mooue all your compassions to it, lastly, iust claimes to make you gratefull; but you I see despise all vertuous wayes, goe on your course then while I mourne for you, and my extreamest crosse. Thus did she oft com­plaine, yet neuer shund his sight, least he should thinke his change could al­ter her [...] the more he saw her patience, the more, and insolentlyer did hee presse on it, striuing of purpose to afflict her most, which the sight of his al­teration needs must bring, when she beheld him kisse his new loues hand, with melting heart, and passionate respect, smile in her eyes, begge for her grace, write to her praise, and expression of his loue; these alas cryd shee were the baites that first betrayed me, thus once he did to me, thus fond was hee of mee, thus careles of all else, but now transformed, as is his truth, and faith. Many perswaded her to keepe away, to scorn as much as he, to hate as much as he; no would she cry, his fault shal neuer make me il, nor wil I chang though he so fickle bee, yet bee assured I loue him not, nor can bee more de­ceiued by him, or any other, onely thus far the remnant of my loue extends, that I wonll take any course, though painefull, dangerous, and hazard my life, to keepe him from least harme.

Thus did a loiall louer liue, and this is cōmonly the end of loyaltie to men, who neuer knew but the end of their owne wills, which are to delight (only Perissus excepted). And to satisfie you, I haue giuen you this short example of true loue, faigned I confesse the story is, yet such may be, and will bee lo­uers Fates.

Pamphilia gaue great attention to it, and the more, because her last aduen­ture, and this discourse did somewhat neere concurre, as ending in misfor­tune. why (said she to her selfe), should all chuse: these or such like wofull [Page 192] histories, of purpose to torment me with feare, that I may liue to see like woes? alas, Loue sheild me from such harme; I now behold cleere ioy, so did Siluania, and Alena, and Pelia, yet what conclusion haue they? vtter ruine and distresse for reward. These thoughts so inwardly afflicted her, as she sat still, her colour not changing, nor any motion in her outward part, while the soule onely wrought in her, & yet, not to let the world be ignorant of her o­peration, sent teares from out her eyes, to witnesse the affliction that she felt; teares which did fall with such louelynes, as louelines did fall and bide with them. So much did Limena loue her, as shee greeu'd for those teares, and with cryes gaue testimony of her sorrow, while she vnstirr'd, still let them slide vpon her softest cheeks, as if she did consent to honour her true teares, with touching that earths-heauenly place; her heart did beate with paine, and I thinke greefe, that her eyes should be more happy in ability to demon­strate her paine, then that which best knowing her mind could attaine vnto; I feele said it the torment, they shew it, like players of an others part, and so did it swell, as Limena was forced to helpe, and with comfort and perswasi­ons appease the rage.

Thus they continued till Nanio the dwarfe came to them, telling his La­dy the happy tydings of Rosindy's arriuall, with Selarinus, this awaked her, and made her melancholy companion, yeeld to her better friend, ioy; back they went together, and with much content met the King Rosindy and his companion in the Hall, where the King and all the Court were assembled, ioy plentifully disposing it selfe to euery one. Amphilanthus holding his course towards St. Maura was thither brought safely, and speedily, then going to the Rocke, he tooke Vrania in his armes vsing these wordes.

My dearest Sister, and the one halfe of my life, Fortune (neuer fa­uourable to vs) hath ordain'd, a strange aduenture for vs, and the more cruell is it, since not to be auoyded, nor to be executed but by my hands, who best loue you; yet blame me not, since I haue assured hope of good successe, yet apparent death in the action, I must (not to prolong time, or amaze you with discourse, alas that I must say these words) deerest Vrania, I must throw thee into the Sea; pardon me, Heauen appoints it so. My deerest brother sayd she, what neede you make this scruple? You wrong me much to thinke that I feare death, being your sister, or cheerish life, if not to ioy my parents; fulfill your command, and be assured it is doubly welcome, comming to free me from much sorrow, and more, since giuen mee by your hands: those hands that best I loue, and you to giue it me, for whose deare sake, I onely lou'd to liue, and now as much delight and wish to die. Kinde teares proceeded from them both, and mournfull silence did possesse their tongus, till she againe besought, and hee refused; but yet at last resoluing, if she pe­rish'd to ende with her: he tooke her in his armes, and gently let her slide, shewing it rather to be her slipping from him, then his letting her fall, and as shee fell, so fell his heart in woe, drownd in as deepe an Ocean of des­paire; but soone was he call'd to wonder, and all ioy; for no sooner had she suncke into the water, but the waues did beare her vp againe, to shewe the glory they had in bearing such perfections; but then the Deepes, am­bitious of such a prize, sought to obtaine her, opening their hearts to let her sincke into them, when two men in a boate came rowing towards her, [Page 193] and one who lay in a craggy part of the Rocke, furiously threw himselfe vn­to her, she only saying, Liue happy Amphilanthus, and my onely deare Parse­lius, farewell: that calld him, who leaping in, cry'd; Parselius will neuer out­liue Vrania; and sunke straight with her, then were both pulled vp, and safely brought to land, by the help of the other two, who leaping out of their boat into the sea, spared not danger, or life it selfe; all foure then soundly washed, came a shoare, where Amphilanthus embraced them, and with tea [...]es of ioy welcom'd his sister, and his friends, who now well vnderstood the operation of that water; for Parselius knew nothing of his former loue to her, onely the face of Vrania, and being assured of her neerenesse to him in bloud, reioyced with them, the others did the like. Now was Steriamus released of his vn­fortunate loue, esteeming Pamphilia wholly for her worth, not with passion thinking of her. Vrania's desires were no other, then to goe into Italy to see her father: and Dolorindus to accompany his friends whither they would goe. Thus happily were all deliuered of the most burdenous tormenting af­fliction that soules can know, Loue, and Loue was pleased, because now he might haue new worke in new kinds. Parselius longs to see his Dalinea: Vra­nia wisheth it also without iealousie, or anger, but loues her heartily for her Cosins sake: most happy Princesse to be deliuerd from such a hell, as louing him, who had (although so neere to her) been so farre from truth to her. Amphilanthus was so ouercome with comfort and ioy, discerning this fortu­nate and blessed issue of the aduentures, as kindnesse now wrought like sor­row: then embracing all, they tooke to the boats, the Hermit going with them to the Iland, where with kind louing perswasions, they inuited him to leaue that place, and to accompany them thence: but hee excused himselfe, promising to be ready at any time to doe them seruice, but his vow he could not breake: then he intreated them, that if by chance in their trauels they happened into Dalmatia, they would enquire for his vnfortunate daughter Bellemira, and by some meanes to let him vnderstand of her. They promised this: so with more kind farewels, they parted from the Hermit, and at Amphi­lanthus ea [...]nest intreaty went together for Italy, where they arriued, and so past vnto the Court. But what ioy? what content did all hearts feele, in see­ing the Princesse of true worth and admiration returnd? Then did the old king, whose haire and beard like snow make a true resemblance of it, ioy (like the Sun) heating and melting; so did ioy melt his hart into teares, & they like a thaw, dropping on the lower snow, he held them in his armes; they kneeld, he kist them, but could not speake, so was he wrapped and ouerwhelmd with ioy. At last Amphilanthus spake, beseeching him to salute the other Princes, which he did, and then turnd to them, and againe kissed, and embraced them. This being past, they were conducted to their lodgings: Vrania hauing rich robes fit for her birth brought vnto her, till then hauing worne her Shepher­desse attire, which she resolu'd to doe, as long as she liu'd vnseene of her fa­ther, & only to receiue them from his hands. Now was Italy fild with delight, being the pleasing'st and delightful'st of any; sports are new in [...]nted to giue welcome, and Iusts proclaimed, wherein these Knights must also shew their skil, the Ladies came from al parts to see Vrania, the Knights to honor Amphi­lanthus: the first day of the Iusts, the King being ready to go forth of the Hall to the lists, there entred an old man, in habit like a Pilgrim, with a staffe of that [Page 194] fashion in his hands, bare-footed, and with all demonstration of that life, he spake lowd, and besought the King to stay till he had deliuerd some things fit for his knowledge, then all placing themselues, he began thus.

Most happy King, receiue these speeches from me (a miserable man, if you pitie not), a Prince I am by birth, but a Villaine by nature; Prince I was of Istria, and brother to the King of Dalmatia, proud I was, and accompanying that vice, I had malice, and all ill abiding in mee, which causd a detestable treason in me, for hearing many prophesies, & likelihoods of the greatnes, & worth of Amphilanthus, I studied how I might any way crosse the successe, he then being but of tender yeares, scarce hauing attained to seuen yeares of age; but that which most moou'd me, was, that a learned man said, he should rule ouer the greatest part of the world, and liue to be Lord of my Country also [...] to auoid this, I vowed to loose no meanes or opportunitie; wherefore I went to the Court of my brother, where there then liu'd a great, and a wise man; this man confirm'd, what before I had heard, adding more vnto it for his in­crease of honour, for he had cast his natiuitie, hauing gaind it from one, who was at the birth of the worlds wonder, your sonne.

Vpon this I disguised my selfe, and hither I came into your Country and Court, where I found the Queene newly brought to bed of a daughter; this I thought might be a meanes for my safety, for no magicke could withstand the happy fortune of Amphilanthus (though a danger he should fall into vn­certaine to recouer it, and by a woman). So determining to haue my ends some way, hauing some skill in Magicke, I cast a sleepe vpon all the atten­dants where the babe lay, and being in an euening, tooke the child, and con­ueyed it away with me, purposing to keepe her to protect me from danger, while I would practise the ruine of the Prince by any deuili [...]h plot, and to be the cause of as much hurt as might be to his worthinesse: but otherwise, and better for the good of all these parts it happened, I being in all my charmes and spells, preuented by a greater power, yet was I glad I had the child, with whom I tooke my way to the sea, where fitting downe, and looking on the sweetenesse and delicacie of the babe, vnawares by Robbers I was set vpon, no helpe being left me by learning, or art, to relieue me in that aduenture, death being onely expected by me, they prooued more mercifull, sauing my life, but took what I had from me, and the child, which most of al I esteemd; then wofully did I returne to mine owne Country, there I fell to my books, and called others of that art vnto my aide: but doe what I, or they could, we were barrd from knowledge or guesse, what was become of the child, or what course it should run, heauenly powers hiding it from mee, to keepe her safety neerer to her, till this yeare it was discouered to mee, that shee was safe in the conduct of a great Prince, her estate vnknowne to her selfe, and him, nor was her inprisonment hid from me, though the place and manner was; her dis­guise was shewed mee, being Shepherdesses attire, since which time I haue bestowed my time and labour in seeking her, and now Sir, where I stole her; here I find he [...], this being your daughter, and I, (Sir,) the Traytor.

This then being done, they all againe embraced her, but Vrania desired to know one thing more, which was how the Mantell, and Purse was left vnto her. That (said the old man) was done by him or her I know not which, that protected you, nor can you know that, till you finish an [Page 195] aduenture, which is onely left for you to end. Then did euery one adiudge the old Prince to no lesse then death; but the King nor Amphilanthus would consent to it, saying, Their ioyes and welcomes should no [...] bee mixed with bloud: then did he professe repentance, and for that, and their great mercies, he receiued pardon, and so returned towards his country, halfe way in his [...]ourney he died: thus the aduenture concluded, they went forth to the Iusts which were ready to begin with their presence. The first day was conclu­ded by a match made of twelue to twelue, with sword & speare, which were to their renownes performed: then the P [...]inces determined to manifest their valours, yet euery one priuately taking this resolution, made a shrewd mistaking among them: for the King and Queene being placed, there entred a Knight in black armour, his deuise, the Wo [...]ld burning, and Cupid houe­ring in the flame; this Knight was straight encountred by a Prince of Apu­lia, a braue and valiant Gentleman, but too weake for him [...] then the Princes of Vihin, of Milan, Sauoy, Florence, Mantua, Modina, and many others met him, and so the earth, as his Liuery. Amphilanthus seeing this, stole away, hoping to reuenge his Country men against this stranger; so taking a white armour, like a young Knight came in, and fitly; for then did the black knight want worke: but long he did not complaine of that, for this encounter was strong and furious, the black Knight taking him for some such an one, as the other kind-hearted Princes were, which made him [...]it the more carelesly, and so gaue the Prince the aduantage to shake him shrewdly; which he meaning to mend the next time, with great rage met him, who neuer yet was ouer­throwne, or neere the hazard of it: but so terrible was the meeting, as both their horses were strooke vpon their buttocks, yet againe recouerd; three courses they ran thus without aduantage, wherefore by the lawes of those Iusts, they were to end it with the sword, which they did, fighting without mercy or feare, the white armour of Amphilanthus looking pale with rage to see his bloud, while the other mourned for his masters hurts, which were many. Long they fought on horseback, thē both agreeing (their horses being faint) they lighted, and so continued the fight, till the King sent downe Vrania to intreate them, that they would giue ouer, since they hoped the quarrell was not deadly, besides the greatest pitie such Knights should bee lost at the time, when pleasure, not warre, should be exercised. They at her desire yeel­ded, while all iudgements gaue them the honour, of the most worthy to be admired Combatants, Italy had euer knowne. Faint they were, and so sat downe, taking one another by the hand, as witnesse their malice was ended, and so might euery one truly belieue, when they beheld their faces, for the black Knight was Parselius, who faigned himselfe not well, of purpose to bee the abler to combat all commers. The two friends did then condemne each one himselfe for hurting the other (but these chances often happen among Knights): so they went to the King, whose grief was great to see their hurts; but knowing by his Chirurgions none of them were dangerous, though pain­full, his content was infinite to see their valors. Vrania was sorry for Parselius, but tended Amphilanthus wholly, till he came abroad, which was some two daies after; strange happines wrought by diuine power to work such change, who once would haue left all friends for Parselius. During which time, the sport ceased, and began again with his presence: the other Princes euery one [Page 196] had their trials in full manner, and Steriamus for his honour had this aduen­ture befall him. The fame of this meeting, and the Iusts being noised ouer all those parts, there came most Knights and Princes, to whose eares the tidings came, among which was the Prince of Piemont, as proud and insolent, as those vices could corrupt man withall: this man pufft vp with ambition in the worst kind, aspired to loue Vrania, and therefore put himselfe to the bold discouering of it, and not content with that, demanded a fauour of her to weare, which she refusd, hating vice so much, as for that, shee abhorred him. He scorning to be denied, when hee should haue hated himselfe for such an attempt, gaue some speeches not befitting her to take, and withall snatched a gloue from her, which hee sware to weare; yet mildly she tooke small no­tice of either of them, but her spirit made her colour shew, she was offended; this was in the chamber of Amphilanthus in the window. Steriamus stan­ding by, and seeing it grew offended, and so much, as it making his [...]i [...]s giue testimony of the furie he had boyling within him, he spake these words; Pre­sumption hath causd in you this vnmannerlinesse, but truth in mee prouokes these words; lay downe the gloue againe, and your selfe at her feete, humbly submit and yeeld your life to her disposing, for hauing done so vnpardonable an act, and leaue your hopes to her mercy, or here receiue this from me, that you shall haue my heart, or I yours to satisfie her right. He laughed, and said, the gloue did well become his hatt (hauing put it into it in that time), and that there he would weare it in despite of him, or the best Knight. Steriamus strake his hat off, with all giuing him such a blow in the face, as he made him stagger; then took out the gloue, and kissing it, told Vrania, that thereby hee had the happines to begin his seruice to her, being long before ingaged vnto it: if she would take it from him, she had the power to doe that, and what else she pleasd, since he desired to be but accounted her humblest seruant; yet his desire was so much to be honourd, as to bee permitted to weare it as her fa­uour, till he brought him humbly to submit for so great a presumption. She who had euer loued Steriamus from his youth, and by this was ingaged, be­sides his aduenturing to saue her in the sea, to gratifie him, yet tender of be­ing cause of harme to him, she only spake thus: My Lord (said she) your me­rits so farre beyond my deserts, make me amazed, in what manner to carry my selfe, I am doubtfull; yet I will rather offend in the good, then ill; weare not this I beseech you, too meane for you, since taken from so ill a place, but let me haue it, and accept from me a more worthy, and a fitter fauour, and one vntoucht by any hands, but those that present it with all true respect vnto you, He gaue her the gloue, and tooke from her a scarfe, which with in­finite content, he tyed (assisted by her also) about his arme; then went she to the fire, into which she threw the gloue, wishing that there the danger of Steriamus might end, with the consumption of that leather. Then did the disgraced Prince goe out, and instantly send to Steriamus t, o giue him satis­faction, which he presently did yeeld vnto, and kissing Vrania's hand, went downe to arme himselfe in a priuate place, and in an armour not known, be­ing ru [...]set, and as plaine an one as could be, his riches consisting in his worth, and his Mistrisses fauour. Straight was the Court fild with the newes, that two braue combatants were entring the Lists; the King, Amphilanth [...]s, (though weake) and all the Court came, except Parselius, who could not so [Page 197] well stirre abroad as Amphilanthus, by reason he had lost much more bloud; his staying within, made Steriamus not missed; so all assembled, the proud Prince comes in, suted to his humour, his attendants many, and shewed they had receiued their education from him; the other had none with him, but carried his speare himselfe; the Iudges were made, the Prince of Sauoy his Cosin-german, chosen by him; and Amphilanthus, desired by the other; the Trumpets sounded, and they encountred; Steriamus was struck backe on his horse, and the other his horse fell with him, so they fought on foote; fierce and cruel was the fight, lamentable was the sight of it, for except those choice Princes, none could equall this Piemountois, and that he knew, which did incourage, or made him more prize his power then his worth, as one might say, a Horse were a brauer Creature then a man, because he draweth, or beareth more. Steriamus fought for honor, and that to be receiued from Vrania, the other, to repaire his honour, touch'd for Vrania: thus they past no fury, no strength, no harme shun'd, or spar'd which was not calld to the highest accompt, nor any skill wanting, which was not, (if a little stirr'd) re­newed, and payed with iudgement, and discretion.

Most sayd, no combate, (except the last) could compare with this, yet in some sort did this exceed, as being one more bloudy, ground hate, and all curst additions being ioynd together in them, to be at heigth and gouerne, nay, spend themselues in the furious, and deadly conclusion. At last, much care was had to saue them, when euen their eyes dasled, and their legges grew false to their bodies, no longer willing to support them. Then fell the Piemount Prince, and Steriamus vpon him, not of purpose, but by weakenesse; his helme he puld off, and would haue killed him, but his spirit ended (in shew) with his fury, for then he fell off from him in a swound, appearing as dead as he. The Iudges came in, and finding it was the braue Prince, Am­philanthus fell downe by him, the King came from the window, Vrania ran to him, and wiping his face, rubbed his temples with her hand, when life againe possest him, and how could it be otherwise, being in her armes, where life of loue did dwell? When he beheld where he was, and remembring what hee had began for her, fearing he had lost his honour by the others victory, he of­ferd to get vp, and being on his knees, scarce able to rise higher, crying out, Miserable Steriamus to liue to see thy shame, and before her, where honour striues to be, and from whom all my honor must proceed; he cast his eies, and saw where the other lay dead, then was he satisfied, and well might he bee so, since this was none of his smallest, but one of his chiefest victories, the strength, valour and skill of the other being so well knowne, as none could yeeld him conquered, but by an vnconquerable spirit.

Steriamus gaind the victory, and so, as great honor as could be giuen to a­ny in a single fight; he was not the strong [...]st, but as valiant as any, and (except the cosin and brothers) equall with any. This past, they were taken vp, in the raising them, the Prince breathed, and looked vp, wherupon Steriamus would stay, and heare him speake; he vnwilling, yet by him before he would be drest, was forst to confesse his folly, and in as humble maner as he demanded, asked pardon for presumption to Vrania; then he for gaue him, and kindly recon­ciled themselues, so embracing the proud Prince, departed, proud now that he had liued to goodnesse, shaking off the other pride with his life. Steriamus [Page 198] was conducted to his lodging, where Vrania visited him often: the body of the other to a place appointed, till his buriall; the Prince of Sauoy taking order for him, not with excessiue sorrow for his death, who in his life time neuer cared for him, nor any that had so much vertue; for this was a fine young Gentleman, vertuous, and valiant, and now by his cousins death, Prince likewise of Piemount. Euery day were new showes, and tri­umphes, and by reason these braue Princes could not be any of the number, martiall exercises were for a while layd aside, and Court sports gain'd the place; Amphilanthus, Parselius, and (within few dayes) Steriamus beeing spectators: but one afternoone, with sound of Trumpets, there entered in­to the hall a braue Knight, and with brauery vnusuall, hee was attended with many seruants, all in one colour liuery, which was Sea greene and crimson, as coats of seagreene veluet, embroderd with crimson silke, in the fashion of hearts, stroke through with darts; twenty of these he had, euery one of them carrying a picture, then came two richer then the former, holding one fay­rer then the rest (or he was deceiu'd) for this was the picture of his mistris, the Knight then commanded them to set them downe, which they did on both sides of the chamber, the faces to the States, he standing in the middle with his mistrisses thus speaking. Famous King of Naples, and no more fa­mous, then truely meriting that fame; I am hither come vpon command, sent by a power that onely hath soueraignty ouer me, else free, my name is Polarchos, sonne to the King of Ciprus, but subiect by loue to the Lady of Rhodes; I went to the Court of her Father, desirous to see all places, there did loue surprize mee, and I sacrifice my liberty on the altar of her com­mands; Oft times I went afterwards to see her, and was (like the fulfilling of wishes) welcome to her, though not to her father, after hee discouerd our loues, which though his dislike could not alter our affections, being strong, and young, yet it opposed our oft delightfull meetings, subtilty was then to come into freedom's place, and danger, where safety was wont to dwell, we only secure in our loues tryals, I had many put vpon me, but I passd them all, the more to increase her liking, and her fathers hate to mee. Then was there an inchantment, wherein faith in loue, and valour was to be shewed, and approued; but since the rarest liuing Prince, your most excellent son, had the power, as iustly deseruing it, to conclude those charms; I will let the des­cription of that passe, since how impossible is it, but that you haue heard the whole relation of it by him.

Then to proceed, I was so much honord, as to be carryed to Rhodes, and peace made with her father, and his consent gaind for our marriage: then departed he with his royall company, leauing me assured, and so certaine of all content, as then I imagined; but after there departure, some two dayes before the solēnizing of the marriage, we were discoursing of many things, among the rest, of the aduentures at Ciprus, which brought on the pleasant Iust we had there: begun by matchlesse Amphilanthus, and his worthy companion Ollorandus, with whom I did well enough, but was by your Son layd on the ground; this I tooke for no disgrace, but as a due, when I pre­sumed to meete him, who was to be yeelded to by all: but though I thought this no dishonor, the hearing it bred disdaine in my mistris, wherefore she told me, that vnles I would wipe away this staine, she would neuer look vp­on [Page 199] me, and though she could marry no other, yet she would not performe it with me, this greeued me, and so much was I vexed with the teller of this to her, as to begin, I could haue found in my heart to kill him; but what would that auaile? She was angry, and wilfull in her resolution, and being Princesse of that Iland, I had but a small party there, to force her to per­forme her word, and faith ingaged; yet thus farre I brought it, I vnder­tooke to carry her picture through all Greece, and Italy, and Iust with all, that would venture their Mistresses Pictures against mine, if I ouercame, I was to haue her instantly vpon my returne, and all their Pictures, as my gaine to present her withall, only I excepted, Amphilanthus and Ollorandus whom I had before beene so much ingaged to. Shee was contented with this, and so I tooke my way; Most of Greece I haue passed, and all good fortune hath yet attended me, neuer receiuing the worst of any, but I must confesse, my Destiny hath yet held mee, from meeting the renowne of Knighthood, the three Brothers, and their Companions; the last I mett withall, was a Romanian Knight, and he brought, as assured gaine, this La­dies, the Princesse Antissia, but hath courteously left her to grace the other Ladies; Now Sir, my humble request to your Maiestie is, that I may haue permission to try my fortune here.

The King rose vp, and embraced him, giuing him welcome, and liberty; so did Amphilanthus, Parselius, Steriamus, Ollorandus, and lastly, Dolorindus came vnto him, but not with so louing a countenance, for he was resolued to encouter him, so much had the resemblance of Antissia wrought on his minde; then the King desired to haue the orders of the Iusts proclaimed, which were, That no man must come into the Field to Iust, without his La­dies Portraiture. That if he were ouercome, hee must leaue it behinde him, as his signe of losse. That he must not offer to defend that with the Sword, which he lost with the Launce. That they were to runne six cour­ses, if done equally, to continue till the Iudges decided it. And lastly, if the Challenger were ouercome, the Defendant had free liberty to dispose of all the Pictures before conquerd; this being don [...], for that night they par­ted, Polarchos to his Tents, which were set vp at the end of the Lists, being in­finit rich, and beautifull. The princes brought him thither, though faine they would haue had his company in the Court, but that was contrary to her command, who he must wholly obey.

The morning come, there assembled all the Court, the Iudges were the foure first named Princes, then came in the Prince of Milan, atten­ded on, like himselfe, two Knights of Milan carrying his Ladies Picture, which was, indeede, as louely as any could be, but browne of complexi­on, Daughter shee was to the Duke of Florence, and who at that time he was extreamely passionate, of being to be his wife, within fewe weekes after; this Prince ranne finely with an excellent grace, and delicate Horse­manship; but Polarchos had runne with Amphilanthus, with equall strength, for some courses, wherefore this young Prince must be contented to leaue his picture behinde him, which he did at the fourth course, and thus did his misfortune bring in many, for that day he gain'd seuen to the number of his Victories, & the second day, almost as many. Now was he to stay but sixe daies in euery Kings Court, not as long as he found Knights to Iust with, but [Page 200] those that would, must within that time doe it, or not else. The third day he had but few, by reason the Knights were vnprouided, but the fourth and fift, he had enough to doe, to conquer so many as came. The sixt day, there en­tred a Knight in gold armour, his plumes, furniture to his horse, liueries all yellow and gold, so as he was called the iealous Knight; before him was carryed the picture of Antissia, so he came to the Iudges as the custome was, but they refus'd him liberty, saying, that since that Princesse had beene once before brought in, it was not lawfull to bring her againe, since so it runne to infinitnesse; yet he much vrging, and the challenger beeing as curteous, as valerous, consented on this condition, that this should be the last example, so they parted, and encountred with great force, and finenesse, the yellow Knight had a while the worse, but hee recouerd himselfe prettily wel again, and brought it to that passe, that in fiue courses, there was little aduantage; but then Polarchos knowing his conclusion was neere an end, like a man that in earnest, desird to win his Ladyes loue, encounterd him, and stroke him flat on his backe, passing only with the losse of his stirrops, so the honour was giuen him, and the other vnknowne, got away as hee came, but with somewhat lesse reputation, yet no shame; since hee did best of forty that Iusted of that Court.

Thus the Iusts had end, and Polarchos with much honor, was brought into the Court, wher he continued some daies, & hauing now finished his charge departed for Rhodes, with all louely triumphant trophies. At Rhodes he was receiued kindly of all, except his mistris, who examining al that he had done, and finding none of the famous women among them, told him that those were nothing to her, vnlesse he had brought Pamphilias, Vranias, Selarinas, and Limenas pictures, or that he had ouerthrowne, Parselius, Rosindy, Steri­amus, Selarinus, Perissus, Leandrus, or such Knights, looking with so despight­full a contempt on him, as it a new moued his passions, into a still continu­ing hate, for he seeing this, and all his labour no more esteemd, grew to ab­horring that, which before he sought, and scorne, what he ador'd. Is all my labour (said he) requited thus? the trauells, the hazards I haue runne into, rewarded with this slightnesse? Farewell, fond vnworthy woman, and when Polarchos next seekes thee, vse him thus; now I hate thee, and will no more euer see thee, or thinke of thee, if not with scorne. With that hee flung out of her presence, and straight went to his lodging, where he meant to stay that night onely, and the next day take his iourney homeward, but he was thus preuented; for she seeing his minde alter'd, and how like she was to fall into this losse, she call'd her trustiest seruants to her, and gaue them charge how to fulfill her commands, which they accomplish'd; for in the dead time of the night, when hee slept secure from Loue passions, which were wont to hold his eyes open, and busie his soule, hee now freed from them, enioyed quiet rest, till he was disturb'd by the rude rushing in of cer­taine men into his Chamber, who taking him vnprouided, layd hold of him, and binding him with cords, and yron chaines, carried him into a strong towre, which was on the topp of the Castle, the windowes bard thicke with yron, nothing else to keepe Sunne or cold from him, no bed but the hard floore, nor meate, but bread and water.

Thus he liu'd a while, true spectacle of misfortune, in vnfortunate loue, [Page 201] those hands that lately defended her beauty, now bound for maintaining so false a shadow, and all the honour he gaind for her, turnd to disdained hate, surely a iust punishment, when worth carries a sword against worth to de­fend the opposite, Poore Polarchos, into what affliction art thou brought [...] how will thy friends lament thy misfortune, and redresse thy wrongs, if they may attaine but the knowledge of it? but thus thou must yet continue tor­tured for thy too great goodnesse.

Amphilanthus hauing now recouerd his strength pretily well, came vnto his father one day, telling him what promise he had made vnto his cosin, the Queene of Pamphilia, to conduct her home, and therfore besought his leaue to depart, and also permission for Vrania's going; besides, Steriamus was now to proceed in his businesse concerning the recouery of his kingdome; these he said, and no other should haue carried him from his presence. This indeed was true, and so gaind he the libertie he demanded, though with hearty grief to part with them: the Queene was also sorry, for he was their dearest child; yet his honour was more deare to them. Then tooke he leaue of all the court, and, and with his braue companions, and sweet Vrania, tooke shipping for Morea. Perissus hauing all this while continued in Arcadia with the King, faine would take leaue of them, but the happy newes of their arriuall did stay him. If the Morean King were vpon this, euen rauished with ioy, none can blame him, since he [...]ad at that time the whole worth of the world in his presence. Pamphilia neuer more contented, hauing her two dearest brothers with her, whither also soone came Philarchos to fill vp their ioyes, bringing with him his beautifull, and chastly louing Orilena; all were full of comfort, all com­forted with this happinesse: brauery of Knighthood shin'd there, the onely beauty of vertue, and vertuous beautie was there assembled. As thus the Court was florishing in glory, despising any sorrow, a sad spectacle cald them one morning a little to compassion, a Lady in mourning attire, attended on with numbers of Knights and Ladies likewise in that habit, came into the Hall, the Ladies face couered with a blacke Vaile; next to her followed an other Lady, carrying a most sweete and dainty child in her armes, shee com­ming to the State, did not kneele downe, but threw her selfe at the Kings [...]eete, crying out with such pitifull moane, as all hearts did ioyne as in loue to condole with her.

Long it was before shee could bring forth any thing; at last, O my Lord (said she), as euer you had compassion of an afflicted creature, verifie it in fauour shewed to mee. I am a Lady, and a miserable soule, forlorne by for­tune, and my loue: I was resolute, but alas, what woman can see my yeeres, and still continue so? I was deceiued, and am, and this now grieueth me. As­sist me gratious Prince, it is alone in you to redresse my harme: then doe it, and doe it to her, who suffers by your bloud.

The King was amazed, not beeing able to guesse at the businesse; yet taking her vp, desired to know more of it, promising his best power and aide in it. The businesse then my Lord (said shee) is this: I am dishonoured if you helpe not; one of your Knights trauelling in search of a friend of his, vnfortunately (for mee) lighted on my house, where I with ciuility, and courteous manner intertaind him: so well hee liked the place (and then my selfe) as hee neuer ceased continuall importunity, [Page 202] woing, and sparing no meanes to win his end, till hee procured this end for me: yet being chastly bred, and honouring vertue aboue all respects, or pas­sions, I would not consent till he married me: then wee kept together some times, he leauing all other courses, contented to obscure himselfe, his name and estate, to be in my armes; happinesse to me like assurance of heauen, for as heauen I lou'd him, and would not refuse any danger, his loue might ex­pose me vnto. But he hauing enioyd his desires, and seeing I had no hidden beautie more for varietie to delight him with all, hee left mee with a faigned excuse, neuer since hauing so much as looked after me, or let me know hee liu'd. What torment this was to me (Great King) confider? but most, fin­ding my selfe with child; then came the hazard of my honour in mind, the danger of my disgrace, the staine I might bring to my house: for few will be­lieue vs, poore women, in such extremity, but rather will increase our infamy. What paine euer was sufferd by woman, I indur'd in soule and body, till the time of my deliuery came, when God sent me this babe: hauing gaind some little strength, I left my Country, and hither am I come vnknowne to any, humbly to craue your fauour; one of your Knights hath done me this abuse, and therefore from your hands I implore right.

Sweete Lady (said the King), I pitie much your fortune: but tell mee who this Knight is, and I vow he shall not stay in my Court, or fauour, if hee doe not before me satisfie you, so as this can be verified against him.

Sir (said she) if one of these words I haue spoken bee false, let shame, and perpetuall losse requite me: no Sir, I haue spoken onely truth, and desire but to be iustified; yet wi [...]h I not so great an ill to befall him, for God knowes my soule is purely his, louing him as it selfe, and but for him, would haue so much tried the sincerenesse of it. Then call (I beseech you) your Knights together, and of them demaund, what they will alot me; I will be disposd of by your selfe and them, for iustly may I put my selfe to you, since he is no o­ther that hath abused me, but your owne sonne, the winning and forsaking Parselius.

The King at this grew infinitely troubled, not knowing what to say, or doe in it; at last he cald his sonne, who all this while was talking with Leandrus a­bout Pamphilia: he comming to him, the king demanded of him, if he would vpon his Honour, resolue him directly of one thing he would demand; nay more, he charged him on his blessing, not to conceale that from him which he was to aske. He vow'd, nothing should make him answere false. Then tell me (said hee), haue you a child, or are you married to any without my knowledge? He fell straight on his knees; If euer (cry'd he) I gaue my word to marry any, or had a child by any, let Heauen (blesse you, said the Lady, stay­ing him from further proceeding). Vow not (said she); for neuer knew I man b [...]t you, and you are husband to me, and father to this babe. Her voyce he th [...]n began to know, yet being impossible (as hee thought) for Dalinea to [...] her, he desired to see her face. Nay (said she), first promise to bee iust before your father, and this royall presence, confirme what priuately be­fore on [...] [...]ee you vow'd in sacred marriage. What I did vow (said he) I ne­uer will deny [...] then royall Father (said hee) heare mee with patience and fauour; and yet before I speake, call Leandrus hither: so he was cald, when Parselius with eyes fild with teares thus began. Wretch that I was, [Page 203] wandring in search of my friend Amphilanthus (as I pretended, but indeede that onely was not my voyage), I fell into the confines of Achaya, where I met Berlandis, who came to seeke me from his Lord, and to intreat my com­pany in finishing the warre for Antissius; I consented: but passing through that Country, I chanced to come to the Castle of Dalinea, your faire and ver­tuous Sister; her I fell in loue withall, forgot all former vowes, and truths in loue; her I sought, flatter'd, wept to, protested what loues art could instruct me in: but all in vaine, vertue in her was a strong rocke against my vehement suite, till at the last pitie procured reward; to me shee granted, on the making her my wife: I did that willingly, and as my only happinesse. But long I had not thus enioyed her, but one sad night I dream'd of my first Loue, who furi­ously reuild me for my change, then sent reuenge in scorne, and worst con­tempt. I waked distracted; shee, deare shee, my wife was grieued with my paine, asked the true cause, complaind with me, grieu'd with mee, wept with me, who wept to cousen her; yet I was forc'd to it. At last I made a faignd ex­cuse, and by that meanes liberty to goe. From thence I parted, after lost my Page, flying from all but sadnesse, which did liue, fed by my sorrow, pressed with the heauiest weight of soule-felt-mourning, I got vnto the sea, and so shipt and saild to St. Maura, where with an Hermit graue, and poore, I wasted out some time, till sweet diuine Vrania was by her deare brother throwne into the sea. I saw her fall, and heard her cry, farewell; I leapt vnto her, and so came a shore by helpe of Steriamus, and his friend, good Dolorindus. Straight I found the good, for then all fortunes pass'd in my cross'd loue; I quite forgot, nay, that I had e're lou'd, so farre was passion from me; yet the loue, chaste loue of Dalinea as my wife, I yet retaine, and onely she doe I af­fect and loue. This Sir is true, and humbly I aske pardon for my fault, which I had meant more priuately to haue confess'd; and you Leandrus pray now pardon me, your Sister hath lost nothing by this match, nor shall haue reason to complaine of me, if true affection, and a loyall loue, can merit loues requi­tall from her breast. I know she lou'd me, and I loue but her. For you sad Lady, if you be not she, you wrong your selfe extreamely; and I vow, that (but her selfe) I neuer yet did touch, nor euer will; then seeke another hus­band, and a father for your child.

I'le seeke no other (answered shee), then take your loyall Dalinea to your selfe: and this was Dalinea, whose firme loue, but violent, had brought her to that place, despairing of Parselius and his loue. Parselius tooke her in his armes, and scarce could satisfie himselfe with ioy, to see his dearest Dalinea. The King forgaue them, and with fatherly affection wept, and kiss'd her, and the babe: then did Leandrus embrace them both, shee asking pardon, and Parselius too he did forgiue, and so all were content. Vrania as vntouch'd with loue or anger likewise welcomd her, so did all else; the mourning was cast off, and all the ioy express'd, that clothes or Triumphs could produce: but Pamphilia admiringly beheld Vrania and her Brother, at last, O loue (said [...]h [...]e), what strange varieties are here? assuredly none but thy seruants can let such wauerings possesse them; protect mee yet from such distresse, and let me be ordaind, or licensed to be the true patterne of true constancy, and let my loue be loyall to me.

These passions oft did vexe her, and perplexe her soule, one day especially [Page 204] when all alone in the Woods [...]hee thus did complaine. Neuer at quiet tor­menting passion, what more canst thou desire? What, couet that thou hast not gaind? in absence thou dost molest me with those cruell paines, in pre­sence thou torturest me with feare and despaire, then dost burne with desire to obtaine, yet sealest vp my lipps from discouering it; leaue these contrarie­ties, and make me liue peaceably, and so happily: scorch'd I am with heate of doubt, my hopes are burnd to ashes, and onely the smoake of suspition fu­ming of my whole selfe, now consumed by this fire. Could I belieue those sighes were for me? Could I hope his sadnesse proceeded from this ground? Could I thinke his lookes on me were loue? Could I imagine, when hee prouokes me to discourse of such like passions, it were to find my affections seate? I might then be so fortunate as to discouer that, which hidden, ruines me: but passion, thy ends are onely to afflict, neuer to helpe; thou do'st still worke against thy selfe, as if thine owne mortall enemy. What ill spirit but thy selfe, would find causes to hurt? what nurse would no [...] feede her babe rather with milke, then weane it, to starue it, if not able else to sustaine it? but you a cruell nurse denie me foode, and famish mee with despaire, a leane li­uing, and a miserable fate; vnnaturall this is to murder, what your selfe did breed; you bred me to this woe, will you forsake me now in necessitie? you haue giuen me education, brought vp in the learning of loue; was it to be af­ter condemned, for being so ill a scholler? or haue I learnd now enough, and so must make vse of it? Teach me a little more, and onely to know this, the Pelican lets out her bloud to saue her young ones: but passion, you let mee with all your childrens affections pine and starue; one drop of life-bloud, hope would cherish me, but hope abandons mee, and I remaine an vnfortu­nate witnesse of your tyrannies. Welcome my teares (cry'd shee) you are more tender and more kind, striuing to ease mee by your carefull meanes; then wept she, sigh'd, sobd, and groand in her anguish; but when the spring had run it selfe euen dry, she rose from off the grasse, which a while had been her bed, when these extreamest weights of heauinesse oppressed her: and to make her the trulier deliuerd of her sorrow, Amphilanthus came vnto her, and straight followed Vrania and Limena. This braue Prince discernd her eyes some-what sweld, whereat his heart did melt with pitie, and kindly askt the cause: she that now might haue had her wish, yet refusd that happy proffer for her deliuery; modesty and greatnesse of spirit ouer-ruling her, so as shee made a slight excuse; and yet that enough to make him know, she desired not to reueale her secret thoughts. This taught him ciuilitie not to vrge, that gaue her time to know she did amisse in being so secret, as lockt vp her losse, in stead of opening her blessing. Then sat they all downe together, Am­philanthus laying his head on Pamphilias Gowne, which she permitted him to do, being more then euer before she would grant to any: then fel they in­to discourse of many things, and as all must come to conclusion, so they con­cluded with loue, as the end of al sweet pleasure. Then variety of loue came a­mong thē, I meane the discourses in that kind, euery one relating a story, Vra­nia was the last, and hers was this. In Italy as once I went abroad into some Woods, where a dainty riuer want only passed, it was my chance, walking vp and downe, to call to mind the sweete Iland wherein I was bred, and all those pleasant passages therein, so farre those thoughts possest me, as they mooued [Page 205] sadnesse in me, and that, passion, and passion, attendance on that power; so as I threw my self vpon the ground, there a while remaining as in a trance, lull [...] into it by those charmes. Awak'd I was out of this sweete sleepe by a voyce, which I heard most lamentably to complaine, sadnesse neuer being sadder then in her; this brought mee to other of passions companions, desire, and longing to assist that afflicted creature, who by the words was spoke, appeard a woman and a louer. I drew neerer to gaine a sight if I could of her, when I perceiu'd her lie vpon the earth, her head on the roote of a weeping willow, which dropped downe her teares into the Christalline streames, hanging part of her faire armes ouer it, to embrace it selfe in that cleare glasse. Shee lay betweene the body of that sad tree, and the riuer which passed close by it, running as if in haste to carry their sorrowes from them, but sorrow in them had too sure abiding: shee was in the habit of a Shepherdesse, which pleased me to see, bringing my estate againe in my mind, wherein I liued first, that had bin enough to call reliefe from me; wherefore I was going to her, when she brake forth into these speeches, being mixt with many sighes, and fearefull stopps: Poore Liana (said shee) is this thy feruent loues reward? haue I got the hate of my friends, the curse of my parents, and the vtter vndo­ing of my selfe, and hopes, to bee requited with falshood? Alas vnkind shep­heard, what haue I deserud at thy hands, to be thus cruelly tormented, and vndeseruedly forsaken? neuer can, or may any loue thee better then I did, and doe, and must, though thou proue thus vnkind. That word (vnkind) brought a kind company of teares to second it; which I seeing, stept vnto her, who sorrowfully, and amazedly beheld me, feare and griefe ioyning together in her face, offering at first to haue gone from me; but I would not permit her to haue her mind in that, no more then fortune would suffer her to enioy; she staid, when I vs'd these words: Seeke not to leaue me, who haue been pincht with these torments, hauing loud, and somtimes wanted pity as much as you; shun not me experienced, since you cannot be better accompanied, then by me, who am not ignorant of such paines, and haue as much lamented ab­sence, as you can dislike falshood, but now I haue gained freedome. Would all could find that cure (said she): but since you command, who seeme most fit to be obayd, I will not flee from you, nor had I at first offerd it, if not out of shame, to haue my follies discouerd by any except wild places, and sauage mountaines, as gentle and tender-hearted as my loue. It is no blame (said I) to loue, but a shame to him, who requires such a constant and worthy loue with no more respect; nor think you do amisse, or shal do, if you relate to me the whole story of your (as you call it) ill fortune, since meanes are allow'd in al businesses for redresse, and that you may chance to find here, at least some ease, the very complaining giuing respit from a greater sorrow, which continual thinking, & plodding on, wil bring you. You shal haue your wil (said she) and be by me denied nothing, since I see you gouerne or master Fate; and most I am ingaged to refuse none of your commands, since I haue once seene a face like yours, and no way inferior to your beauty, as much tor­mented, as I am now afflicted; her name was Vrania, her dwelling in an Iland where I was borne, & my misery for me, though the place is cald, the pleasāt Pantaleria. I more curiously beholding her, called her to mind, hauing bin one of my best cōpanions; wherfore embracing her, I told her she said right, [Page 206] and that I was the same Vrania, afflicted then for ignorance of mine estate, now known to be daughter to the King of Naples, but hers proceeding from loue, I againe intreated the vnderstanding of it: she then rose vp, and with sober, and low reuerence she began her discourse thus.

Most excellent Princess, poore Liana your seruant, being (as you know) Daughter to the chiefe Shepheard of that Iland, who had the title of Lord ouer the rest, being indeed a Noble man, and a great Lord by birth, in his owne Countrey, which was Prouence; but misery glorying to shew in great­nesse, more then in meaner sorts of people. It happ'ned so, as the Earle of Prouence tooke dislike with him, and that growing to hate, he so farre prose­cuted his spight, as he ceased not till he had vndone him, (an [...]asie thing for a Prince to compasse ouer a Subiect.) Then hauing nothing left him but life, and misfortune, hee left his Countrey, seeking to gaine some solitary place to ende his daies in, he happened into that sweet Iland, and (as you haue heard I am sure very often) with his few friends, that would not for­sake him, else left by fortune, inhabited in it, and call'd it by his name; nor did I till after your departure, know my Father to be other then the chiefe Shep­heard. But my misfortune brought that knowledge, and makes me desire a speedy end; for thus it was.

I being his onely child, and so heire to all his estate, (which was great for a Shepherd) was by many sought, i [...]deed most, if not all the young, and best Shepherds of the Countrey; those youthes all striuing for me, made me striue how to vse them all alike, and so I did, likeing none, but courte­ously refusing all, till (as euery one must haue a beginning to their misery) there came a Shepherd, and a stranger he was in birth to that place, yet gai­ned he a neerer, and choycer acquaintance with my heart, and affection, then any of our home-bred [...] neighbours. He call'd himselfe Alanius, and so if you haue heard part of my discourse, I am sure you haue already with that vn­derstood his name, being the head-spring to my calamitie; for, Alanius I af­fected, and onely lou'd; and to say truth, most desperatly did loue him, (O Loue, that so sweet a name, and so honour'd a power, should bring such dis­asters;) secretly I lou'd somewhile vnknowne vnto himselfe, but not before his heart had made it selfe my prisoner, little imagining, mine had beene so much his subiect.

But so it continued, till his paine made him discouer his loue, and that pit­tie I held ouer his paine, mixed with mine owne affection, compelld me to yeeld to my misfortune; yet, was Alanius then worthy of my loue, for hee loued me, and I must euer loue him still, though he be false. False, murde­ring word, which with it selfe carries death, and millions of tortures ioynd with it; yet thou art so, and I vnfortunate to call thee so, else no worth wanted in thee. But this is too sadd a relation, I will proceed with the con­tinuance of our Loues; which was for a pretty space, when another, who had before Alanius his comming thither, sought me for his wife, being of good estate, and of equall hope, to rise in his fortunes, giuen to husbandry, and such commendable qualities as Countrymen affect, and so it was my fa­thers minde to breed me too, and therefore had giuen his consent, looking to the towardlinesse of the man, and the great blessing hee had receiued, in more then vsuall increase of his stocke. These were allurements to him, [Page 207] while they were scarce heeded by me, the riches I looked vnto being fortune in our Loues, till one day, my Father call'd me to him, telling mee, what a match he had made for me, and not doubting of my liking, shewed much comfort which he had conceiud of it, and so went on with ioy, as if the ma­riage had beene straight to bee consummated. I was, truely, a little amazed withall, till he finding I made no answere, pulling me to him, told mee, [...]hee hop'd my silence proceeded from no other ground, then bashfulnesse, since he assur'd himselfe, I would not gainesay what he commanded, or so much as dislike what he intended to doe with me, wherefore hee would haue mee ioyne my dutifull agreement to his choice, and order my loue to goe along with his pleasure, for young maides eyes should like onely where their Fa­ther liked, and loue where he did appoint. This gaue me sight to my grea­ter mischiefe, wherefore I kneeld downe, words I had few to speake, one­ly with teares I besought him to remember his promise, which was, neuer to force me against my will, to marry any. Will (said he) why your Will ought to be no other then obedience, and in that, you should be rather wil­full in obeying, then question what I appoint; if not, take this and bee as­sured of it, that if you like not as I like, and wed where I will you, you shall neuer from me receiue least fauour, but be accompted a stranger and a lost childe.

These words ran into my soule, like poyson through my veines, chilling it, as the cold fit of an Ague disperseth the coldnesse ouer all ones body; for not being Alanius whom he meant, it was death to me to heare of marri­age, yet desirous to seeme ignorant, and to be resolud, who it was, I desired to know, who it was it pleased him to bestow vpon me. Hee reply'd, one more worthy then thou canst imagine thy selfe deseruing, then naming him; that name was like a Thunder-bolt to strike my life to death, yet had I strength, though contrary to iudgement, to doe this. I kneeld againe, and told him, that if he please to kill me, I should better, and more willing­ly embrace it, else, vnlesse he did desire to see me wretched, and so to con [...]clude my daies in misery, I besought him to alter his purpose, for of any man breathing I could not loue him, nor any, but. That But I staid withall, yet he in rage proceeded: But, cryd he, what, haue you setled you affecti­ons else where? Who is this fine man hath wonne your idle fancie? Who hath made your duty voide? Whose faire tongue hath brought you to the foulenesse of disobedience? Speake, and speake truely, that I may dis­cerne what choice you can make, to refuse my fatherly authoritie ouer you? I truely trembled, yet meaning to obey him, as much as it was possible for me to doe, in my heart, louing the expression of dutie, I told him it was Alanius. Alanius, a trimme choice truely (said he) and like your owne wit, and discretion; see what you haue done, choose a man, onely for ou [...]side; a stranger, and for any thing we know, a run-away from his countrey, none knowing him, nor himselfe being able to say, what he is? I weeping im­plor'd a better opinion of him, since I assured my selfe, that if I could come to the blessing of enioying him, all happinesse in this world would come with it, else desird he would wedd me to my graue, rather then to a­ny, but Alanius, whom onely I did, or could loue, and one whom I had not placed my affections vpon alone, but life, and all hope of comfort. How he [Page 208] was moou'd with this (alas sigh'd shee) imagine you; truely so much, as (being by nature cholericke) I verily thought, he would haue kill'd me, his eyes sparkled with furie, his speech was stopp'd, so as not being able to bring foorth one word, he flung out of the roome, locking mee fast vp for that night, without hope, or comfortable company, but my owne sorrow, and teares, which neuer left me; and those were more pleasing to mee, when I said to my selfe, thus doe I suffer for Alanius. The next morning he sent one of his seruants to me, a young Ladd who loued me well, (but was faster tied in seruice to your command, said she to me, once ouerioy'd, when you sent him to attend a Knight, and after your going away, also left that Iland, whe­ther to seeke you, and so to serue you, or hating the poorenesse of that place when you were absent,) but this youth being sent by my Father, to know if I continued in the same disobedience, I was in the night before, I sent him word, that I should hate my selfe, if my conscience should euer be able to accuse me of such an offence; but true it was, my loue continued as firme, and vnremouable to Alanius, as it did: for alas, what can change a constant heart, which is fixed like Destiny? I could not let any thing come neere me, which might be mistrusted to lead one piece of change, or carry one ragg of it abroad, my heart like the Woole the briars catch, torne, and spoil'd, rather then pull'd from it. O intolerable seruitude, where fast holding is a losse, and loosing a gaine, yet rather had I lose, while I keepe vertuous con­stancie.

With the answer I gaue, return'd the youth, wherupon without seeing me, he sent me to a Sisters house of his to bee kept (and sorry I am, I must call her his Sister, or keepe this memory of her, for a more diuellish creature neuer liu'd) there I was halfe a yeare, without meanes to let Alanius know of my imprisonment; he sought (guided by loue) for mee, but hauing no truer a director found me not, till one day comming with his Flocks, as hee was accustomed to doe, into the faire Plaine, where we were wont to meet, he mett this Ladd, who seeing him sadd, asked what he ayl'd. Alanius re­plide, how can he choose but mourne, whose heart is kept from him? In­deed (said he) I cannot blame you hauing such a losse, and yet sure you haue a heart in place of it, else could you not liue to feele, and discouer the want of yours; but did you know what tormenting sorrow she feeles for you, you would yet be more perplexed. Wretch that I am (cryed he) can shee bee tormented, and for me? and liue I to heare of it, without redres­sing it? Yet what talke I (foole that I am?) Can my cries ayde her? Can the baying of my Lambes assist her? Can my poore Flocke buy her free­dome? Can I merit her release? Or can, indeed, my selfe thinke I am wor­thy, or borne to such a blessednesse, as to releeue her, vext, and harm'd for me? What power hast thou but ouer thy teares to flow for her? What assistance, but sheepe, innocent, as thy selfe, and loyall passion? What Armes but thy Sheepe-hooke, which can onely catch a beast, while thou (vnwor­thy cr [...]ature) art not able to helpe her? The poorest thing can assist a friend of the same kinde, but thou canst neither helpe her, nor thy selfe, worst of things created; end, and rid the World of such corruption, for why should I breath, if not to serue Liana? You may serue her, and relieue her, said the youth, if you will heare, and but take aduise: and more will I doe for you, [Page 209] then I would for any other, since I find you loue her (as indeed you ought to doe). Then be satisfied thus farre (if you will trust me, who will neuer be but true), I will tell you where she is, and giue you all assistance towards her de­liuery. She is in yonder house, vpon the top of that hill, which shewes it self as boldly boasting in the cruelty is committed there, by warrant of a cruell father: with her Aunt she is (yet still your Liana) so close kept, as none, saue my selfe, may see her, who from her father visits her once a day, though not for loue that he sends, but to trie, if by his vnfatherly tortures, shee may bee wrought to leaue louing you: but so much he failes in this, as it is impossible by famine to make one leaue to wish for food, but rather with the want, to increase the longing to it: which he seeing, threatneth the forsaking her. Oft haue I carried this message, and as oft returnd sorrowfull, receiuing his doome, but direct deniall to his demaunds; and truly it hath euen grieu'd my soule, to see how terribly she hath been perplext and handled, by those rude and merciles executors of his will, who can no way alter her, if not to blame them for their curstnes, who neuer was but mild to them, and this morning did I see her, when she vtterd these words. Alas (said she) vnhappy Liana; how art thou afflicted for thy constancy? yet this tell my father, his kind commands had more wrought in me, then his cruelty, yet neither against my loialty in loue; but now so hardned I am against paine, with vse of paine, as all torment, and millions of them added to the rest, shall haue no power to moue, the least in my affection to vnworthy change, for then should my soule smart, as onely now my body is subiect to these torments. This I told truly to my Master, who nothing was mou'd by it, but to more rage, sending ano­ther of my fellowes to his sister, coniuring her, that since neither perswasions, nor the begun tortures would preuaile, she should vse any other means, with what affliction she could to alter her, sparing none (so her limmes were not harmd by them) which no doubt shall bee executed. Wherefore you must thinke speedily to aide her, who indures for you, still resolud to beare misery for you; and assure your self she wil indure al can be laid vpon her, rather then faile in one title to you, or Loues fealty; and no way I know more sure and speedy, then to write her a letter, which I will deliuer, and therein let her know, the true and constant affection you beare her (which will bring sole comfort to her dolefull heart), and that (if she wil venture) to bring her selfe to happines in freedom, and to make you mutually contented, she must meet you in the little wood, next below the house, where you will not faile her, & carry her from these miseries into all delight and pleasure. Ah my deare friend (said he), how hast thou bound me by thy friendship, and louing care to vs both? but how canst thou performe this? If that be all (said he) let mee alone, nor take you care, for it shall be my charge, which I will honestly dis­charge, and deliuer it with mine owne hands, as if it came from her father, which shall be the meanes to haue the roome priuate for our discourse: what shal then hinder me, from discouering your desires, and her happines? This agreed vpon, they parted for that time, the youth to his flock, Alanius to his pen & paper, that euening meeting again, according to appointment; and then leauing Alanius to prepare al things ready against my cōming, to cōuey me to the next town, there to be maried, himself comming to me, leauing the fals shepherd, who fairly like the falsest betraier of blis, promised to be in rea­dines for vs: the honest lad did his part, telling my aunt that he was to speak [Page 210] with me presently, and in great priuate. She mistrusting little (and glad to let any of my fathers men see how circumspectly she kept his orders), brought him vp, instantly after, she had afflicted me with iron rods. When I saw the Youth, Alas (said I), are you come with more torments? for pities sake let me now haue an end, and take my life, the best and last prize of your tiran­nies. His answer was, he could not alter his Masters will, nor be a messenger of other, then he was intrusted with all, as hee was with a secret message vnto me; wherefore intreating mine Aunt, and the rest by, to leaue the roome, they left vs together; they gone, and wee free from danger, he began thus: Thinke not sweet Liana that I am now come with any matter of griefe, but with the welcome tidings of the long desir'd blisse of enioying, if you wil not your selfe marre your owne content. Is it possible (cry'd she) that I can liue to see happinesse? Reade this (said he), and then tell me, whether you may resolue to be happy or no, or so refuse it. I tooke the letter, and with exces­siue ioy (said shee) I opened it, finding in that his firmenesse: for what was there wanting, which might content me? loyalty professed in large prote­stations, affection expressed in the dearest kind, and sweetest manner; besides a meanes for our happinesse most of all belieued, and sought. What can you imagine then Madam (said she) that I did? I kist the letter, wept with ioy, too soone fore-telling the greater cause, which for his sake I suffered, teares proouing then but slight witnesses for my far deeper suffering; when I found all this contrary, and my Alanius false, the heauens I thought would sooner change, and snow lie on AEtna, then he would breake his faith, or be vngrate­full to me, who then for him ventured life and fortunes; for, to fulfill his de­sire, I went with the Youth, cald Menander, hauing gotten such things as were necessary for my escape, assisted by a maid in the house, who much pitied my estate, but more loued Menander, who made vse of it that night for my bene­fit. In a disguise which he had brought thither, vnder colour of necessaries, we left the house, and soone arriu'd at the appointed Groue, which was at the Hilles foote. All the way feare possessed me, left I had too long staid, and so giuen him cause of vnkindnes, that I no faster hasted to him, who alone could truly giue me life in comfort, and desire to see him, made me accuse my selfe of long tarrying, especially when I saw him there; but what saw I with that? death to my ioy, and martirdome to my poore heart: for there I saw him in anothers armes, wronging my faith, and breaking his made vowes. I stood in amaze, not willing to belieue mine eyes, accusing them that they would carry such light to my knowledge, when to bring me to my self, or ra­ther to put me quite from my selfe, I heard him vse these speeches: It is true; I lou'd Liana, or indeed her fortune, which made me seeke her; but in compa­rison of thee, that affection borne to her, was hate, and this onely loue, rather esteeming my self happy in enioying thee, and thy delights, then if endowed with this whole Iland. What is riches without loue (which is in truth the on­ly riches)? and that doe I now possesse in thee. These words turnd my ama­zednes to rage, crying out; O false and faithlesse creature, beast, and no man, why hast thou thus vildly betrayd thy constant Liana? Hee looking vp, and perceiuing me, and his fault, said nothing, but as fast as guiltines stor'd with shame could carry him, hee fled, his delight (or wanton) following him, which way they tooke, when out of the Groue, I know not, nor the ho­nest Lad, who would not leaue mee, bearing part with mee in griefe, [Page 211] and I with him of shame, infinitely molested, that hee was made an instru­ment in my betraying. When I had endured a little space (like a Cabinet so fild with treasure, as though not it selfe, yet the lock or hinges cannot con­taine it, but breake open): so did the lock of my speech flie abroad, to disco­uer the treasure of my truth, and the infinitenesse of his falshood, not to bee comprehended, Passions grew so full, and strong in mee, I swounded, and came againe to feele and increase misery: hee perswaded, I was willing to heare him, who I saw had been in goodnesse to me, cosned as I was. We left the Groue (accursed place, and in it my cause of curses) comming into a faire meadow, a dainty wood being before it, and another on the side of it; there did my vnfortunate eies againe meete with Alanius, vnlucky encounter where I saw such falshood, which yet boldly venturd towards mee, hee run­ning with greatest haste after me, but sending his voyce before him, coniu­ring me by the loue I bare him, to heare him, calling mee his Liana: but as I saw him, so did his error appeare vnto me, and yet did griefe rather then hate hold the glasse to me [...] for though he had neglected, and deceiued me, and so forsaken my truth, to ioy in the loose delights of another, yet I mournd that he was deceitfull, for (God knowes) I loue him still. I fled from him, but sent my hearts wishes for his good to him, like the Parthian arrowes, which by his cries seemd to wound him, and my words (though few) to strike him, which as I ran from him, I threw back to him; It is true, I was yours, while I was accounted so by you; but you haue cut the knot, aud I am left to ioine the pieces againe in misfortune, and your losse of loue: all happinesse attend you, the contrary abiding in me, who am now your forsaken, and so, afflicted Liana. With this I got the Wood to shelter me, and the thickest part of it, at my petition to grant me succour, coueting now the greatest shade to hide me from him, to whom, and into thick shades, I lately ran. In this manner I liu'd a while there, neuer seeing company, or light, but against my will, still haun­ting the priuatest places, and striuing to gaine the sea, which soone after I ob­taind, getting the opportunity of a youths passing into Italy, who had sought Perissus, to bring him notice of his Vncles death, the King of Sicily; with him I passed, and so came into this country, where euer since I haue romingly en­dured, neuer in any one place setled. The youth Menander and I, parted at the sea, he (I thinke) going to seeke his Master, or rather you, then did shee close her speech with multitudes of teares, which truly mooud mee to much compassion, beginning then to hold her deare to me. I perswaded her to leaue that life, and liue with me, who would accompany her sorrowes, rather then afflict her with mirth; and besides, it might bee, in my company shee might gaine remedy for her torture. No remedy but death (said shee) can I haue, and too long (O me) haue I sought that; yet to obay you, I will abide some time here, and but here in these woods, beseeehing you not to vrge me to the Court, when the poorest place, much better doth agree with my estate. I to enioy her conuersation, granted to any thing, concluding that I should often visit her, and so passe our times together in louing discourse.

This, said Amphilanthus, (by your fauour sweete sister) prooues you loue; the water it seemes, hath not so thorowly washed away your affection, but reliques remaine of the old passion.

No truly dear [...]st brother (said shee) all those thoughts are cleane droun'd; [Page 212] but yet; I will goe on with my story. Doe deare Sister (said he) and begin againe at (But yet). She blusht to find he had taken her, and yet daintily pro­ceeded. That promise most religiously was kept betweene vs, euery day I visiting my Shepherdesse. But one day as we were together discoursing and walking in the wood, we heard one not farre from vs, sadly to sing an od kind of song, which I remember, getting afterwards the coppy of it; and if I bee not deceiu'd sweet Cosin (said she) you will like it also; the song was this, speaking as if she had by him, and the words directed to her, as his thoughts were.

Pamphilia much commended it, which pleased Vrania infinitely, touch­ing (as she thought) her one estate, while a proper song, and well composd: truly (said Amphilanthus) is this to be so much liked? but my cosin only doth it to please you. No in truth, said Pamphilia, it deserues in my iudgement much liking; he smild on her, Vrania going on, you seeme Brother, said she, a little willing to crosse me this day, but I will proceed in discourse. The song (you are pleasd to iest at) being ended, the same voyce againe did begin to la­ment in this manner: If scorne be ordaind the reward for true loue, then I am fully requited? if firme affection must be rewarded with contempt, and forsaking, I am richly pay'd? but if these deserue a sweet payment, which a­lone consisteth in deare loue, then am I iniurd, and none more causelesly affli­cted, or cruelly reiected? Loue, suffer what thou wilt, faith indure all neg­lect, but euer be your selues pure and vnspotted. Vnkind Liana, yet pardon me for calling thee so, since my heart grieues at that word vnkind, yet giue me leaue to tell thee, I haue not deseru'd this punishment from thee, nor meri­ted this rigor, if anothers offence may make me faulty, I am most guilty, els as free as my loue still is to thee, from blame, or thought of staine in it: art thou not then vniust (sweete Iudge of all my harmes) to punish me without a fault committed: Pitie me yet, and recall the censure wrongfully giuen on me, condemned without a cause, and still led on towards execution in daily tor­tures [Page 213] without merit. Did any man die for anothers act? then I must also suf­fer that tiranny, else consider, falfe iudgement is a shame vnto the Iudge, and will lie heauy on his conscience: call backe then e're I die, this vnmerited verdict, since my truth with-stands thy cruelty. I would with Liana haue gone to see who this was that thus accused her, but that we heard him againe say some Verses, which being concluded, we went to him; but as wee went, we heard another speake vnto him thus. Alanius, why doe you thus accuse Liana, and torment your selfe with that, which were shee certaine of, shee would, and must pity you? nor can you blame her for flying you, seeing as we both belieued your vnkindnesse and foule error. Alas, said Alanius, farre be it from me euer to blame her, nor can my soule permit me to loue her lesse, though she were curst; nay, were she false, I yet should loue her best; but be­ing by you assured of her truth, giue me leaue to blame her rashnes, and curse my owne ill fortune, and vnluckie life, which gaue, and giues such dislike and smart vnto my dearer selfe, and my sad daies. Liana now knew not what to doe, when she was certaine this complainer was Alanius, and the other (as she did imagine) Menander: but I willing to reconcile such broken fortunes, made her goe towards him, accompaning her sorrowes my selfe. When be­ing neere him, and he looking vp, perceiuing her (without ceremony, or re­garding me) ran vnto her, and kneeling downe, cry'd out these words. Alas my deare Liana, what hath your vnhappy slaue Alanius deseru'd to be thus pi­tilesse tortured? heare but the truth, and before you rashly censure me, con­sider my great wrongs, which I still suffer by mistakes in you. Liana, who lo­ued as much as he, and was as equally perplexed, yet now a little more, if pos­sible bearing her owne, and his sorrow; for her affliction as being his, and caused by her, she lifted him vp from the ground, and with teares said: Think not my Alanius thy Liana can be other to thee, then thou wilt haue her be, yet blame me not directly for these things, since here Menander can resolue thee of the cause: yet let that passe, and now bee confident, thy loue hath such command mee, as hadst thou been (false she would not say) as we imagined thy repentance, and thy loued sight should haue destroyd all those thoughts, where in offence might haue been borne to thee, and so forgetfulnes in mee had gouernd with the memory of thy loue. Then rising, with a kisse the lo­uers reconcil'd themselues, and cast away their mourning: but the story being strange where on their mistaking did arise, you shall heare that some other time.

Nay sweet Vrania (said Amphilanthus) let vs heare it now, where can we be better then here? what company so pleasing, or dearer to vs? If Pamphilia be agreed (said she) I will continue it. Take no care of me (said she), for be­lieue it, I am neuer so happy, as when in this company; eyes then spake, and shee proceeded. Wee sat then downe, and Alanius kneeling before vs, be­gan: The first part of my life (and the happy part I am sure) this Shep­herdesse hath related, and brought it to the full period of it, nay to the height of my misery; wherefore I will begin with the succession of that, and as I imagine where shee left, which was with her leauing mee in the plaine, or better to resolue you of the deceit, with the night before wee were to meet; she cōming before me to the place appointed, saw (as she ima­gined) my selfe her louer, wronging my loue, and her: well, and ill for me she [Page 216] might conceiue of it so, but thus in truth it was. There liu'd a Shepherd then, (and my companion he was) who bewitched with a young maydes loue, that vnluckily had plac'd her loue on me, plotted to deceiue her, and in my shape to winne, what his owne person could not purchase him; where­fore that (in that) vnlucky night, he came vnto my lodging, and stole away my clothes, I vsually on solemne dayes did weare; in these habits he went into the Groue, being so like in stature, speech, and fauor, as he oftentimes was taken, euen for me. Knowing her walke in the euening, to be towards those woods, in the Plaine he saw her, and followed her into the Groue, ouertaking her, iust in the same place appointed for our blisse; being a little darkish, she mistooke him, and hoping it was I, was content to be blinded: but wherein I doe most accuse him, was, he vsed some words (to giue her true assurance 'twas my selfe) concerning deare Liana. These vnhappily [...]hee heard, and these, I must confesse, gaue full assurance of my faulsest fault. I cannot blame thee sweet, loue made thee feare, and feare inraged thee, and yet (my heart) thou mightest haue heard thy poore Alanius speak, yet, as this honest Ladd told me, thou didst neuer hate my person, though condemne my disloialtie, which in my greatest misery, gaue yet some easie stopp vnto my paine, and that thou didst assure me of, for in all thy fury and flight, thou seemedst to wish me bless'd. She hauing made more hast then I, came thither first, and so perceiu'd (as shee mistrusted) my amisse. I following my first directions, likewise came, but in her stead, onely I dis­cernd the footesteps of a woman hauing gone in hast; I had no thought, nor end of thinking but of Liana, fear'd some danger to her selfe, or harme which had ensued, as the night and vnfrequented places might produce. Not dreaming on this harme, I followed those steps, (for hers I knew they were, her foot so easie was to be discerned from any others, as a dainty Lambs from any other sheepe) long had I not persued, and euen but newly in the meadow, when I did see my deare, but she as much offended there­withall, as I was ioyd at first, fledd from me, giuing mee such language, as my fate appear'd by that, to be vndone. I cry'd to her, shee [...]ledd from me, accusd me, and yet did wish all happinesse attend me; this was comfort in despaire. I followed still, till I lost, not my selfe, but my witts, growing as madd, and doing as many tricks, as euer creature distracted did or could com­mitt.

From Pantaleria I got into Cicilie, in a boat taken vp by a Pyrat, for a boo­ty, but finding in what estate I was, he landed me at Naples. There I passed some time, where yet the fame liues of my madnesse; distemper'd as I was, I fell in company with a louing Knight, (as since I vnderstood by this my dearest friend) who was in the next degree to madnes, louing ouermuch, and with him came into this kingdome, where I haue lost him, but heere gained my friend Menander, who conducted me vnto a vertuous Lady, skil­full in Physicke, who neuer left with curious medicines, and as curious paines, till I recouer'd my lost wits againe. Then being sensible (and most of my distresse) I tooke my leaue, and with Menander, came vnto this place, be­ing directed by as sadd a man, as I then was, now come againe to life by you, my deare forgiuer, and my onely ioy.

What man directed you so neere the Court, said Liana? an vnlikely place [Page 215] to finde my sorrow by. A poore, and miserable Louer too, said Alanius, who we found laid vnder a Willow tree, bitterly weeping, and bewailing the cruelty of a Shepherdesse who had vnwillingly made her selfe mistris of his heart. We went to him, to demand some things of him, which as well as griefe would suffer him, he answered vs, but so strangely, as appear'd, he de­sired to speake of nothing but his Loue, and torture for it; telling vs, that he was a man, whose Destiny was made to vndoe him, louing one, who no griefe, teares, praiers, or that estate they held him in, could bring to pitty, hauing setled her loue so much vpon another, as shee hated all that sought, (though for their good) to worke her thoughts to change.

By the discourse, and description, we soone found, it was no other then your sweetest selfe, my deare Liana, that brought vs hither, where wee are assur'd of you, and what we hoped for before; vnder that tree we left him, where he vowes to remaine while he hath life, and after, there to be buried, that being his bed, and then shall be his Tombe. Liana modestly denied the knowledge of any such matter, so with much affection, and such loue, as I yet neuer saw the Image of the like; they welcom'd each other, hearts, eyes, tongues, all striuing to expresse their ioyes. Then did they returne with me to the Court, and were those two strangers, you deare brother, commended so in the Pastorall. Menander I tooke to waite on mee, who conf [...]ss'd, hee had (as Liana told me) left Pantaleria to finde me, and now is hee here atten­ding in my Chamber. This sweet discourse ended, they rose and went in­to the Court, the Princes liking this which so kindly concluded with en­ioying.

But that being so blessed a thing, as the name is a blessing without the benefit, must be now in that kinde, onely bereft some, who deserues the richest plenty of it. Ollorandus continuing in the Morean Court, newes was brought vnto him of his Brothers death, by which hee was now Prince of Bohemia, and besides desired by his old Father to returne, that he might see him, if possible, before his death, which, both for age, and griefe of his Sons death, was likewise soone to befall him. The Prince met Amphilan­thus iust at his returne from the walks, hauing left the Ladies in their cham­ber, and was going to seeke him, to discourse some of his passions to him, but he preuented him thus.

Most deare, and onely worthy friend, read this; I dare not beseech your company from this place, but see my necessity, and so weigh my fortune; you know that I haue beene enioynd not to leaue you, you know likewise, what good I must receiue from you, when is that likely to come but now? Amphilanthus read a letter which he gaue him, and thereby saw he was to accompany his friend, and leaue his better friend (because more deare) be­hinde. In great perplexitie he was, diuided twixt two loues, and one to be dissembl'd, yet he answer'd thus.

The happinesse befalne to Bohemia in you, I ioy for, and yet in compari­son of you, it is but little, your merits being more then that Kingdome can pay, or many answer; but are you resolu'd to goe straight thither? What needs such a iourney, since passion is strongest at the first? and if it would haue causd your Fathers death, that before now happened; neuer bee so doubtfull of his safety, but bee confident he is well, or if other, you may [Page 216] (time enough) goe thither: the Countrey so much loues you, as they will neuer let your absence wrong you; the same of your valour is such, as none dare goe about to vsurpe your right: your cares then, thus may bee settled for home businesses, and you resolue to heare once more from your Countrey, before you goe thither. Your promises here infinitely ingage your stay. How will you answere the going your selfe, and carrying mee, (who I must not leaue) from the succour, you formerly promised Steriamus? The time growes on, and the Army will bee together within this moneth, ready to martch; besides, his confidence is as much in you, and mee, as in a good part of the Troope, how can wee dispence with this? Put it off I beseech you, if you will fauour vs so much, and yet, thinke not I speake this to deny going with you, or to show vnwillingnesse, but in truth, out of these reasons.

And one more (deare friend) said Ollorandus, the Queene Pamphilia I heare, is shortly to returne into her owne Kingdome, whither you promis'd to conduct her. That is true, said Amphilanthus, yet I preferre my friend­ly respect to you before such a seruice, and to such an one whose iudgement is mix'd with that noblenesse, as she will not binde one to anothers harme, to performe a complement to her; yet I must confesse it would grieue mee to faile her, who on my promise came hither from Cyprus, nor would I leaue her vnguarded, or guarded by any but my selfe, if not to goe with you; whose loue, and company, I esteeme aboue all mens, or any fortune.

My loue, said Ollorandus shall waite vpon yours, equall it, I dare not say, my selfe being so much inferiour to you in all perfections, as all parts of me must yeeld to you; but to my ability, mine shall approue it selfe, and euer be faithfull; but let me say this to you, that these reasons are nothing to hin­der me, your commands hath more force, and euer shall bee of power, to alter and rule my courses. For Steriamus, I loue him next to you, and aboue mine owne Kingdome, which else is most to me; if alone, that call'd vpon me, I would stay: but I am summon'd by my Father, duty herein obligeth me, nor is there such present neede of my going into Albania; it will bee a moneth, you say, before the Army be ioynd, it may bee two, well then, How long will they be martching? Besides, you haue no certaine [...]y which way you must passe: through Epirus, you shall not without fighting, the braue and faire Queene of that Countrey hath alreadie refused it, Where­fore I say, by that time euery thing be ready, and the Army neere Albania, we may meet it, and come time enough to serue Steriamus. You said, an­swered Amphilanthus, I had one reason more then I alleadged to you, but I will sweare you want not another cause to inuite you that way; must not I be fauourd by you to see your Melysinda, this is the kingdome you prouide for, and this is the true ende of your obedience. If you haue gessed right, I cannot blame you, said Ollorandus, hauing a sense of parting in you. Well, let my going be for her sake, and your stay for the other, heere wee must part then? Not so, said Amphilanthus, I will goe with you, especially if you entend to goe into Hungaria. I intend that, said he, if I liue; then must I break all appointments, and attend you: they embraced, and so parted, resoluing with all speed to take their voyage. Ollorandus promising himselfe much good in it, Amphilanthus heartily mourning; but the graue Melissea had [Page 217] coniur'd them not to part, and therefore he must obey. When Supper was done, Amphilanthus and Selarinus, (according to their custome) brought the Queene of Pamphilia to her Chamber, with whom Vrania lay by her intrea­ty, and Selarina in the next roome, being then likewise there. When they were thither come, Amphilanthus countenance changed from the wonted manner of mirth, and excellent discourse turn'd into silence, and sighes: It made the Ladies sadd to see it, and desirous [...] to know the ca [...]se, Vrania therefore began to aske the reason of this alteration. Hee casting his eyes with true sadnes where his heart was prisoner, (Selarina standing iust before him) onely said, that till that time he was neuer so afflicted. Whereby my Lord, said Pamphilia, if I may aske the reason why, being with desire to serue you, if my seruice may auayle you? Alas Madam, said he, it is in you to make me happy. Then can you neuer misse happinesse, said she.

With that Vrania and Selarinus, and his Sister, left them together sitting on the bed, they walking to the window, and finding their discourse long, went into the next roome, which was a Cabinet of the Queenes, where her bookes and papers lay; so taking some of them, they passed a while in reading of them, and longer they would haue done so, but that they heard excellent mu­sick, which cald them to hearken to it. It did consiste of Lutes and Voyces, and continued till the end of the discourse betweene the matchlesse Princes; which being finished, they came to them, and Amphilanthus told them, hee was now at liberty to goe: To goe, whi [...]her (said Vrania)? a tedious, and vn­willing voyage (said hee), but Destiny will haue it so; yet shall I goe better contented then I feard I should haue done, and yet with that more perplex'd, because I goe. Some other speeches passed, Vrania extreamely bewailing his going, and more grieuing, when she knew the resolution taken by Pamphilia also to depart. These sorrowes tooke away their attention from the song, and now being late, Amphilanthus and Selarinus tooke their leaues for that night, going downe a back-way through a Garden where this musick was; being to passe by them, and vnwilling to be seene, they threw their cloakes ouer their faces, and so purposed to passe. But the Master of that company hating any man that receiued fauor from his Lady, when he wanted it (not imagining Amphilanthus had been one) rudely pull'd the cloake of Selarinus downe. Amphilanthus instantly drew his sword, and strake him on the head, the other likewise struck, but they were parted quickly, and making no more noise, the offence giuer knowing Selarinus retird, they passing on without more hinderance into their chambers. Amphilanthus come to his, indured the night with much impatiency, the day being as he thought spiteful to him, and therfore would not appeare; when she did, he kindly forgaue her stay, & instantly made himself ready to attend her. Into the Garden walks hee went, knowing the Ladies would not be long from thence; but wandring vp and downe, as his thoughts were restlesse, he came to the Willow tree, where An­tissia found Pamphilia: vnder that he lay, where not being long, he heard the voices of men, on that other side of the riuer, & hearkning a little, vnderstood what they said, & by their voices who they were. He marueld infinitly at the discourse, whē he found it was Leandrus whō he had struck, & was as sory for it, as if he had willingly hurt his brother: but remēbring the maner, he knew he was not to be blamd, for the man who puld his friends cloake downe, had [Page 218] drawne his owne hat so low ouer his eyes, as although hee was able vnder it to see him, yet it hindred the discouery of himselfe. Well Leandrus (said he) thanke thy selfe for this; and though thou didst offer the iniury, I am sorry for thee, and glad I did no more harme to thee. But the other pursuing their discourse, he heard it resolu'd, that if Pamphilia did refuse him, he would vse all meanes possible to win her by her friends, the last meanes hee would vse, should be by Amphilanthus, who hee would intreate to be a mediator for him, if he denied, he might take vnkindnes to him for it, if Selarinus married her, he might haue a iust quarrell to him for seeking her, when he was a pro­fest suiter to her.

These things troubled the Prince, and most to see such ill nature in Lean­drus, for the other he knew he should haue time enough to bee reuenged of him at his pleasure. Hauing heard thus much (and soone is enough found, when ill is discernd where goodnesse should be seene) he went back into the Woods, and there met Pamphilia, Vrania, Rosindi, Steriamus, and Selarinus, comming together, and saying, they had sent Philarchos to seeke him. Here­ply'd, those Woods and walkes could giue the onely account of him since day. Pleasantly they passed a while together, when Parselius and his Delinea also came vnto them, and passing downe towards the riuer, Amphilanthus turnd them backe, they wondring at it, but hee intreating them, they obayd. Surely (said Rosindy) it is because he will not see the place where hee had so great an iniury done him, as to haue me taken for him. Amphila [...]thus neuer hauing heard of that before, would not be denied, till hee had all the story, which the brother and sister deliuer'd to him.

And haue you sufferd (said he) thus much for me? alas that I might liue and be worthy to deserue it. They then turnd againe towards the company, but the place being deuided into many seuerall walkes, the troope had deui­ded it selfe, euery couple hauing taken a different walke: which Rosindy see­ing, and besides perceiuing Orilena comming alone; I will not sure (said hee) be out of fashion, wherefore I will leaue you two together, and take yonder Lady to walke with me; then were they wel placed; for Steriamus had Vrania, Parselius his Dalinea, Rosindy his sister, and Selarinus was before gone in, to [...]all forth Selarina.

Thus they passed the morning, and then returnd to dinner, where they found Leandrus full of discontent, but this company made him dissemble it. After dinner the King call'd his daughter Pamphilia to him, telling her what an earnest suiter Leandrus was to him for his consent to haue her in mar­riage, which he liked very well of, considering his worth, and the fitnesse of his estate, alleaging all the reasons that a wise and carefull father could make vnto himselfe, or perswade with, to a beloued daughter. To which she hum­bly made this answere; That all those things his Maiesty had said, she confes­sed to be true, and that he was worthy of the greatest fortune the world had in a wife: but his Maiestie had once married her before, which was to the Kingdome of Pamphilia, from which Husband shee could not bee diuorced, nor euer would haue other, if it might please him to giue her leaue to enioy that happinesse; and besides, besought his permis­sion, for my Lord (said shee) my people looke for me, and I must needs be with them.

[Page 219]Why, said the King, that is but as if it were a portion giuen you to your mar­riage? Not to Leandrus my Lord (said shee) I beseech you, for I cannot loue him; nor can I belieue he loues in me ought besides my kingdome, and my honour in being your daughter; Antissia better fitteth him, who was ap­pointed for him. The King knew she had reason for what she said, and so assu­ring her, that he would not force her to any thing against her mind, though he should be glad of the match, if it could content her, they fell into other dis­course, and then the King going in, the young Princes euery one discours'd where they liked best. Amphilanthus was gone forth with Ollorandus, the rest altogether; Selarinus comming to Pamphilia, and telling her what an acci­dent happened to him the night before, when (said he) I was likely to haue been well knockt (but for Amphilanthus) for being honourd in your pre­sence so late. The Queene who bore dislike enough before to Leandrus, was euen inraged now against him, yet her discretion told her, the lesse that were spoken of, the much better it would bee, wherefore she said little of it, but discoursed with Selarinus, as she vs'd to doe finely and plainely, being the man she only trusted as a friend, and who indeed euer proou'd so vnto her, as in many actions she had triall of. Now was Selarinus in loue desperately with Philistella, the second daughter to the King of Morea, a young princesse so ex­celling in fairenes, as snow & roses could but equall the white, and red in her face: neuer was seene so excellent a beauty for whitenesse, for though Pam­philia had the fame for the onely Princesse liuing, yet was she not so white in the face as Philistella; her beauty being in sweetenesse and louelinesse, most excelling, and in the richnesse of her mind, which beautified her person, and yet the purenesse of her skinne (for as much as was seene as necke and hands) did farre surpasse her sister, which yet was thought to bee, but because the younger Ladies face, was without all comparison so pure and faire, as made her other skinne (though excellent) shew duller by it: her haire was whi­ter then the Queenes, but hers was brighter, hauing a glasse vpon it, match­lesse for rarenesse of colour, and shining. This Philistella had conquered the hearts of many, but Selarinus was the man, that sought her with most hope, the others either not daring, or knowing they were not fit for her, con­tented themselues with beholding her, and knowing they fruitlesly did lan­guish in that loue.

Now had Selarinus broken this secret to Pamphilia, who at this time tooke occasion to speake againe of it, which was such content to him, as nothing could be more; and moou'd that passion in him, as his face and eyes spake for his heart, that it was vpon the rack of hope and feare. Leandrus seeing this, belieued it had been for Pamphilia, which mooued him to greater ha­tred against him, verily thinking it to be this Prince whom she affected, see­ing how willingly shee did embrace his company. Amphilanthus then came in, whom Leandrus straight went vnto, desiring him, that he would giue him one thing that he would demand of him. Aske (said hee) any thing of mee whereto I am not engaged, and I will grant it you. I know not how I may secure my selfe in that (said hee) for if you haue a mind to refuse vnder this, you may deny me all.

Nay (said he) mistrust not me causelesly, nor touch me with such basenesse, for neuer yet dealt I but truly with all men. Pardon me my Lord (said hee) [Page 220] and I will take your word, if you will first except some number of things whereto you are ingaged. Only two (said he), and on my world I wil grant any other.

Then said Leandrus; My suite to you is, that since I haue been a long, ear­nest, and passionate suiter to your faire (but cruell) Cosin, & now hauing got the consent of her father, her mother, her brothers, and most of her friends, that you will likewise ioyne with them, and speake vnto Pamphilia for mee; I know she respects you much, and will be as soone directed by you, as by any friend she hath: wherefore I beseech you grant me this fauour, and by it tie me perpetually to your seruice.

The King replied, that it was true, they had all seene his affection to her; they confessed his worth and deserts to bee equall with any Prince, and to merit any wife, whose answering loue might meete his: but for his Cosin, she was of her selfe, and as farre as he could vnderstand by her, she purposed not to marry: if he had gaind the consent of her parents and brothers, hee had purchased the surest to preuaile with her: but for himselfe, although he confessed in that his happinesse, that shee did so much esteeme of him, and fouud that she would heare him as soone as any other; yet it was his misfor­tune in this, that he could not doe him that seruice he desired to doe, to make manifest his loue vnto him, for he had now lighted on one of the excepted things, since but this last night (said he) speaking of marriage, shee said, shee was already bestowed vpon her people, and had married her selfe to them. I vrging her youth, and the pitie it would bee she should die, without leauing some pictures of her self, so excellent a piece. She said, her friends (she hop'd) would keepe her memory, and that should be enough for her. But I striuing further to perswade her to the altering of that determination; My Lord (said she) it is settled, and as you will euer make mee see you loue mee, and would haue me confident of your well-wishings to me, let mee begge this of you, that you will neuer speake to me of any husband. I swore it, and seal'd my vowes on her faire hand. Wherefore my Lord Leandrus, you see how I am bound, otherwise belieue it, I would not deny your noble request, but speake for you (I protest truly) as soone, or sooner then for any other liuing. The Prince Leandrus was contented with this answere, belieuing him, as iustly he might doe, for he had said but onely truth to him.

Then parted they, Leandrus giuing him many thankes for his noble free­dome, going to Philistella, who with Selarina was passing the time, Pamphilia bringing Selarinus to them, and so pretily did discourse, while Steriamus ear­nestly did pursue his affection to Vrania; which although she willingly enter­tain'd, yet she meant to be as wary as she could (hauing been once deceiued), wherefore with much modesty and mildnesse, she denied; and yet with her sweetnesse in denying, gaue him hope and heart to proceed, which at that time they being together, he gaue witnesse of, hauing gaind the fauour of her standing alone with him in a window, protesting all the true and zealous af­fection, that a man could beare vnto a woman. She told him, that these protestations hee had so often before vsed to Pamphilia, as hee was per­fect in them; for (said shee, my brother hath told mee, and many other, what a power her loue had ouer you, though shee neuer receiued it, or did more, if so much as pitie you.

[Page 221]It is most true (said hee) that your brother found me a miserable piece of mankind, made anew by loue, to be lesse then any of my sex, and yet his grea­test slaue: shee reiected mee; I now thanke Heauens for it, since I was kept for this happinesse, shee for a greater then my selfe, which I wish [...]hee may enioy, and I bee blessed with your fauour; which as my onely bles­sing I doe wish for, and aske as my onely blisse. But what let can my former loue bee to your receiuing mee? I am not the first that hath lost my Loue? What blame then can that bee to mee, my choice being so good? did not (I pray you) Parselius your Cosin, loue before he married Dalin [...]a? and Vrania (I thinke) liked, before shee was throwne from the Rock. Cast away then all former faults, and burie them in the Deepes, where those loues were cured, and take a perfect one, new borne vnto you, and with you.

Shee blushed, and told him, hee grew bitterer then louers vse to be. He smild, and told her, none that had a spot should find fault with anothers, vnlesse theirs were cleane washed away, and the other remaining. But I feare (said shee) you will not now bee true.

Nothing (said hee) but that water could haue cleansed my heart from that ranckling wound, nor now shall any thing al [...]er my truth to you. Another charme may cure you, said she? Neuer (said hee) nor helpe if not your loue. It grieues mee (said shee) that I cannot then present you with my first affection; yet truly may I in a kind; for I liked you before I loued the other. Giue mee this second (said hee), which as the first I will esteeme, and cherish it; for a new created one it is, and so shall liue in me, neuer more blessed then now, neuer truer shall any loue be to one: nor more iust then mine, said she.

Thus they giuing these prety assurances of eithers affections, he presented her with a Bracelet of Diamonds. She the next day requiting it with a much more pretious one to his thoughts, being a brede of her haire. No day passed that some sweet delightfull passages passed not betweene them. The Court now fild with loue, Parselius perceiued their loues, and was as well contented with it, as Vrania had been with his, and as freely did they before him shew it. Amphilanthus infinitely glad of it, and seeking all meanes for the conti­nuance of it, so as each day Pamphilia's chamber swarmd with louers: Steria­mus and Vrania, Selarinus and Philistella, Parselius and his wife, Philarchos and his Orilena, the Queene her selfe beholding them, while her heart was as true a patient, as any of theirs, but must not shew it. Leandrus with the rest had leaue to visit her, but to see his passions, to one that were sure neuer to be in such a snare, it were sport, else a terrible feare to fall into such a Laborinth. The Queen gratiously respected him, but when he spake of loue, she then was deafe, & euer found occasion to discourse of somthing els, or to some others. Amphilanthus graced Selarina most with his discourse, which made the whole Court iudge his affection was placed there, & in truth she did deserue it, for she was an excellent fine Princesse; but frō al these amorous delights the braue Prince must go, & betake himself to the field, and aduenture with Ollorandus; the next day was the time for their depart, and also for Pamphilia's going, who ouer night took her leaue of the court, not willing (as she said) to be seene so much a woman, as to weepe for parting. Yet Vrania was witnes of it, both [Page 222] getting vp earely, and Amphilanthus, with Ollorandus comming to them be­fore they were ready, stayed with them till they went downe, Vrania bring­ing her to her Coach, with the other two Princes, when with teares they parted on some sides: Vrania wept to part with her deare brother, and cou­sen. Pamphilia's heart was pierced with like sorrow, or greater, but stop'd her teares, as hauing a stronger spirit, till beholding the water in Amphi­lanthus eyes ready to fall, and waite vpon the least summons her eyes would giue; she then let some few slide, and drop, and so saluted him, loue smi­ling in their teares, to see so kind, and affectionate parting, glorying in his owne worke, as proud in such a conquest. Part they did, taking their leaue without saying, farewell, which their hearts and eyes did for them, making them then, and as long as they could, attend and behold each other, which was not long, for the waies being contrary, the sight was soone lost.

Pamphilia went alone, saue for her owne Traine of Knights, which were come out of Pamphilia, to attend her thither, and quickly, with the haste she made, arriu'd at the Sea, where shee shipped, and so passed to her King­dome, where with infinite ioy, and troopes of people, shee was receiued, and conducted to her chiefe City of Perga; where shee remain'd in plenty of all things, but the delicate conuersation she vsed to haue in Morea, which want, made her for a while melancholly: but afterwards shee comforting her selfe, with hope, and resolution, shee came abroad, and followed those delights shee was wont to affect, which was, Hunting and Hawking, and such like.

The two braue Companions holding on their way, hating the land, chose the Sea, and tooke Shpp at Sornesse, and so passing by Zants, and Setalonia, went vp the Gulfe of Venice, and landed in Triale, from whence without any one aduenture, worthy the rehearsing, they came into the confines of Bohe­mia, when they met two knights, of whom they demanded the newes of that place; they resolu'd them, that the King was dead, and that they (as many more) were going in search of their Prince, and Lord Ollorandus. Then did he discouer himselfe vnto them, which they infinitly reioyced at; so passing on, they came vnto a Castle, where they would (as they said) lodge that night, but the two Knights tolde them, that by no meanes they should doe so, for their dwelt the cruelest man that was in all those parts, his name Seuerus, and was next of the bloud to Ollorandus, wherefore by no meanes they would aduise him, (none being left but himselfe of the Stocke) to ad­uenture into his doores.

The new King imagining this a disgrace vnto him, to let any such thing passe for feare, would not be perswaded, saying, Hee was assured that hee durst not attempt any thing vpon his person; but Amphilanthus disswaded what he could, yet all in vaine, for hee was resolu'd. When nothing could preuaile against staying him, yet they obtain'd of him, that he would hold himselfe vnknowne, hee repli'd they neede not call him Ollorandus, but he would neuer leaue that happy name of the Knight of the Forrest, with which he had pass'd through so many aduentures; thus rashly would he runn into danger, and which was worst, hazad the brauest Prince. To the Gate they came, and presently were bid welcome, with many seruants who atten­ded on them, and tooke their Horses, some of them conducting them into [Page 223] the Hall, where the old Duke Seuerus sat in a Chaire, with a little staffe in his hand, his thumbe on his staffe, and his mouth on his thumbe, which euer was his fashion, when his minde was set vpon any plots; Their comming in call'd his minde a little to him, and looking on them, seeing such rarenesse in their persons, and louelinesse in their countenances, imagined them to be of great quality, especially Amphilanthus, to whom he went, and welcom'd him with the rest, desiring to know who they were, that thus courteously had honour'd his house. Amphilanthus told him that he was an Italian, and hearing of his bounty, by some of the Country, made him take the boldnes to visit him, hoping by him, also to vnderstand the manners of that place, to which as yet, he was a meere stranger. The olde Duke told him, [...]hat he had done him an especiall fauour in it, and that (wherein he could doe him cour­tesies) he should finde him most ready, in requitall of this honour. Then he demanded who the others were, and their names.

Amphilanthus reply'd, that his friend, and himselfe, vpon a certaine vow to their Mistresses, till they saw them againe, were not to disclose their names, but were only known by the titles, of the Knight of Loue, which was him­s [...]lfe; and the other, the Knight of the Forrest, and thus they had passed most parts of the world.

Whence came you last, I beseech you, said he? From Morea, said the Knight of Loue. And what newes there, I pray you, said the olde Duke? haue you not heard of Ollorandus our Prince, and now our King, by his fa­thers, and brothers death? I heard of him, said Amphilanthus, for no eares can (vnlesse deafe) but haue notice of his valour, and excellent goodnesse, and much haue I desired to be honoured with his sight, accounting it one of my misfortunes, that I am not knowne to so famous a Prince. Hath his Acts (replied the Duke) made his name so well knowne? I am heartily glad of it, for now shall this Kingdome againe flourish, when it shall be gouerned by so braue a King. But what is become of him, I pray, that you hauing such a desire to see him, could not compasse it? Truely (said the Knight of Loue) I was going to finde him, but an accident vnlooked for, call'd me from Morea, and so much against my heart, as neuer any thing was more, when I could neither goe, into Albania, where they say, he must be shortly, nor stay where I most desired. With that [...]ee sigh'd indeed, and so passionatly, as they all pittied him. Then the Duke deman­ded who the others were. He answered, strangers they encountred vpon the way, but it seem'd good Knights; So the Duke tooke the Knight of Loue on his right hand, and the Forrest Knight on his left, desiring the o­thers likewise to sit: so sitting downe altogether, Amphilanthus besought him to let him know in what estate the Country stood, for (said he) I desire to goe to the Court, and see it; but hearing the King is dead, I would most willingly be ordered by you, what I should doe. Truely (said he) Sir, I can direct you no better way, then to stay heere, till such time as we heare of our King, nothing to be seene, nor safety much in this Countrey; for an Ar­my is prouiding, men raysing, and much businesse toward. By whom, I pray Sir, said the Knight of the Forrest, are these men rays'd? The chiefe yet, repli'd he, hath not declared himselfe, but there are foure Great men, that call these Troops together, yet none of them hauing right or claime: [Page 224] it is thought they haue some other, who yet will not discouer himselfe. Who is the next in bloud, said he? Marry that am I, said he, being the last Kings Vnkle, Brother to his Father. Will not you Sir then be pleas'd, said hee to withstand these forces in the Kings right? Alas Sir, said he, you see I am old, no [...] euer was I a Souldier, borne deformed as you see, not for Armes, but Carpets; these shoulders crooked, and mishapen, were not ordaind, but to be kept from eyes, which would rather bring contempt, then respect: my Stature low, my body weake, all fram'd to be a Chamber-keeper, rather then a Knight at Armes: but I haue a Son, who I hope, wil be worthy of his bloud. Where is he, I pray, said he? Truely, now I am not certaine, but I thinke he will be here this night, answered the Duke. These things netled Ollorandus, yet he couer'd his rage as well as he could; and thus they pass'd the time till Supper, when the old Duke desir [...]d them to goe to their lodge­ings, and vnarme themselues, which they did, and returning, sate to meate. The Duke all Supper time, curiously beholding the Knights, especially Ollo­randus, who, he imagined by his complexion, and the fauour of his face, to be the King, though it was long since he had seene him; but the ground he had in malice made him discerne that, which otherwise had laine hid­den (enuy hauing sharpn [...]sse in discouering.) Thus the night grew on, and Supper ended, the Knights were brought to their seuerall lodgings.

Amphilanthus desired to lye with his friend, but the Duke, out of com­plement, (as de [...]iring-they should see their welcome, by the respect done them) would not permit them to lodge, but alone: the other two were carried to an other Towre farre from them; they being in their Chambers, Ollorandus safe, as he thought from discouery, went to bedd taking his rest very soundly, his Dwarfe lying in the next roome to him. Amphilanthus, had not so much liberty, or freedome by rest granted to him, wherefore he went not to bedd, but walked vp and downe his Camber in his old posture, armes acrosse, and breathing in sighes, wishing his eyes might be once more blessed with seeing, what his soule euer beheld with feruent loue, that neuer deuiding it selfe no more then heate from fire: Passion growne such a commander ouer him, as he was an Imag [...] of Loues torments, curiously carued to the life of passionate distresse. Measure some of his thoughts hee did, and delicately expresse his paine in Verse, but so dainty was he, as few, saue himselfe, (which was his Mistris) euer saw them, especially those which were for his parting, and those hee made that night. But his Muse had no more then finished that conceit, when she, and hee, were call'd to attendance, summon'd by a fearefull and terrible noise, mixt with voyces and armour, at last hee heard his friend say, O traytors, thus betraying a stranger, and Villaine to doe it in thine owne house; farewell deare friend, let misfortune wholly be, and end in me.

Those words, and the knowledge of the speaker, quickly make the King prepare for rescue, wherefore arming himselfe, he ran towards the Cham­ber where Ollorandus lay, but by the way he saw him fetter'd, and leading to a Gate, where it might appeare, a Prison was. He quickely came to him, crying to those, who led him, to stay; they refused, but he, who fear'd not many more t [...]e [...] they were, set vpon them; they deuided themselues, and some of them held him play, while the rest went away with the King, taking [Page 225] the aduantage of his busie fighting: but his hands were not so imployd but his eyes also vsed their office: and so well did he consider the traitors, as he neuer let them be, but in his eyes, which made him soone perceiue this vil­lany, and as readily preuent it; for they thinking to steale him away, were staied, and made in streames of bloud to deliuer their confession, and liues to his victory. The Dwarfe in this time had so roared about the Castle, as the o­ther two Knights awaked, and came to the rescue (Amphilanthus throwing a Sword and Sheild of one of the vanquished to Ollorandus), and in time they came, for hee was then readie to bee slaine; the old Duke and his sonne comming together, and incouraging their seruants by promises, and commanded by threatnings to kill him; but those Armes protected him, and then furiouslie did he flie among them, the old monster reui­ling his people for letting them escape death, till Amphilanthus got to him, and as he was opening his mouth to speake hatefully to them, he thrust his Sword into it, hindring those villanous words which hee had else de­liuered. The other two also came, and saued the braue Prince from kil­ling such a worme, dispatching that ill naturd man out of the way, of molesting any more good creatures. But his sonne reuenged his fathers death, killing the elder of those brothers, whose death Amphilanthus quick­ly pay'd, with the young mans end, striking off his arme, whereof he died; then getting close to Ollorandus, they set backe to backe, and so fought, till they gaind the stepps which went vp to the Hall, and getting euen into it, they pressed to that doore; but some who continued fight with them, kept so neare, as they got betweene Ollorandus and the doore, so as Am­philanthus hoping in the croud, his friend was come in, locked the doore, but shut Ollorandus out, where he was ingirdled with his enemies, and past hope; but the neuer daunted King espying his error, soone amended it, yet was he forced to leape out at the window, which was but low, to aide him, the dore opening outward, was held so close by the enemy, but when he was got a­mong them againe, he was like a thunder-bolt, piercing and killing all resisted him, who but like poore feeble dogges, that snarld for their best defence could not bi [...]e him. Once more he rescued his friend from apparent death, and thus performed the prophecy Mellissea had made, with double ioy to saue him, and thus soone to be at liberty to returne to his heart, for he found that now he might be priuiledged to part. This businesse done, the old, and young Dukes kild, the two honest brothers slaine, hauing gaind the fame, to die, and be laid in the bed of honor, allotted such as die in their Kings sight and quar­rell; they staid a while in the Castle, seeking for any such vnfortunate man, or creature, as had fallen into the cruel power of this man. Many they found, and among them some of their acquaintance, then setting them all at libertie, they departed towards Prage, the chiefe towne of Bohemia, attended by all those released prisoners; Ollorandus then openly discouering himselfe, troops of his subiects came daily in to him, and so within few daies he was crownd, sending some forces against those scatterd troopes were raised by the dead traytor and his confedera [...]s to oppose the Kings quiet possession: who now setled, and all solemnities past, he sent his Dwarfe into Hungary with a letter to his loue. The Dwarfe knowing his Lords mind, as wel he might (i [...] by no­thing but that hast gesse it) performd his part, being feareles of al things now [Page 226] but the Lord of Strombolly as he arriu'd in Hungary, and so by inquiry got to Buda: thence hee was directed to a Castle some ten leagues off in a Forrest, whither the Queene was gone to take her pleasure, the King staying at Buda: the Dwarfe being benighted, was glad to take his lodging in a poore house, and happy so to find one in a wild place, hauing lost his way.

The next morning hee had no sooner taken his horse, and rode halfe a league, but he met some Knights, and others riding with great speed, and ap­parreld all in greene, demanding of him, if he met not the Stagge: hee told them, he met nothing except themselues, since he tooke horse. They passed on, and still he met more, who made the same inquirie. At last hee saw a La­dy comming at full speed, attended on by many more, whose riding, and hor­ses shewed, they could more willingly haue heard of the Staggs fall, then any other tidings. But this Dwarfe, witty, and carefull of his charge, imagining this Lady (by herselfe, more then her attendants, though many, and brauely clad) to be the Queene, hee stay'd, and of one who came within some two or three of her person, desired to know, if that were not Melisinda: hee answe­red, it was: whereupon hee stay'd, and so iust in her way, as shee must stay too. She offended, began to correct him: but he kissing the letter, deliuerd it vnto her. Soone she knew the hand, and so commanded him to stay, and attend her answer.

Loue, now expresse thy selfe; is the hunting pleasing, the sport she most delighteth in, is it not now tedious and wearisome? was it feared but now the Stagge would fall too soone? Is it not now required, and wished for? Rude Beast (would shee say to her selfe) that knowes nothing but bruitish­nesse, canst not thou finish thy dayes with my best wishes to thee, for fauo­ring me? Faine she would see what was in it, and sometimes a little slacke her speede: but then fearing the company would know why her stay was, guiltinesse ouer-ruld her, and she went on, sometimes meaning to mend her seate, and so counterfeit cause of stay; then not liking that, againe in furie a­gainst the beast, pursuing him.

Thus she rid, and traueld her thoughts irresolutely, till iust before her, as if to claime a pardon for the former offence, hee fell, yeelding himselfe, and life into her power. Quickly shee alighted, and performing those Rights required by the Huntsmen, in honour of Victorie and Funerall, shee walked into a little Groaue, while her horse was stirring vp and downe, being hot and sore ridden.

When shee was there, shee kissed the letter, then opened it; but ha­uing read it, kissed it often. O deare Paper (said shee), welcome as hea­uenly blessings to mee: thou bringest mee word my Ollorandus liues; and more that hee thinkes of his poore Melysinda: liue still dearest loue, and let honour glorie in honouring thee. Happie newes to heare my Deere is a King, but most happie that hee crownes himselfe with con­stancy, the perfect lawrell for louers. Doest thou (most loued) re­member wretched mee? Nay, make mee see thy mindfulnesse by wri­ting to mee, and such sweete lines, where expressions rather want then loue; and yet such louing expressions, testifying nothing but absence makes the want. Blessed bee my Destenie, that brought me thus to hunt, [Page 227] mine eyes thrice happy that haue seene these words written by the best of men, and yet sigh'd she, when al is done the fire must consume you, that is the cabinet must hold your truths, and you most loued, must to my belo­ued and mee, prooue a sweet sacrifice for our safeties. O iealousie that spreads it selfe so farre, as onely memory can bee safe, but no reliques saue ashes remaine safe in keeping; thy ashes yet shalbe preseru'd, and as most sa­cred, still continued. Then came shee forth, and so returnd vnto the Castle, many examining the Dwarfe from whence he came, what hee would haue, and to whom he came, or whether he would goe. Hee had his errant well, and told them he was a wandering youth, once seruant to a knight, who now imprisond, he was free, but from ioy bard for the losse of him he lou'd. Ma­ny desired to haue him, but he refused all, saying, he would now returne into his owne Countrie, and there end his daies, if so his Master could not bee set free.

Thus hee put them all off, till a day past he was dispatched by the Queene, whose letter was no sooner ended, but with teares with the same light shee sealed hers, she also gaue the death to the other, or rather the safer life, sacri­ficing it vnto their loues, carefully putting the ashes vp in a daintie Cabinet, and inclosing them within; these Verses she then made, witnessing the sorrow for the burning, and the vowes she made to them burned.

This did not satisfie her, grieuing for the losse of those kind lines, but each day did shee say the Letter to her selfe, which so much shee loued, as shee had learned by heart; then looking on the Ashes, wept, and kissing them, put them vp againe; and thus continued shee, till Ol­lorandus himselfe came, to whom these daylie offerings were made; for hee, after hee had settled his Kingdome, longing as much to see her, as shee desired his presence, put the Gouernment to the charge of a pre­sident, and his Counsell, assuring them, that nothing should haue so soone parted him from them, but that hee must now performe his part of friendship to Amphilanthus, which was required of him, who had so louingly, and brauely accomplished his.

None were against that, all honouring and louing him so much, as hee had much adoe, but with kind quarrels to leaue the Countrie, with­out some of them to attend him; yet by his milde perswasions, and the new Kings commanding power, they two tooke their iourney, the Dwarfe againe returning the very day before they left Prage.

Towards Hungarie they then haste, passing through Morauia, where they met a strange encounter, and a sad spectacle, which was a compa­ny of men all on foote, being apparrel'd in long mourning Gownes; and after them a Chariot, beeing drawne by sixe Horses, they beeing couered with blacke; and in the Chariot was a bodie, beeing couer'd with a blacke Veluet couering; and at the feet of this Body sate a La­die, her face beeing towards it, and most pitifullie weeping; many more in mourning likewise walking by the Chariot, round about it, and be­hind it.

This lamentable and dolefull spectacle mooued the hearts of the Knightes, who beeing verie passionate, quickly felt pitie, and riding pre­sently to one of the followers, desiring to bee resolu'd of this matter; [Page 229] the Gentleman courteously answered, that the businesse was of so long a times discourse, as would demaund more leysure, then hee thought their businesse would well allow them; therefore hee besought to bee excu­sed, vnlesse they meant to succour that distressed Lady, who most iustly might claime assistance, and reuenge, for a murdered Knight, vniustlie, and treacherouslie slaine for loue. Loue their Master commanded their seruice, so as they said, they would willingly doe their best, to redresse such an iniurie.

Then the Gentleman going to the Lady, told her what the Knights said; she casting vp her eyes, which before she held on the Coarse, the body and soule of her affections.

Alas Sirs (said shee) what misfortune hath brought you to ingage your selues to true misery, as in ioyning with me you must do, for a more wretch­ed neuer liued to die so.

Our fortunes (said Ollorandus, speaking in her owne language) is the best we could couet, if they may prooue auaileable to you, nor doe we desire any more, then to know how we may serue you.

Then Sir (said shee) let mee bee so bold, as to demaund first, who you are, that I may discouer my estate the more freely, and willingly to you.

My name (said hee) is Ollorandus, King of Bohemia; and this is Amphilanthus, King of the Romans.

Happinesse beyond all hope (cry'd shee). Alas my Lord, this is the King that of all the World I haue desired to meete, and now trauell to seeke in Italy: then kneeled shee vnto him, beseeching him to graunt her, what hee had of himselfe so nobly promised.

Hee vowed to performe any thing whatsoeuer that lay in his power to doe: then comming forth of the Chariot, and they lighting, they re­tired into a little tuft of Thornes by the way side, shee beginning her storie thus.

Most braue and renowned of Kings, and you great King, bee plea­sed to giue eare to the saddest storie, that euer loue, and louers end hath produced.

I am that miserable vnfortunate woman Sydelia, passionately louing, and being beloued of the excellent and ve [...]tuous Antonarus; long wee loued, but a hate betweene my brother, called Terichillus, and my loue growne in their youth, hindred our enioyings; my brother so curiouslie watching mee, himselfe, or others, neuer or seldome from mee, as I was able onely to see my afflictions and wants, but not the Sunne of my content: for my Brother being the Heire of Morauia, and the other the Prince of Silesia, that kept him from venturing into his Countrie, knowing the infinite malice hee bare vnto him, alas, no way deseruing it.

But at last, my brother was to marry Orguelea daughter to the Duke of Ba­uaria, and going thither to performe it, left mee guarded by his seruants, whom in his absence so well I wrought with, as I compassed the sight of my Deare, who in the habit of a Hunts-man came vnto me; we married priuatly, and so enioyed the time till my brothers returne with his new Ladie, as [Page 230] full of spite, and ill nature, as a Spider with poyson: to her he had disclosed this matter, with his hate to Antonarus, and to her gaue the charge of mee, my Father hauing before giuen ouer the world, and was retyred into a reli­gious house, hauing left me, and all his estate to my brother, yet during his life, my brother would not take the title vpon him, but the authority of the County of Morauia. Now was my Hunts man to returne, small safetie being where such hatefull spies inhabited, no more surety then a poore hare hath in the hands of the hounds, who haue long hunted to prey vpon it: so did they seeke to ruine vs, the extreame hate my brother bare to Antonarus, rising from this cause.

When they were youthes, and both in the Emperous Court, there liu'd at that time, a young Lady of the house of Austria, [...]xcellently faire, and as fairely condition'd, whose vertues were such, as most prizing worth, for Ver­tues sake, she made choice wholy of worthin [...]sse in conuersation, choice of companions, and the whole course of her life ranne that way, which made her chooce Antonarus, and so much to affect him, as nothing but death, could be ender of her affection, and yet I know not how I can say so, since dying, shee express'd her affection to him she loued, and no question but his goodnesse requited it in his wishes to serue her; but friendship wrought so in him, as he would not seeme to receiue it, my brother being so passi­onately in loue with her, as Antonarus saw, if he accepted her loue, he must with that, kill his friend, rather then to doe so foule an act, hee would seeme cruel, and wrong, and harme himselfe, sooner then hurt him: yet oft hath he told me, that he hath from his soule, wish'd my brother had neuer disco­uer'd his affection to him, for then ignorantly hee might haue made him­selfe happy in her, whose happinesse onely consisted in him, and yet was de­nied, b [...]cause he loued his companion. O friendship, excellent vertue to be embraced, and cheerished, yet herein would such friendship had not beene. Still did Terichillus tell Antonarus how he lou'd, and how he saw she sligh­ted him, and yet cri'd he, she loues; would I were the Dogge she so kind­ly treats, and playes with all, or that little bird, which she still kisses, and car­ries in her breast, or any thing saue wretched me my selfe, so loath'd, and ha­ted by her. Then did he comfort him, telling him, patience and constancy might solicit for him, and his still presenting himselfe in her eyes, might win, if any thing could preuaile by loue. At last my brother plainely discerned the loue she bare to Antonarus, then he grew furious, and for all these former passages mistrusted this firme friend; hee finding it, and no way to kill this Cancor, tooke leaue of the Court, and my brother, at his parting telling him, that whatsoeuer he imagined of him, he should finde him true to him. To the Lady he went not, but priuately in the morning he stole away, and pass'd many Countries with much honor, but now comes the wofull part of this Story.

She seeing him gone, and Terichillus stay, quickly guess'd the matter: then grew rage in her, and whereas, before she would vse him ciuilly, for Antonarus sake, now she plainely shew'd the hate, she bare him, who she be­leeud to be the cause of his going; that beliefe told her she must not suffer such an iniury, that iniury being aboue all, where loue was by it barr'd: his sight grew odious to her, when she remembred that with him Antona­rus [Page 231] vs'd to come, now she saw nothing but the foule Coppy of an excellent worke, his presence, made her see the absence of her sole content, as the bare shelfes do of the ebbed Tyde: and as bare without liking did he seeme: yet could she not beware of the flowing ill, which followed by his spite, nor did shee striue to shunne any thing but his presence, he infinitly louing; she terribly hating, let her passion grow to such violence, as it grew infecti­ous, and he that but now sought, still continued in search, but of what? Not of loue, but meanes to be [...] reuenged of her, whose loue he could not com­passe, but whose ouerthrowe he meant to gaine. Eyes which lately seru'd to bring his comfort to him, in seeing her, are employd to be curious spies ouer her affections: howres spent wholly in examining her worth, and vertues, chang'd to plott her ruine; admiration of her goodnesse, to ad­miring, why hee could affect such a body of disdaine; alteration so be­yond expectation, as vnderstanding when this happened, was to seeke, yet did he dissemble still, and made loue (the honour of noble hearts) the co­lour for his wickednesse, making his malice spring and ouergrow his loue, as Nettles doe Violets, or Hemlock Pincks: yet did his counterfeit affection grow with it.

At last, he wrought so cunningly, as hee intercepted a Letter which shee sent to Antonarus, which hauing opened, and read, he made the answer, counterfeiting his hand so well, as none could discouer it, or know it to bee other then his; the messenger he made safe for telling tales, making bloud accompany his Treason. Thus he continued, heaping more ills vpon his soule, then shels in number are vpon the Sea-shore; alas that he were not my brother, since I must thus speake of him, or rather I would his last act, had not made me the vnwilling, and vnfit relater of his ill. The poore Lady, still louing him, writ, and with all the zealous affection shee could, perswaded his returne, with whom she would goe and bring him to the famous Duke her father, where all honour should be done him. He still answerd with de [...]layes, at last, (or indeed, his vnappointed Secratatary) made this answere, that good manners had made him thus long answer respectiuely, but since he found, that nothing but his company, and marriage would satisfie her, shee must be contented to be plainly told, that he despised her forwardnesse, and as much her selfe, his heart being set already on one, farre more deseruing then her selfe, who deserued nothing of him, to alter his former affection, nor could merit any thing of the world, if not by marrying Terichillus, who affectionatly loued her, and thus she might honor her self in requiting him, and that if she desired to haue so much as a good thought from him, shee must performe this, or else to bee assured of a mortall hater of her selfe, and house.

She (alas) whose heart loue had made tender, and tendernesse, pitifull; could not but so much pitie it selfe, as to breake with this vnkindnesse; yet died shee not speedily, but which was worst (yet in a kind, happy for her) her woman wrought such meanes, as a brother of hers found Antonarus, to whom he discouered the pitifull estate of the Lady, and what complaints she indured the absence, and cruelty of him, who sought to murder her, for faith­fully louing him. This discourse made him resolue to see her, and if it might be, to saue her, dying, or shame of it working more in him, then liuing loue [Page 232] could purchase; so as he went to the Court, where he found her ready to de­part, yet not past sense, but that shee knew him; or rather hauing only sense of loue, tooke quick apprehension, so as she looked vp, and spake chearefully to him, desiring all else to auoid the chamber, when that was done, she took him by the hand, and weeping, thus spake.

Antonarus what fault haue I committed, that hath brought this cruelty from thee? If extreame, and loyall affection can offend, then haue I infi­nitely offended? But alas, blame your selfe, your vertues made me choose you, your winning eies, made me your subiect; your worth, commanded my fidelity; you onely I loud, and you onely murder me with vnkindnesse; yet pardon me that I speake thus boldly, since I feare my former boldnesse made you despise me. Chide Loue, alas, it was he offended, and I did but by directions, write those Letters so reiected, and despised by you. He hearing her speake thus, and touch vpon Letters, desired to be resolu'd of that; she admiring at his seeming ignorant of that, yet loath, euen at the last to seeme harsh to him, told him of his curst answere, and to satisfie him, shew'd him the Letters themselues, with the Copies of hers, which (said shee) I had burnt, had you not come as you did. When he saw them, no man could ma­nifest more furious sorrow, for he could not speake, but wept, and sob'd, toare his haire, and remained like a distracted creature, till she vrging him, and he desiring to satisfie her, swore they were none of his, nor that euer he receiued any from her; O miserable man said he, thus to be betrayd, what haue I done to be thus plagued, and insufferably afflicted? Alas, my deerest, I neuer heard from thee, neuer writ to thee, but if I had, sweetnes, and loue, should haue beene the subiect, and not this.

False Terichillus, this I feare, comes from thee, for this is thy hand, I know it is the same in iest, that thou wert wont to counterfeit, and hast thou practisd it for this? vnkind, and cruell man. Shee seeing his sorrow and his clearenesse, receiued much comfort, and taking him againe by the hand, happy am I, my Lord, (said shee) that shall now ende contented, blessed in your loue, and cleare from the end, I fear'd, you had sent me; be happy my onely deare, and liue with all content, let that Lady, whosoeuer you shall choose, loue you no lesse then I doe; let her be as iust, and loyall, but so much more fortunate, for your sake, as to liue to enioy you longer. Had you beene cruell, as you were accused falsely, my loue had pardoned it, and welcommer had my death beene to me (sent by you) then life, if in dislike of you. My soule lou'd you, and loues you, nor euer suffer'd it shewe of dislike against you, I had cleerly passed into the other world without blame­ing you: yet am I happy to see you, and your truth before I part. I must leaue you, my onely loue I must goe, and yet this I will beseech you to keep of me the memory of your truest loue, and let that memory bee put with loue, and not moou'd with rage to reuenge these wrongs; he hath done you a fauour it may be, in keeping you for a worthyer, but neuer can you haue a truer. He weeping told her, he tooke that last ill, that shee would say, hee could haue a worthier. O no, said he, that cannot be, thy worth cannot be equal'd, no more then my wrongs reueng'd sufficiently. They both wept, then spake a little, and so tooke their leaues, shee seeing his sorrow, was af­flicted for it, he finding it, sought to couer it, so he kissed her, and went out [Page 233] of the chāber, with as dying a heart as she had almost, no sooner was he gone, but she calling her womā to her, willed her to burne those papers, thē taking [...] ring from off her finger (which was a pointed Diamōd she euer wore, & had vowed to doe so, till she died or married) charged her to giue it Antonarus, then turning her to the other side, tell him (said she) I bequeath this my truest loue, and last loue to him, & so I coniure him to keepe these. She went to per­forme her command, he instantly with the rest of the company came in, but there they found her dead. It was (alas) too late to recouer her, but not to giue a more happy end: how hee tooke it, onely such a loue can expresse, which began but when she was dying, and enioyed but in death. He instant­ly left the Court and hearing Terichillus, had stollen away vpon his comming, guiltinesse condemning him, he went in search of him, putting on an armour, as blacke as his sorrowes: & so he trauelled, cloathed in sorrow, accompanied with remembrance of her chast and loyall loue, her death, the treason that caused it, the iniury done him, yet her spotlesse affection. All these were motiues, the more he ran from one to the other still the first held him, and wrapt him fast in all.

Thus he went, caught in himselfe, till hee met Terichillus in a plaine be­tweene two hills to whom he sent his Squire, who was all his company, not to discourse with him, but to call him to answere the wrongs done to him and his loue; when the Squire came to him, hee made no answer but this, he had cause to call him to account, and he would satisfie him, so he prepared himselfe, and they met, where they fought a cruell fight; but Antonarus ha­uing iustice on his side, got so much the better; as hee had Terichillus vnder him, and at his mercy, which when he had confest, asked pardon of him for his fault, he tooke him vp with these words; Rise Terichillus, thy shame and conscience are sufficient reuengers, I will not shed thy bloud, which cannot cleanse so foule a fault, or satisfie for losse of her so chaste and immaculate; make it more cleare, and purer if thou canst with true repentance, while mine eyes, and heart drops, fulfill and serue for her funerall.

Then leap'd he vpon his horse leauing my brother hurt, and wounded, more with scorne, and hate of himselfe so to be saued, then kindly thank­ing him that had done it. Away Antonarus posted, and came into Morauia, to visit me, who indeed was onely his seruant, Infant Loue on my side haue­ing made me so; he stayd not long but told me all this story, for which I lou'd him better then before, gratefulnesse hauing large command ouer my hart. Hee neuer by my words had knowledge of my loue to him, till two yeares after passing by that way, and priuately desiring to see me, (vnfortu­nately for vs both) I did confesse it, hee embraced it, and so wee lou'd, my brother still continuing his hate, but in my Fathers time of life, did make no publique shew of it.

Vpon the death of him he tooke the title, and first began with open pro­clamations of his hate, and the first forbidding me his company, yet where were these proclaimd, but in his house, and to his priuate friends? yet I went further, and did warne my loue of him; this was the cause hee came not in his sight, nor to his knowledge: and in hunts-mans habit was the last time I did see him; for my brother returned with his wife, the watches were made new, and stronger ouer me, yet loue made them fruitles, [Page 234] for on a time appointed we met, and meant to keepe together; then boldly I writ to my brother, telling him what I had done, and that I hoped he would excuse me, since I had taken him for my husband, whom loue and youth had chosen for mee, and now was gone with him, whom most I loued to liue with, and whom I now was happily to obay. My brother grew infinitely in­raged with this, and straight sent out many horses to stay, and interrupt our passage; but in vaine, for we were passed, and had laid such spies for them, as kept vs free. Into Selesia we came, finding, and bringing with me all content, in hauing my owne hearts desire with me. Antonarus welcommed me with gift of all his estate; I returned that to him againe, taking a farre greater (as I esteemd it) which was himselfe and his true loue, my best and only fortune. Terichillus this while imagined himself highly iniured, wherefore he sent An­tonarus word, that so ill he tooke this affront, as he would with armes regaine his honour touched. He replied, that he had rather in his opinion, done him honor to match with him, nor did he do it for other cause then his affection, which begun in our youths, had growne to this perfection; therefore he in­treated him rather with loue, then Armes to end the businesse; if not, hee would prepare to attend his comming, as hee pleased. Within some few moneths, Terichillus with an army entred Selesia, but onely enterd it, when an army led by Polisander brother to Antonarus, met him, giuing him bat [...]aile, and life also, for he in an encounter might haue killed him, but mercy more then iudgement gouernd him, so as he spared him, on condition the warres should cease, which he promised, and a firme league should be made between vs, which Polisander should haue the glory of.

Thus agreed, hee came with him where wee were; Armes dismist, and swords laid downe, he was nobly entertaind, and receiued by Antonarus, who ment truth; and after some dayes were passed, an oath of friendship was taken of both sides. Then Terichillus returnd into his Country of Morauia, Polisander bringing him to the confines thereof, there committing him to his owne safetie. Antonarus was glad of this conclusion, because it ioyed me, and I for his quiet did reioyce. One whole yeare this lasted, in which time we had a sonne, after whose birth, and my recouery againe, Terichillus inui­ted vs vnto his Court with all loue (or better to say, show of it) we belieuing, went thither, trusting, as not meaning to bee false. Into Polisanders hands my Lord put the gouernment of the State, and also to him gaue the charge of his sonne; and well might he doe it, for a more noble honest man liues not, then he is. Into Morauia we went, met we were in the confines by noble men and Ladies, and still by more, and greater, till wee arriued at the Court, where at the gate my brother and his wife met vs; no state, nor welcome wanted, which outward testimony could expresse, nor doubted we; but like the silly birds, who hearing the sweet singing of other birds set for stales, thinking by that mirth they had no imprisonment, fall by innocent beliefe into the nets: so did we, seeing smiles, and hearing nothing but welcome and ioy speake, grew confident and bold vpon our harmes. Some daies wee staid there, Feasts, Tiltings, and all brauerie that the Court could yeeld, shewed it selfe vnto vs.

After those sports were past, Terichillus would haue vs goe a hunting, which we did, for two daies hauing excellent good, & great variety of sport; [Page 235] the third day we also were to goe and conclude our delights, which indeede wee did: for in a great Wood (and the same where my Antonarus was accustomed, when hee was a Huntsman to bide in, and from whence I heard his Horne, which was the signe of his being there, and of call for me to him) this vnnaturall man Terichillus (for longer I cannot call him brother) had laid traytors in ambush, with command to execute his will, he in the meane time telling vs, that a mighty Stagge was within, harbored of purpose for vs. Then carried he vs into the thickest of it, placing the traine on the out-side, farre enough from helpe or hinderance; with him wee went to rouse the Deere, and so we did the too costly beasts that murdered my content, for then they shewd themselues, suddenly rushing on Antonarus, who had onely a little hunting sword by his side, with which he killed one, but they many soone possest themselues of his sword and him. Then Terichillus reuiled, and scoffed at him and me, telling vs, that here was a youth, had wont to walke those Woods, and call a Nimph vnto him by his Horne: but Satyrs found their wantonnesse, and so had vowed reuenge, and thus doe we said he. Then those men, who were disguised in that shape (and the fittest for so sauage an act) murdered him, making mee behold the cruelty for the greater torture. When all was done (which ended with his life) they went away, lifting the body only vp vpon a horse, and setting me vpon mine owne againe, gaue me the bridle of the other to leade with me, as the substance and demonstration of my miserie. Out of the Wood I went with this pitifull, and yet my belo­ued companion; excessiue sorrow had so shut vp my senses, as I wept not at the instant, nor till I was to tell the Tragedy, which was presently after my comming into the Plaine, meeting some of the Selesians, who accompanied me in mourning, little else we could doe, for in the County, where the mur­derer ruled (and alas our company a handfull, in comparison of his people), what could we doe but weepe and wish? Then got we our small troope to­gether, and with as much hafte, as our heauinesse could allow vs, wee gained the Country of Selesia; to Polisander we related this villany, whose sorrow and sadnesse was such, as hee was not able to giue or take counsell, sometimes hee did purpose to r [...]uenge this treachery himselfe, cursing himselfe for sparing the murderer, when he might haue killed him, blaming his Fortune that let him liue to slay his brother: lamenting the time he made the reconsiliation, accusing himselfe as much as Terichillus, for hauing been the vnfortunate in­strument of this mischiefe. Alas (said de) how happy had Selesia been, if I had been slaine in the battaile, and how more blessed I, that had not liued to see this day: deare Antonarus, hath thy brother, beloued so much of thee, been cause of thy losse? accursed creature that I am, yet pardon mee deare brother, I lament thy death as much as heart can doe: Selesia, yours is the losse vnrecouerable in loosing such a Prince, punish me then, I am ready: and dearest Sister (cry'd he) take this life from mee, how can you see mee, who brought your worthy Lord into this misfortune? O Antonarus my soule dies for thee.

His infinite griefe was such, as most were forced to watch him, lest he made himselfe away; yet such was, and is his vertue, as I hope will protect him from vsing violence on himselfe. Much adoe we had to perswade him from going into Morauia, to reuenge his brother: but at last I gained thus [Page 236] much of him, to leaue the reueng to me [...], whose lo [...]se was greatest, and cause demaunds most pitty, to gaine some braue Prince to right me; vpon coun­sell, and my petition he granted it, whereupon I put on these robes, he pro­uiding this Chariot, and all other things necessary for our iourney, appoynt­ing the mourning in this kind. The same day that I tooke my iourney, hee proclaimed my sonne, heire and Prince of Selesia, himselfe protector, and so haue I traueled now two months, Terichillus giuing me leaue to passe through this part of his Country, to goe to finde a Knight, whose vallour, and pitty will assist me. To find you most braue and excellent King, I tooke my way, with hope to beg such a fauor of you, whose compassion and worth all toungs speake of, and harts admire; none but magnifying Amphilanthus, for true noblenesse, excellent goodnes, perfect vertue, and matchlesse valour; Wherfore I beseech you, as you may be, or are a louer, in that regard, aide me, as a King, asist me against a murderer of a Prince, and as the best of Knights, against such treachery. The cause is strange, and the businesse, it may be, will to some seeme nice, since a sister vrgeth reuenge of a brother; but weigh with all, that my loue, and husband is murder'd, and by my bro­ther's owne hands, that will wipe away all doubts, and cleere me to implore your aid. The King, and Amphilanthus much pittied, and admired the Lady, who had related this story, with as much passion, and fine expres­sion of witty sorrow as could be; Amphilanthus moued so much with it, as he presently consented, and gaue his promise to asist her: so they pass'd to the Court in the same manner as she before had trauel'd, for she had vowed, neuer to leaue the body, nor to bury it, till she had his death reueng'd. When they came where Terichillus was, she sent vnto him, to let him know shee had brought a Knight to defend her wrong, and to call him to account for his Treason, hee made his wonted slight answers: but the Lift, and all things were prepared; then entred the Lady with the body, and the two Knights accompanied with the mourners; the Princesse of Morauia, because her husband was one, would not be present, the other Ladyes were plac'd to see the fight. Then was it proclaymed, that if the Knight were ouercome, hee should loose his head, and the Lady should be at Terichillus disposing, if the Knight ouercame, then the Prince, if vanquished and aliue, should be dispo­sed of by the Lady, and the Knights, with all the troope, should haue safe passage, without stay, or disturbance in returne.

Thus all agreed on, the Trumpets sounded; Terichillus furious, and ambi­tious of victory and peace, encountred Amphilanthus with such strength, as he made him bow backwards on his horse, but the King strooke him flat on his backe vpon the ground, hauing meanes by this, to aske pardon from hea­uen for his offence: but he least thinking of so good a matter, quickly got vp, and with his Sword in his hand, did attend Amphilanthus, whose noble cur­te [...]ie was such, as not to take aduantage of him, lighted also to fight on foote. Terichillus was valiant, strong, and now to fight for life, and honour, so as hee held Amphilanthus longer play, then many had done; yet at last he acknow­ledged with all others, the King to be fittest to be yeelded vnto, and so per­ceiuing his life at an end, curstly set his sword on the ground, and brake it, de­sirous as it seemd to die vnarmd, rather then disarmd by Amphilanthus; which was to no purpose, he making him openly make confession of his fault; ask par­don, [Page 237] direct, that al should obay his sister as their Lady and Princesse; weep and lament his fortune without compulsion, and according to his ill life, hee fro­wardly and peeuishly concluded his daies, leauing behind him this certain­tie, that such treasons are neuer any more left vnpunished, then Countries without Princes: for straight was his Sister proclaimed, and he as soone for­got, as she speedily receiued.

The King of Bohemia, and the King of the Romans were carried into rich chambers, but they since the last busines in the Castle, would neuer lie alone, so as they were lodged together, and as soone as Amphilanthus was recouerd of some slight wounds, he receiued in this combat, they took their leaues, fol­lowing on their iourney for Hungary. But as they were euen ready to leaue Morauia (hard by a Wood, which grew from the bottom of a hill to the top, the hill steepy, craggy, and ful of rocks, and places where stones had been cut for building of a stately Abby, which was among meadowes, not farre from the foote of this hill, betweene two dainty riuers, but then decaied by warre) they met a Lady running, her haire loose, couering her face, her cries loud and fearefull, her cloathes halfe on, and halfe off, a strange disorder in her words, she spake as if danger pursued, and helpe requisitly demanded; a little from her were some men, who hastily followed her, one especially from whom it seemd, she sought to be deliuered. Amphilanthus willing to aide, and she seeming to beseech it, rid to her, to demand the cause; she fled, he pursued till they came to the bottom of a great quarry, there in some thicknesse she of­ferd to couer her self; but he lighting, desired to know the cause of her flight and danger. She, as if her enemy had been at hand, amazedly, and frightfully answered; Alas Sir? what meane you? what iniury haue I done you, that you should thus follow me? I neuer wrongd you, why seeke you my dishonour? He reply'd, that she was deceiu'd, and therefore intreated her to looke vp a­gaine vpon him, & she would see her error. Then beholding him wishly, as if she had been till then in the wrong; Pardon me my Lord (said she) for I mis­tooke you, my misery being such, as hath quite destracted me, I am a poore Lady dwelling here, not farre hence, in yonder old Abbey, Lady thereof by the death of my Husband, since which time a young Lord hath been an ear­nest suter to me; but my loue and fortune dying with my husband, or but li­uing to his memory, I refused him, as many other that haue sought me, wher­upon he vowed to haue me by force, since no other meanes would preuaile, and this day to performe his vow; he came, found me but slightly guarded, and newly out of my bed, tooke me out of my house, bound my seruants, and thus farre on the way hath brought me: but when I saw this thicke Wood, and being acquainted with the hidnest parts of it, I slipt from behind his ser­uant that carried mee, and with all speed possible ran (as I thinke you must needs see me) towards this wildernes, here I hope I am secure, and shall as­sure my selfe of it, if it might please you, to take me into your protection. He curteous beyond expression, promised to defend her. I pray Sir (said she) let me yet ask some things more of you, which are, what your name is, and how long you haue been in this Country? My name (said he) is Amphilanthus, my being here, hath bin some time, being brought hither by the Princesse Syde­lia. Let me be so bold, I beseech you, to demand one fauour more, which is, Whether you were one of those two that came with her, to reuenge he [...] quarrell? I am indeed (said hee), and the same who fought with Terichillus. [Page 238] Then am I blessed, said she, for I may assure my selfe of the valiantest man aliue.

While they were thus discoursing, an other Lady, with as fearfull cries, & shricks passed by, running from the Wood-ward, with such haste, as her feare had made her so light, as shee left no print, so much as pressing the grasse whereon she ranne, the impression it seem'd being in her, and no weight but switnesse allowed her feet. Ollorandus followed her, shee fledd still, till shee had lead him a good distance from his freind. Oh Ollorandus, what misfor­tune now befalleth thee? What Witchcraft made thee forget thy vowe, and Melissea's command? Thy friend was carefuller of thee, and with more constancy accomplish'd thy desire, how hast thou abandon'd him in greatest neede? For he sitting by the Lady, as she had done speaking, out of the deepe part of the Quarry came many armed men, and all set vpon the King. He thinking they had beene her enemies, defended himselfe, and willed her to take heede, take that counsell thy selfe, cride shee, thou hate­full murderer of my Husband, and dye for killing Terichillus. Then he found he was betrai'd, wherefore taking the best courage he could, (and that was the best of the world) he resolutely withstood their fury; but at last their company still increasing, and his wounds, and weakenesse growing with them, the place besides ill to fight in, being vneuen, full of bushes, and all disaduantages that might be to him, he was brought into infinite danger, and so much, as giuing himselfe lost, he recommended his last loue, and best wi­shes to his deere selfe, and so resolu'd, brauely meant to end.

But what did Ollorandus all this while? He was held with discourse by a like deceiuer, as his friend had mett, till he heard the noyse of the Dwarfes, who calld him to that place with fearefull, and lamentable cries; where he found Amphilanthus, now ready to fall among the bodies of those he had slaine, as if he had kild them, to lye the hansommer on their bodies, in that ill fauored place, and to haue an easier bed in death. When he saw this sadd sight, how did he curse himselfe? Then remembred he what he had been warn'd to doe, then sawe he the fault committed in beleefe, and their trea­cherie; all these togeather made such a full consent of fury, as hee flew a­mongst them with blowes, like shame for villany, heauy, and thicke, and such good did he, as what with his valour, and the new courage his pre­sence brought Amphilanthus, his weake lin [...]s, they gaue a little respite to him, who sate downe within the clift of the Quarry; but then an other mischiefe followed, for that diuellish causer of all this, beholding him, and hauing the power as she thought to hurt him, shee rolled a stone (which was loose, of great weight, and bignesse, staying but vpon the edge of a clift) downe vp­on him, which gaue him (though falling not directly, vpon him, but a little part vpon his shoulder) such a cruell stroak, especially to his weakenesse; as he fell with it on his face. Ollorandus seeing it, verily thought hee had beene dead, whereupon he cried out; damn'd Countrey, that must be the death of that, which all the world enuied Italy for, the blessing of nursing braue Am­philanthus, farewell, and farewell all worth with thee. Then did his fury encrease, and to that height, as but two being left of all the number, the Ne­apolitan Prince hauing brought them from many, to almost none, yet fewe; too many then for him sore wounded, he dispatched the rest, one onely sur­uiuing [Page 239] who much molested him, & soarely handled him, going as he thought to take vp that vnmatched King, he saw him stirre, and rise: With greater ioy he then ranne to him, who embraced him, and welcomd him as the sauer of his life; but the other craued pardon of him euen vpon his knees, acknow­ledging his vnpardonable fault. Amphilanthus quickly forgaue him, and seeing the one suruiuing man againe, set on them, finish'd that noble dayes worke, and kill'd him with his owne hand.

Then did Ollorandus looke about, and with wonder admire that exploit, wondring that such a multitude set vpon the King, and that his strength and courage had withstood, and ouerthrowne so many; this indeed being one of the greatest victories, and without comparison, the most hazardous and dangerous that euer he fell into. As they were thus beholding the slaughter and thinking how to goe thence to cure their wounds, they heard one speake these words; Accursed fortune, that still hath crost my desires, now will I not be more crossed in this wicked world; farewell cruell men, all mischiefs attend you both, and curst be your best wishes. With that shee threw her selfe from the topp of that huge Quarry, into the place where Amphi­lanthus sate, when she (for this was the Princesse) threwe the stone vpon him, and against the same stone, stid she breake her necke. Then did they striue to bring some of them that lay on the ground to life, if but to tell the plot, but in vaine for they were all dead, yet for their better fortuue, the same woman who had lead Ollorandus away, they saw againe, wherefore he ridd vnto her, and not purposing to be any more abused by her, brought her to Amphilanthus, then did she confesse all the villany, but yet not till she saw her Lady dead; the Treason was when the Princesse saw her Hus­band dead, kild by Amphilanthus, she one of the wickedest liuing, set some to enquire what course these Knights would take, and so gaining notice that they were to goe into Hungary, shee appointed one of her seruants, (a fit creature for such a mistresse) to offer his seruice to them. They not knowing the way, were very glad of such a conueniency, and so enter­tain'd him, who brought them to this place, where they mett this terrible encounter, the Princesse her selfe contented to act a part, for the getting of her deuillish purpose, and as a perfect actor did performe the last act best of her Tragedy. Then did she warne them of passing on that way, for (said shee) an other ambush is layd for you, but if you will credit me, though (I confesse) I may be ashamed to expect it, hauing beene already one that de­ceiud you, yet as I haue any faith, I tell you now but truth, and will aduise you to the best, goe not this plaine way, for by yonder Abbey, is as dange­rous a troupe layd for you, but crosse this Hill, which though rough and vn­easie, yet is the way secure and safe. They thanked her, and for her punish­ment onely appointed her to goe to the new Princesse, and to her discourse all this businesse, and then if shee could turne good from so much ill, as she had been bred in, they [...] should be glad, and so they parted; the false and treacherous Princesse hauing no other Tombe then the Quarrey, nor rights but her owne actions, nor monument but the carkasse of her wicked ser­uants.

The Knights following the Gentlewomans directions, passed with much difficulty the hill, and craggy rocks, getting on the other side, which was a [Page 240] fine and pleasant Country, to a graue Knights house, where they continued, till they were cured of their wounds. The Gentlewoman performing their command, arriued at the Court, where she related the whole treason, danger and successe of it, telling withall, how that was the onely punishment allotted her.

The kind Sedelia grieued in her soule for this mischance, yet was comfor­ted when she was assured of their safeties; then sent shee some to visit them, but they could not meet them, though they found the noble memories of them in the slaughter, but heard by a Pastor that they were wel, & gon from the old Knights house perfectly whole, and recouerd. At their returne, the Princesse reioyced, and in rememberance of Amphilanthus, and his friend, set vp a piller in that place, of excellent richnesse, and bignes, in which was curiously engrauen that famous victory: the Abby being daintely seated, & hauing al delights of pleasure, either solitary or otherwise, she built anew, & much more glorious then before, wherin she made the tombe for Antonarus, laying his body there, leauing a place for her selfe, and as soone as her Son came to yeares, fit for gouernment, she put the whole rule into his hands, retyring her selfe to this place, where with loyall loue, and sincere faith, she ended her dayes, beeing after buried with him, from whom liuing, shee would not be parted, nor dead, seuered.

The noble companions beeing recouered, tooke leaue of their kinde host, who would not be contented, till Amphilanthus entertained his onely Son for his Squire, which he did, and so they pass'd towards Hungary; ryding by a faire and pleasant riuers side, which Ollorandus knew, and welcomd each drop which passed by him, knowing, the place where his Mistris most com­monly liued at, was seated on this streame, his thoughts were busied on her, and Amphilanthus as passionately contemplated his loue: thus they rid to­gether, yet their thoughts so farre asunder, as might haue made them stran­gers. As thus they passed among some Osiers, which grew by the side of that Riuer, some of them within it, or the water in loue with their rootes, chastly embraced them, making pretty fine ponds betweene each other, the armes, and bodyes of the trees, lying so kindly to each other, as with much ease, and fine coolenesse, one might passe from one to the other. A dainty Maide among the trees, had taken vp her abiding, hauing made a kind of bed among them, vpon their boughs, which twind within one ano­thers armes made the lodging secure. She had an Angle in her hand, and lay as if fishing, but her mind plac'd on a higher pleasure; she little regarded the byting of the fish, beeing her selfe deceiued with a cunninger baite, the hooke of loue hauing caught her so fast, as nothing could release her, and as she sate, she would make pretty, and neate comparisons, betweene her be­traying the poore silly fish, and her owne being betrayed by the craft of loue, which some times she commended; and yet againe would condemne. At this time she was in a reasonable good conceit of loue, & fauorable enough to him, as appeard by this song she sung, the voyce beeing the cause of their seeking any body in that place.

The Song ended, they went towards her, desiring to discourse with her, she curteous and excellently witty, gaue them entertainement, her apparrell was such, as said for her, she was of the best sort of women: her Gowne was of greene Satten, with long sleeues to the ground; they, and her gowne but­toned to the bottom, with buttons of Diamonds, so were her wearing sleeues; but by reason the weather was warme, they were left open in spaces, through which her cut worke Smock appeared, and here and there; her delicate skin was seene; shee held her angle as neglectiuely, as loue the ill causer of her paine held her, when the poore little fish did plaie with the baite, or offer to swallow it, too big for them, yet made the corke stirre: so (would she say) doth Loue with me, play with me, shew mee pleasures, but lets me enioy no­thing but the touch of them, and the smart of the hooke that hurts me with­out gaine, and only giues as light a good to me, as the hope this floting corck did giue me of the fishes prison. But these imaginations were laid aside by the two Princes comming, to whom she presently rose vp, and with fit and excellent respect she saluted them, throwing downe het rod, wherewith she had thretned, but executed little hurt, & passing ouer her transparant bridge, went vnto them, whom she vsed according to their merits, when shee vnder­stood who they were, conducting thē along that riuer to a most curious gar­den, and so into another, and then into as rare a place for building, as they in all their trauels had euerseene, being a house of white Marble. Varietie of all delights were there, and shee desirous that they should enioy them, gi­uing all the free and noble welcome that could be afforded.

[Page 242]After they had been a while in the house, shee desired them to be pleased to vnarme themselues, which they did, being brought into a rich chamber, wherein there were two maruellous faire beds, they hauing before intreated to lodge together.

Then did she leaue them till supper time, comming then againe to attend them; but when she beheld them, she could not but extreamely admire the louelinesse of Amphilanthus, for no woman, were shee neuer so passionately in loue with any, but confessed him fittest to bee beloued, though such were his worth, as few had the honour of his affection, and most of them grateful­nesse woed more for, then his owne choice. Thus they went together to the roome where they were to eate, the King of Bohemia vsing all respect vnto the Lady, who he thought did much resemble his Mistris: but as a true louer thought shee came farre short of her perfections. At supper there were ma­ny Knights more that came to visit this Lady, she being much honoured, and beloued of all: her husband was likewise there, but such a man to bee her mate, as if hee were made for a punishment to her, for being so excellently perfect aboue the common rate of her sexe, her fashion such, as no stranger could but commend to be full of modesty, and iudgement towards him; but as it was discreet and obseruing, so was it to be discernd distant enough from affection, yet as farre from neglect as fondnesse, his likewise to her, as if shee gouernd both parts of loue. He entertaind these Princes with much kindnes keeping them company, and shewing them al the rare delights he had about his house, which were many: but the greatest rarenesse they saw, was the Lady, who so much Amphilanthus marked, as he discouerd her to be one of their fellow prisoners in the Castle of loue; wherefore desirous to heare that discourse, especially louing to heare loue desc [...]ibed, and related by a woman, out of whose lipps those sweet passions more sweetely proceeded, hee gaue occasion for it, as they walked along a dainty pleasant brooke, the bankes whereof were of such sweetnesse, as the plenty of the most delicate smelling flowers could yeeld vnto them, being shadowed from the Sunnes parching by Mirtle, and that Mirtle preserued by high, and braue trees, whose breadth and large boughs spread to giue content to those, who vnder them would submit to solitarinesse. This place (said Amphilanthus) were fitter much for louers, then such free Princes as liue here. Is there any free from that passi­on my Lord, said she? Only such (said hee) as you are, whose sence of loue doth rather from you command harts to your seruice, then presume to bring you into the fetters, being rather his commandres, then subiect. An vntoward gouernment (answered she) assuredly I haue yet had, I neuer hauing enioyed quiet minut, since I knew this state, but that rebellious passions haue euer tor­mented me. Can that be, cry'd Amphilanthus?? I am sensible of them, said she. Alas, said Amphilanthus, that I might be so fortunat to merit so great a happi­nes, as to vnderstād the way, that bold loue takes to cōquer such perfection.

That may soone be gaind (said shee) for requite me with your story, and I will truly discourse my fortunes to you. Neuer let mee bee rewarded for my paine (said hee) if I refuse this noble offer. Begin you Sir (said shee). I will obay in that also (said he): and then did he tell her the whole story of his affection, onely keeping her name secret, because Ollorandus knew her, and had mistrust of it, but no assurance; after which she began thus.

[Page 243]My Lord, so ill it seemes loue hath carried himselfe, as it is a kind of fault in a woman to confesse any such matter; yet I knowing my selfe innocent of ill, and now ingaged by your freedome to make a requitall, I will venture to speak of this Lord, Loue. My father had a sister married to one of the noblest and greatest Princes of this Countrie, as rich in possessions as any, yet posses­sed he not so much treasures, as hee did vertues, being richer in them, then any other of this land, true noblenesse and noble hospitalitie abounding in him. He had to inherit his estate, two Sonnes and one Daughter, children fit for such a father, truly and lawfully being heires to both his estates of riches, and vertuous qualities.

Many yeares this good Lord liued, but age claiming the due belonging to time, and a sore disease taking him, hee dyed, leauing his honours, vertues and chiefe estate to his eldest sonne, called Laurimello, who had been much in my fathers house, his father putting that trust in his brother in Law, as to leaue his dearest part of comfort with him: besides, my Fathers estate lay neare to the Citie of Buda, which was a conueniency, by reason of the Courts lying there, for his seeing, and frequenting that: by reason whereof, after his fathers death he brought his sister likewise thither, betweene whom and my selfe, there grew an entire friendship. She being great, and her brother beloued, and honoured aboue any other Prince, many sought her for wife: but shee knowing her perfections and greatnesse, was nice in accepting any, nor indeed had shee much mind to marry, louing her liberty more then ma­riages bondage.

Among others that offered their seruice to her, there was one called Cha­rimellus, who by his friends and parents, was sent to sue for her fauour; thi­ther hee came; but I comming with her into the roome where her suiter was, and her brother, with many more, hee cast his eyes on mee, which brought him that misfortune, as to bee so suddenly surprised, as he knew not scarce how to salute her, which made her scorne him, laughing at his bashful­nesse, which caused so much blushing and trembling in him. I regarded not his traunces, beginning so much as to thinke from whence it proceeded, but out of good nature was sorry for the man, who in troth deserued much pi­tie, and merited great respect: but my heart elsewhere placed, held mine eies in their set way, not marking any thing but mine own fortunes, no more then one starre troubles it selfe with anothers course: but my cosin, who would not keepe her thoughts from imparting them to her friends liberally vsed her wit on him, whose part I tooke, ignorant of the cause I had, till some dayes being passed, in which she gaue him refusall; he discouered his loue to me, and withall, protesting how he was surprised at my first sight. I told him, I could not belieue one fight on such an instant could worke such an altera­tion; nor if it were true, that I would so soone accept of a refused suiter, since my fortunes I trusted would not be such, as to bind me to take my cosins lea­uings.

This answer grieu'd him, yet did it no way allay his affection, but rather like snow, which plaid with all, doth make ones hands burne: so did the cold de­spaire of my words make his hart hot, & glow in loue towards me, my friends liked and lou'd him, he being of a sweet and mild disposition, valiant, and accompanied with many braue, and noble conditions; and such a one, as [Page 244] none, I thinke, could haue disliked, that had been ordaind to marry with iudgement onely, or had not their heart before settled as mine was. Long he pursued his loue, at last he gained my fathers consent, my mothers, and most of my friends, the estate, and antiquitie of his house, besides his person, me­riting any subiect for wife. When I saw this, and the danger I was in to bee bestowed; I then wholly employd my time, in studying how I might gaine mine owne desires, and finely put this off. While this was in my mind, a third businesse came in, which was another match offerd my father for me, whose estate was greater, and neerer to our dwelling: to which my father (being more then ordinarily affectionate to me) quickly harkned, and willingly em­braced. Then was I in more danger then before, my heart so perplexed, as I knew not what I did. Poore Charimellus came vnto me, wept to me, presen­ted his affection to my memory and eies: I pittied him, and truly had as much compassion vpon him, as I, or any other (whose soule was in anothers keeping) could haue of him; and so much fauour I did grant him, as to pro­mise to speake with my Father, and directly to refuse the new proffered match.

This contented him, hoping my refusall had been onely for his good: I performed my promise, and spake with my father, telling him, how much he was afflicted, how passionately he loued me, what reasons I had rather to accept of him then any other, how the world had taken such notice alreadie of his two yeares suite, as it would be a disgrace to him, and a touch to me, to take this new one; nor did I find that I could affect him, therefore I besought him to graunt me that blessing, that I might not be thus yeelded to euery great match, but that the businesse might be carried more to my honour and content. My father I confesse was vext with these words; yet being as kind as any man, he moderated his furie something, more then I might expect, bringing forth at last these words. The confidence I haue had in you, I hope may still continue in that strength, since I cannot thinke, you dare for good­nesse sake commit so great a fault, as to deceiue, especially your father; ther­fore I doubt not, but your freedome is as euer sure; yet I must needs say, the suite of Charimellus continued thus long, hath giuen occasion of discourse, I dislike not your care of that, nor be you afraid more, then reason wills of the worlds reports, which are like the discharging of pieces of Ordinance, where fire, smoke, and noise, are the companions, but one bullet hurts but in one place, and often times misses: so may harme by loud talking people misse hurting you, although the bruite flie; yet doe I not condemne, but prise your care, honour being as necessary to a womans happy life, as good Lungs to a healthfull body: but yet I trust you are not ingaged by promise. I assured him I was not, though I could not deny, but my affection was setled. My fa­ther imagined hee knew the place, thereupon proceeded in the former match; then was I to worke my end, hauing no meanes, saue mine owne in­dustrie, and strength of mind busied like a Spider, which being to crosse from one beame to another, must worke by-waies, and goe farre about, making more webs to catch her selfe into her owne purpose, then if she were to goe an ordinary straight course: and so did I, out of my wit weaue a web to de­ceiue all, but mine owne desires.

The last plot I had, was to make Charimellus intreate my Cosin, to bee his [Page 245] meanes to me for him, which he (good man) fulfilled; the discreet and braue Laurimello speaking to me as earnestly, and affectionately, as if for himselfe: I receiued his words, and accepted his counsell, as a patient doth the aduise of his Phisition: and so wrought it in me, for he was able to cure me [...] and only he, yet not weighing what, and whereto my answers were directed, hee let them passe, my accounted seruant remaining secure, as it was imagined in my opinion and loue, but contrary it proued; for soone after he seeking to haue assurance from me of my grant to be his wife, I refused it, telling him I had priuately vowed vnto my selfe, neuer to be betrothed, nor assured, vntill the time I married. He was troubled with my refusall, yet so ciuilly I vsed him, as he was reasonably contented there withall; neuer were Bees so busie in a Swarme, as my thoughts were how to set my mind, and ends aright [...] some­times I resolu'd to speake, but bashfulnes with-held mee, casting before mine eyes the staine, that iustly might be laid on me, a maid, and of so tender yeeres to wooe a man: then how often I had heard him say, that hee hated forward woman, and could loue none but such an one, who he must win by suite and loue, and who would loue him so, as though most earnestly, yet pretily to make him thinke, neglect did gouerne her, which would be like Cordials to his heart, or a diet to increase the stomack of his loue. These hindred me, and I continued like a branch placed to the wall of faithfull affection, while the blasts of desire did moue the leaues to speake, or shew so much, as might be called loue. While these doubts rul'd, Charimellus fell sicke, being then many miles distant from me. for his estate lay in Austria. I hearing of it, sent to visit him, but so late, as my messenger could onely deliuer, as to his last senses my message, and he for his last words returne me thanks, and so he died, sending me a token, which he tooke from about his arme; with that, and the newes, my seruant came, in troth I was sorry for him, and found that I could weepe for him, and did so too; yet was there no roome left for any, but my first chose loue to inhabit. After his death, the second came againe, and with his friends, and all apparent meanes, did set his rest to win me; but I freed, meant so to hold my self, nor could there be lest color for thē so soone to moue me; hope began then to flatter me, & I saw (or that deceitful thing did see for me) that no bar now did lie between my ioies, & the obtaining, saue a little nice, & childish modesty, which would a vertue proue in shewing modest loue. But so long did I feed my selfe with baby fancy, till the truth was lost, for he not once imagining my end, married another Lady, rich, and therefore worthy.

This misfortune past repaire, and falne on mee, I priuately lamented, moan'd my state, grieu'd and still quarrel'd with my self, and then when all was lost, and hope of ioy quite dead, I yeelded to my second suiters mind, with the consent of all my friends, and publique feasts, I marryed him, with whom I now (thanked be Heauen) happily haue liu'd these many yeares. But doe you not some times said Amphilanthus, see your best chosen friend? Oft times said she, and in that am I bless'd, for heere wee haue all pleasures we can wish, content, and loue, and happines in that.

No happinesse can bee compar'd to that, said Ollorandus, where loue meets, and mutually is blessed with one, and the selfe kinde. But how doth the good-man like of this? so wel said she, as if he made the choyce, being se­cure in my chastity, yet this I needs must say, I liu'd an ill, & froward life with [Page 246] him, for some two yeares, while ignorance held me, and willfulnes liued in him; but when wee came to know, or better, to bee cleane deceiued, wee grew good friends, and like kinde mates, haue liued these last three yeares. Humors hee had of iealosie, which I could not blame him for, my fashion beeing free, and such as hauing still beene bred in Court, I carryed with me, but since he discerned, that more innocency lyes vnder a fayre Canope, then in a close chest, which lock't, the inward part may be what it will. Hee ac­cused himselfe, and is now growne so free, as I doe rather doubt my selfe then him, and in truth I needs must say, I am so much a seruant vnto loue, as I discouer more in outward shew, then graue discretion can permit me with, yet alwayes haue I, and still will rule my affection by vertue.

By this they were arriued at the wall of the garden, hauing still followed that pleasant brooke, which was an arme of the large and braue Danubia; being enter'd the Garden, they met her Husband, and with him the sweete enioyer of her free giuen ioyes, none neede to tell the Princes who hee was, for who but hee could hold her eyes so fast? so eagerly did they behold each other, as if they fear'd one part of sight had fail'd to make a full conclu­sion of their blisse, or as if they through them would looke into their hearts, to see the setled dwelling of each others faith: there was affection discouered at the height, and as true loue would wish, freely giuen and taken. Most blessed paire said Amphilanthus, sighing in him selfe; alas, may I not liue to see such good? may not my deere behold me with such lookes, such smiles, such louing blushes? may not her vertue freely grant this to me? yes I haue seene such, but accu [...]sed man must not enioy, but what curst Desteny wil al­low my wants.

Then made he some excellent verses, the subiect being desire, and absence, and so much was he transported, as he stood not like a beholder, but as an Actor of loues parts: Ollorandus talking this time with the husband, retur­ning all into the house, Amphilanthus passing in his accustomed manner, the braue Laurimello leading his beloued Lady by the hand, after supper they walked abroad againe, and so till bed time, pass'd those houres in pleasant sweete discourse, the Lady making her owne words true, for neuer did any woman make such free, yet modest shew of loue as she did, yet exprest with such fine iudgement, & sweet chastity, as that loue, was in her deem'd a ver­tue, and his wanton faults commended by the witt, and dainty manner of her earnest loue. The next day the two Princes tooke there leaues, and so for Buda tooke their iourney, Ollorandus contenting himselfe, with the hop'd for ioyes he should receiue in the conuersation of Melisinda, and Amphi­lanthus thinking how to returne vnto his deerer selfe, blaming, and condemn­ing himselfe, for being so long absent, and accusing fortune for such cru­elty, as not onely to make him loose the comfort others had, but also to make him witnesse of their gaine, & by that to behold his perpetuall harme, and vnbearable want. To Buda at last they came, where they were enter­tained. Amphilanthus as his merit, and dignity required; Ollarandus with such affection, as all the schoole of loue, could instruct Melysinda with: Rodo­lindus with triumph, and feast, giuing them testimony of their welcome. Many dayes the feasts continued, and still increased the banquet of loue, be­tweene the King and his Mistris, when Amphilanthus was intreated to shew [Page 247] is skill in armes, which he did in a iust, wherein he encountered the King [...]dolindus then vnknowne for the manifesting of his vallour, would disgui­ [...]d meete the incomparable Prince, who not vnderstanding any reason why [...] spare him, but to adde to his honor, gaue him such vnkind greetings, that [...]though hee were as valiant, and strong as any in Hungary, yet at the fift [...]urse, he was throwne to the ground much brused: which hurt he neuer [...]ecouer'd, but within some few months after deceased, leauing his delicate [...]ife, as pefect and excellent a widdow.

These iusts being done, Amphilanthus desired liberty of Ollorandus to re­ [...]rne, who, though infinitely grieu'd to yeeld vnto it, yet iudging by him­ [...]elfe the causes that mou'd him, he consented, telling him he would also ac­ [...]ompany him, but by no means would he consent to that, no more louing [...] part, then to be parted from his loue. Alone he resolu'd to goe, but for [...]is dwarfe, who attended him, sending his new Squire vnto his Mistris, to [...]duertise her of his safty, and of his speedy repayring to her. The first dayes [...]ourney, the Queene, with the two Kings accompanied him, then parting, Amphilanthus tooke towards Stiria, and so, that way to goe into Italy, in [...]hich Country, hee mette a very fine, and strange encounter, in a delicate [...]adow, (being newly entered Stiria) there was a fountaine, about [...]hich were many Ladyes sitting, all apparrel'd after that Country manner, [...]ut in one colour, which was willow colour, imbrodered with gold, neate­ [...]y, but not extraordinarily rich; they were, (as hee perceiued being neere [...]hem) some singing, some playing with the water, others discoursing one to [...]nother, all busied; and yet none busie, but in play. They hearing his horse, [...]ook'd vp, hee saluted them, and alighting came to them, with whom he had many pretty passages of witt; at last he disired to know who they were? they [...]nswer'd seruants, as their liuery might testifie, and Ladyes of honor to the Princesse of Stiria, who was absolute Lady of that Country, being subiect to none, and yet not free. Where is that Princesse said Amphilanthus? not farr hence, answered one of them, being walked into yonder wood, where she is the sadest, and most discontented of any Princes liuing. May the cause be knowne said he? To such an one as will offer his helpe, said the first of them. I will doe my best said he, else shall I forsweare armes, when I am so vnwor­thy a man, as not to serue braue Ladyes. Then Sir, answered she, I will tell you the matter as well as I can, but not so passionately, as my Lady her selfe would doe, if she were to relate it. Emilina (for so is the Princesse cal'd) hauing beene sought of most of these Princes, which are neighbours to this Country, and many more neighbours to loue, refus'd them all, some of them so louing, as loue might haue pleaded, and won for them, others haue con­quer'd by their valour, some haue gaind pitty by their afflicted passions, but all were as one thing, a louer reiected: she hauing wholy resolu'd within her selfe, to giue her possessions, her heart, and all to the renowned Prince of Naples, and lately King of the Romans, Amphilanthus, whose fame had won more in her, though in person then to her neuer seene, then all they with their continuall petition. At last this Prince came, whose name had so so­uereignis'd, as she stood not to behold, or examine what causes might in him mooue her affection, but as Amphilanthus she lou'd him. He subtill aboue all men, and as any, faulse, flatter'd her, and so much wrought with her, as [Page 248] he gain'd what he desir'd, and what he most esteem'd: for had she giuen him les, she had, as she beleeued, wronged her feruent loue: hee seem'd as passi­onate as she, and surely was so, but vnconstant creature, he did change, and so will all you doe.

While he lou'd, none loued more earnestly, more fondly, none more carefully, but how can loyalty be where varyety pleaseth? scarse cold hee indure any to looke vpon her, much lesse, suffer or permit her to vse any but himselfe familiarly; which hee need not finde fault withall, for so did shee loue, as she neuer look'd on other, with the eyes of more then ciuill curtesie. Some while this continued, the marryage was expected, hee gaind her pro­mise, to haue onely him; she neuer doubting, prest not for his vowes, more crediting his word, which she assured her loue of, then seeking by desire of stricter vowes, to make him thinke she did mistrust, least action of his, gaue her steddy trust, and so shee trusted, till shee was deceiued, for after hee had gain'd her firmest loue, and so by vowes obtained what he sought, most vild­ly he beganne to change, and fell inamour'd of a Princes maide, who being neere allied vnto my Lady, often came to visite her at Court; this Gentle­woman truly was most faire, and I thinke good till then, if not then too; we sawe it, and were vex'd with it, yet knowing that no curster cor'siue can bee to a louer, then to be dispised, especially by him that once did loue; at last she found it, (miserable knowledge,) how then was she grieued? if I should offer to discouer, I must say I am a louer, and forsaken to, otherwise can none, or ought any to presume to tell a farlorne creatur's woe. First, in silence she did beare her paine, and with attendance, and continuall kindnes, striue to win him back, or rather, that he might not thinke she did mistrust, she stroue to hold his loue, But that vngratefull man, (which name is more then her gentle affection will yet permitt her to giue him,) discerning her respect and loue, would seeme to see neither, yet faild he not in all outward shewes, to manifest his change. She writ vnto him, she wept before him, she complay­ned, she bewailed others that were forsaken; he heard, and not regarded, he answer'd but slighted, he ioyned in pittying them, but neglected her that most wanted; she lost her beauty with sorrow, with weeping whole nights, and sobbing, that I haue my selfe come in, vncalled but by those sorrowes to her, the greatnesse of her heart, though able in the day to couer them, yet was forced at night, to borrow assistance of breathing out what her spleene was ouer charg'd withall, and what, saue teares, sobs, and silence would shee trust for her associates? Forgetfull man that so abused her, who wrong'd her selfe alone in trusting him, nay wrong himselfe in such a base vnworthy change. I aduentured to aduise, when I saw all misery ouer take her; shee tooke my counsell, which was, to vrge the marriage. He slighted her, and told her she was growne old, and her beawty alter'd, willed her to recouer that, and when he return'd from a iourney that he had in hand, he would be as he was.

Alas, what torment was this to her, who was only his? she tooke it to the heart, though hee smilingly deliuered it, as if in iest, till all considered it aprooued true; then faign'd he an excuse, that the King his father sent for him, and that at his returne he would not misse to performe what hee had promised, so he found her as he expected. His leaue he tooke of her, which [Page 249] went as neere her heart, as marrow to the bones, yet staid he afterwards with the other wench som certaine daies. We vsed al meanes to hold her ignorant of that, and many more his passages: but what more cleare and perfect sigh­ted, then true loue? She knew all, and yet knew her faith so cleare to him, as she would blind her sight, rather then touch his truth. O faithles Amphi­lanthus, accursed man, that brought this hard insufferable wrong and harme vnto the faithfullest and the worthiest louer, that euer loue did wound. But to proceed, he went and left my Lady quite forsaken and forlorne, who since (vnhappy woman) liues in groanes, and daily sorrowings. But where now is the Prince, said Amphilanthus? Truly Sir (said she) where the falsest, ficklest, waueringst, and vnworthiest man doth liue, and there is hee, and else where know I not. No such vnworthinesse liues in that Prince, I know him well said he, and lately saw him, but I will not say 'tis the same you speake of, for it may be, some such creature hath abused his name, and for these ends giuen out to be the man. Know you the Prince then, said she? if you doe, hee is a faire false man, a treacherous well shap'd man, not tall, though high in mis­chieuous ill nature, slender, but full in wickednes, curld haire, and thicke; yet bauld in vertue, and this is Amphilanthus, as he cald himselfe. The Prince knew straight it was another man she meant, yet grieued to heare his name so much abused, and that a Princesse should beare wrong for him. This, besides his owne interest in the matter, made him vow reuenge, wherefore hee desi­red to see the Princesse, the first Lady told him, that if hee would attend her comming forth of the Wood, hee should be admitted to her sight, he would not further vrge, and so with them sat downe, while one of them sung this Song, telling him it was made by her Lady, who was as perfect in all noble qualities, as subiect to loue, and so to bee for too much faith de­ceiued.

Did Emilina (said the Prince) write this, sure Amphilanthus could neuer be false to such a creature. He was, and is (said she), and truly doth hee make good his name, that signifieth the louer of two. That name (said he) was gi­uen him, e're he knew what loue was, or himselfe. The latter sure he knowes not yet, said shee. You will I doubt not shortly haue a better opinion of this Prince. Neither of him, nor those that be his companions, said she, vnlesse I grow so vnfortunate, as to be a louer of all variety, and so for that, I may like changing men, or delight in Camelions. With this the Princesse came, a Lady not of highest stature, nor low; so hansome, as one well might see, there had bin excellent beauty, but decay'd, as loue was withered to her, who now re­sembled the ruines of a faire building; her countenance graue, but curteous, shewing rather retirednes, then much giuen to conuersation; her pace, slow, and her apparrell careles: her clothes were of Tawny, cut with Willow co­lor, and embroidered with Willow garlands of that color, and gold to shew the forsaken part was noble. She came towards them, and with a modest ge­sture saluted the Prince, who with his helmet off, presented the true Amphi­lanthus to her eyes; she desired to know of whence he was, and what aduen­ture brought him thither. He told her, he was of Italy, and that his blessed fortune had brought him, where he might repaire an iniury done to a wron­ged Prince, and serue her in the busines. Alas, said she, what seruice can I haue in that, since none liues wrongd so much as I? nor can one of that countrie, [Page 251] or all that Nation, right the iniurie receiued by one, and yet deare one [...]o me. That one that wronged you (answered he) shall right you, or my life shall pay for it; tell me where you thinke he is. If I did know (said she) and with all vnderstood a danger to him by reuealing him, for all the ha [...]me I haue receiued, I would conceale him, and thus haplesse liue, rather then be a meanes to harme his person, which still I hold deare. How happy is that Prince (said he) [...] and yet vnfortunate to be so iniured, as to be defamed by a suborner, and a traiterous man, falsely assuming thus a Princes name. Wrong him not with that taxe (said she), for sure I could not loue a meaner man, not any but that Prince, and so the brauest Amphilanthus. But you it seemes, haue heard of his light loue, his change and falshood. Alas heare, with that; what man, nay, euen your selfe hath lou'd and neuer changed? may not then Amphilanthus doe the like? What a perplexitie this was to him, iudge brauest louers: but she did proceed; What shame then is it to him? and to whom can harme insue, saue to vs wretched trusting women. Madam (said hee) I seeke to cleare the Prince, and to let you discerne the wrong he beares, that one so base and so persidious, hath taken his name on him. She was speaking, when a Knight, who newly there arriu'd, kneeled to him, telling him he was most glad to find him so neare home, but sorry for the newes hee brought, which was, he must repaire with all the speede hee could into his Country, for otherwise he could not enioy the blessing of his aged fathers sight, who then was ready to yeeld vnto death; withall hee gaue him letters from the Lords, and from his brother. While hee thus discoursed, the Prince tooke them, and then the Lady askt of the stranger, who this Prince was, to whom he had vsed such reuerence. He answered; Amphilanthus of Naples, Prince, and now he thought, the King. She then turning to him; My Lord (said she) I must needes blame your name, that hath brought me my discontent, yet ho­nor your person, though the loue to that, was the sweet betrayer of my blisse. Then did she freely confesse, what the Lady before had related, which being heard by the young Prince of Venice (for it was he that came vnto him with the newes), he assured Amphilanthus, that hee had met the Knight, and by him had been ouerthrowne; so as truly Sir (said he) he is valiant, and as strong as a man need bee, to maintaine so bold a charge, as to counterfeit your strength; he hath also now got a companion, who calls himselfe Ollorandus; and thus they passe, your fame makes few, except strangers, meddle with them. But I seeing his face, and with that his falshood, ventured to fight with him, hauing iustice on my [...]ide, which I hoped would bring me victory; but I see, that a good arme must hold the ballance, else sometimes truth may fal (as I did) to the ground. Amphilanthus confident of the truth of the deceit, took his leaue of the Lady, who earnestly desired his presence to her house, but he taking the occasion of the Venetians comming, would excuse himselfe, and keepe him free from temptations, till hee saw the perfect commandresse of his dearest loue. The Lady was troubled, yet at last, like other crosses, shee did beare with that, but in the night she thus lamented. Wretched woman, aboue all accursed, must my affection first be placed on worth, & that worths name abuse me and my trust? which were I better hope of, that I was betraid and cousned by a false and treacherous man, then by the Prince? No sure I was deceiued, for none but he that did betray me, spake of him; here one cals [Page 252] him away vnto his country. O I was deceiu'd, and am, and shall be, haplesse Emilina, borne to ill, nursed to misfortune, and must die by change. Alas Am­philanthus, I did loue thee most, best, and my youngest loue, and most innocent was giuen to thee. I knew not loue, when I did find, that I loued thee; my heart was thine, before I knew it was mine owne to giue: thou tookest it, I thought did prize it too; thou calledst it thine, thine owne be [...]t heart, didst cherish it, and kindly made of it; said, I did arme the God of loue himselfe, gi­uing him sight and power; and when in Verse I once did waile a little ab­sence, which I was to suffer by thy going for one weeke from mee, in that small space thou didst repay my lines, calling me sweet more kind; & telling me, if I did harme mine eyes, I should disarme loue, and vndoe the throne of him and his; and yet all this is falfe, and thou (O thou) vntrue. Deceiued I am; yet why didst thou plot for my ruine? If to gaine by me, why didst thou not make all the Country thine, as well as me? No, I doe see thy conquest was but me, and I was only for a prey to [...]atisfie thy will; variety of loues, not faire possessions, are thy aimd at-games. Yet Amphilanthus true or false, I must still loue thee best, and though thou wrong me, I must loue thee still. What torments haue I alas for thee indurd? How haue I searched my heart, and found thy Image, as if lim'd in each small corner of it; but all ioyn'd in that seruice, made it round, and yours, yet are you false; O me that I must liue and say, Amphilanthus is proued false, and vnto me; yet this braue Stranger saies, hee is abused; well, bee it so, I loued him as that Prince, and so my crosses came.

Is it not possible, O cruel man, Prince, or whatsoeuer els, that thou wilt back returne? Come home againe, and be thy first sweete selfe, kind, louing; and if not a Prince, I'le make thee one; and rather would I wish thou wert not one, but with that title throw thy fault away, and bee a louer, iust and excel­lent; thou maist be so, for where doth lodge more abilitie of good, of valor, vertue, and all else, but constancy, which I wil pardon: come vnto me, I forget that euer I was left, that thou wert false, vnkind, and will remember onely our first ioyes, thinke all this other time was absence, or a dreame, which happines likely contrary to what appeares. O let this be so, my deare, and (only deare) I doe forgiue thee: I inuite thee, come accept my state, a gift laid at thy fee [...], my selfe thy vassall, these are worthy thanks, and these I will performe. Leaue those inticing beauties, and great wits, that snare-like catch, & hold for meere aduantage to them, and their ends; ticing thee by fine Brades of vowed locks, and plaited haire, a dainty shew; nor didst vse with me, my haire vnworthie of the honor to be worne by thee: thou thinkst I know not this; yes, and do grieue for it, yet will be silent to thee. I am a woman free, and freely offer, I not begge, but giue, and aske but loue for principality, and rule of me: many I know doe seeke thee, and thy gentle disposition (apt to bee deceiued, as I was when I loued) will be abused. Beware, cast those deare eyes that wonne my freedome on my faith and zeale, and then discouer what a difference there is betwixt feruent loue, whose ends are loue; & such, where only vse & gaine attends desier. But if thou wilt continue thus, be yet still safe, let their loues to thee, bee as firme as mine; let dangers flie from thee, safetie bee neere, and all ill shun thee, blessings prosper with thee, and bee thou blessed with them.

[Page 253]Then turnd she fighingly within her bed; al night she thus did passe those houres, with such distracted passions: and so full her mind was stor'd with memorie of him, as shee did call all actions into mind, and as new done, did liuely make presentment to her eyes, and so of all past happinesse shee knew. Then mixt she them with her new discontents, and so comparing them, make her poore selfe the stage, where ioy and sorrow acted diuers parts, her heart the sad sceane where the storie lay; oft did shee call him false, then loue inraged, made her recall that, and complaine of spite, conclu­ding still, I cannot yet but loue, though thus forsaken, and forelorne I liue.

Amphilanthus gone, he fell into discourse with the young Venetian, who related vnto him what he had heard of the counterfet Prince, then did hee proceed, how hee vnderstood, hee had taken his way by sea into Greece, and thence for Asia, and there no question (said he) the dainty Pamphilia will be; the kingdome he'le first visit, and good welcome surely (said Amphilan­thus) he'le find there.

Thus they rid on, the King contemplating his Mistrisse, beholding her as present, as if by; and the Venetian plotting how to gaine the louing Emelina to his wife, but that was difficulter to bee gaind, then their arriuall without more aduentures into Italy; so as being thither come, the King was met with many, who were going, some to seeke, and some from seeking him, were return'd.

At last he came to Naples, where he found his father sicke, and past recoue­ry, yet so much comforted to see his sonne, as life in the last power did ex­presse it both with face and smile: but that as ioyfull newes crost by the next vnlucky messenger, is as a greater crosse, then if at first time knowne: so did his death more heauily incounter the good hope his sonne did then re­ceiue.

He dead, the Lords and Commons all with one consent (and that consent accompanied with gladnesse in their good) receiued Amphilanthus for their King. A maruelous braue funerall was then prepared, within which time the Princes neere and farre, as fast as notice came, sent their Embassadors to condole and congratulate his happy beginning. The funerall once passed, straight followed the Coronation, where the Embassadours did assist of Mo­rea, France, great Brittany, Bohemia, Romania, and the sweet, and deli­cate Pamphilia; all being done, the Embassadours tooke their leaues, the King presenting them with presents rich, and fit for him to giue, and them to take: then the next businesse was, to settle all his estate in good or quiet gouernment, to which end he did appoint the Prince his bro­ther to be Regent, and setled such a graue and honest Counecll, as he was se­cure (though absent) of his Kingdomes good.

Then went hee with some forces hee had raised, which were in number twentie thousand Foote, and fiue thousand Horse to the place ap­pointed, to ship them for Epirus, directing them the time of putting forth, which way he resolued, the rest would passe into Albania: the Princes of Florence, Milan, Ferrara, Naples, Modina, Apulia, and many more officers of this Field in this braue army went: but he trusting the army with these com­manders, himselfe accompanied onely with the Prince of Venice, landed in [Page 254] Morea, from thence being able easily to meet his men, and time enough, for any seruice. Being landed, hee heard nothing but Drums, and Trum­pets, and such warlike musique, which well pleas'd his eares; much hast hee made, till he came to the Court, where he found great sadnes for an vnhap­py accident befalne Selarinus, which was this, going (as hee thought safe e­nough because disguis'd) into Epirus, the proud Queene of that Country, who had denyed passage for the Armie, got notice of him, and that notice gaue dainger of his life; for her Mother beeing Daughter to one of the Kings, or Lords of Albania, treachery, and falshood, hauing deuided it into fiue parts, he and the other Townes, had made a combination, neuer to suf­fer eyther to be harm'd, but contrariwise to harme any should molest the o­ther, and to seeke all meanes to ruine the two brothers, whose fame had, though with honor, vnluckely come to their eares, vertue in them, hauing brought the worlds companion, malice, with her.

This was not only agreed of among this wicked confederacy, but also taught as a necessary lesson to their Children; this Daughter, hauing mar­ryed her selfe to the like vow, else a maide, and faire, but proud, insolent, and as those creatures, are commonly ignorant enough. She first to giue oc­casion of offence, denyed passage for the Armies, hauing so much foolish pride about her, as she was blinded from knowledge, that th [...]se forces could passe with her losse of her Realme, if they pleased; but she, who saw but as through a prospectiue glasse, brought all things neerer or farther, as shee pleas'd to turne the ends to her sight: so she drew danger to her, and put as­surance with iudgment, and goodnes from her, laying waite through all her Country for either of those Knights, or any other who belonged to the vni­ted kings, that by chance, or hope of disguises, surely might offer to passe that way. It was Selarinus his mishape, first, and onely at that time to aduen­ture, and hauing rid two dayes iourney without let, or any kind of hazard, the third day, he vnfortunatly hapned into a house belonging to a Keeper, and standing in a great Forrest: this Keeper, had in his youth beene an Es­quire to an Epirian Knight, slaine at Mantinia, at a great iust there held, after whose death he return'd, and putting himselfe vnto the Queene, hee gain'd the keeping of this Forrest: this man fell into discourse, being crafty, and so fitt for so ill an imployment, as he was vsed in; by discourse hee gain'd know­ledge, that this was one, belonging either in place, or affection to the More­an Court; then hauing enough to worke vpon, as if he had eaten much poy­son, hee must breake, so brake he into the open way of destroying Selarinus; for sending his boy to the Court, which was then but ten miles off, by the next morning he had forty Knights to secure him, and conduct the Prince, trecherously made a prisoner, to the Queene, who mistrusting no Treason vnder greene clothes, nor falshood, where so faire language and welcome dwelt, at night being weary, vnarm'd himselfe, and went to bed, where hee slept, till hee was awaked with the paine, which hard cords cast about his armes brought him, he did after confesse he heard some noise, but thought it had only beene his Squire puting vp his Armour, or making it ready, and fitt against the morning; but when he saw how he was deceiu'd, and heard his poore seruant cry also out against them, he only with Princely patience said this; suffer imprisonment with mee, poore boy, said he, as well as thou [Page 255] hast enioyed freedome, and content, witnessing that Fidelius can serue Infor­tunius in all estates faithfully. By that the youth knew his Lord, would not be knowne by other name then Infortunius, wherefore hee resolu'd to dye, rather then betray him. Till morning hee was thus held, then deliuered to to the Knights, who straight carryed him to their Queene; shee hating all that had but seene Morea, or any of those Countryes belonging to them, she cal'd enemies, went into her Hall, and with all magnificent state sate to behold, & so to scorne the vnfortunate Knight, who was brought in chaind; the Queene sitting with a setled resolution, to manifest hate, scorne and con­tempt, but seeing his sweetnesse, and louelynesse, his tender youth, his mo­dest countenance, tryumphing as it were ouer his misery: with noble pati­ence, only shewing stoutnesse in bold suffering, and giuing way to Fortune, as subiect in that tyranny, yet inwardly his estate molested him, & shame to see those braue armes fetterd, and bound, brought some blood into his face, which though shewed vpon such occasion, yet it prouoked an other con­clusion, for he being naturally some what pale, this made his beauty appeare more delicate, as if of purpose to purchase his libertie; thus was hee forced to be beholding to that womanish part, to restore his manly power to liber­ty, that working for him, which his worth held least worthy in him, for the Queene (though most ambitiously, raised in conceit of her selfe) now found there was a greater Prince, and a higher authority, which might, and would command. She gazed on him, shee blam'd the small respect their rudnesse had shewed to a Knight, to bring him like a theife, chain'd, shee caused his bands to be taken off, and strictly corrected them, (who expected thanks) telling them the disarming had beene an honor, but their taking him naked was a shame vnto them, and to all braue spirits. Then called shee the Prince to her, desiring to know his name, and Country, kindly smiling on him, holding him by the hand, the softnesse, and fairenesse, of which she grieued should handle a sword, or be vsed in fights, fitter to bee held by her like-louing selfe; withall she assured him, his imprisonment should be no other then content, if he would but yeeld to her desires. Hee answered, his name was Infortunius, nephew to the Lord of Serigo, who was killed at the King of Morea's Court, in his presence and many more, hauing thither brought a faire Lady, whose loue he was to winn by fight, but he was slaine by Selarinus, younger brother to Steriamus, for whom the great preparations were now made to winn Albania. Are you of their party said she? Truely Madam said he, I wish good to all iust causes, otherwise, I being but one, am little able to asist any, therfore dare I not venture to say I am of any side, but I did intend to see the warrs. If you did but intend that, you may said she still continue that purpose, nor will I hinder you, yet I must enioyne you to some things for my sake. Hee answered her, his life was in her hands to command. Not but to saue, and cherish it, replied she: therefore goe with this Gentleman, who shall direct you, and conuey you to a chamber fitt for you; then did one of her cheife officers conduct him to a maruellous rich roome, which she had appointed him to carry him vnto, where hee had all things necessary, and braue, saue his armes, then did he leaue him there, and his owne Squire to attend him, with many more, whose respects, and officiousnesse was such, as mou'd trouble, and proued such liberty, a true [Page 256] imprisonment, yet at night he had freedome, for by the Queen's appoint­ment they were not to lye in his Chamber, but in an other roome, where for his safety, & no way to trouble him, they might conueniently remaine. Supper was serud vnto him, with all seruicable duty, infinite rich, and sump­tuous fare, glorious plate, and nothing wanting, that so proud a woman could to satisfie that humour, thinke of; to gloryfie her selfe, and obleige him. He fed, and after supper went to bed, the doores were shut, and hee layd downe to rest, but what quiet could he enioy? fearing all these faire be­ginnings would turne to his greater harme, for no end could he see, but dis­honour to him, as himselfe, and certaine danger, as Infortunius abuse; and what was most as Philistella's seruant, shame, and iust reproach if hee falsified her trust, or his affection. Tormented thus, he did remaine til towards mid­night, when a doore opened at his beds head, out of which came sixe La­dyes, each carrying two white wax candles, which they set downe vpon a cupbord, placed of purpose before the bed; then they returned, when the Queene, as rich and glorious as Iuno, came in, her mantle was Carnation sattine embroder'd with gold, and round pearle, fastned with a faire Ruby; her wastcoate of the most curious worke could bee made with needle, her petty coat suitable to her mantle, her head dressed with a dressing fram'd of the same worke with her wastcoate, through which, her haire was delicate­ly drawne in many places; daintely she was apparrel'd, able to winne any, but such a spirit as Selarinus: for neuer did curious carelesnesse better adorne creature, then it did this Queene, who with care sought to bee neglectiue in her apparrell; To the bed side she came, and sitting downe vpon it, so as the light might serue to shew her beauty, she thus spake.

Your name, and comming into my power, so nearely agreeing, canno [...] giue you other hope, then to follow them, who haue before runne into this danger of breaking my commands, which are not without death to be satis­fied, especially, if you, like those wilfull men, will not obey me: yet this fauor you haue to lead you to happinesse, that I neuer honourd any before with thus much kindnes, which in an other (if not so great a Queene) might be called loue. But I, that scorne subiection, cannot allow such a power, on­ly confesse my liking you, hath made me pitty you, and pitty, brought mee to offer you an vnusuall honor, for till this time, did neuer any thought wher­in ill might lurke inhabit, nor euer was I mou'd to thus much shew of immo­desty; yet flatter not your selfe with thought, of ouer much gaine, since my attendants witnesse my truth, and such boldnes, as durst not bee matched with loosenes. But indeed, I must say, I did like you, when I saw you first, and so well, as I then resolu'd to be courteous to you, that hath made mee willing to speake with you, and to be truely resolu'd of you; the night time I chose by reason my spirit hauing hitherto euer commanded, and not in the least, yeelded to any authority, I should now be ashamed to giue occasion of the contrary conceit, either by my countenance, or fashon, which I doub­ted would be so much more alter'd, as my desires to faor you, might purchase mee; yet hope not more then your duty, and respect to me, may lawfully challeng, least you fall into as great a hazard, as a Larke doth, who to shun the Hobby lyes downe, till the nett be laid ouer her, and so is caught by her owne folly, or base yeelding. But if you yeeld to me, it shall bee noble, if [Page 257] you refuse death: honour will not permit mee to demand ought but noble things, honour likewise ties you to obedience, you a Knight, I a Queene, able to crowne you with the title of a King, as it may bee with the honour of my loue; feare not, noblenesse dares aduenture any thing that's noble. I come not to you with threatning Armes or weapons to indanger you, only with loue arm'd fully, and so I would conquer. What needs Armes (replied the distressed Prince), where such vnmatched power raignes? weapons where beautie dwells: or can refusall liue, where such perfections authorise yeel­ding? Command mee great Queene, I am your seruant, your prisoner; what vse of words when the heart submits? or speech, when I am in your [...]oyall hands a Vassall at command? She was pleased, and well liked this an­ [...]were, her pride and power satisfied, yet out of pride ordering her actions, so as calling her maides, she went away, assuring her selfe, that his loue must bee [...]nswerable to her ambitious coueting it, and seruile to her will: but her maids [...]omming to her, they brought a marueilous louely banket of seuerall sorts of [...]ruites, both preserues, and other as that time afforded, and the delicatest [...]ines Greece did know. Then tooke she him by the hand, with a countenance of maiesty and loue mix'd, neither too high in state, nor with shew of sub­ [...]isse affection. She was no sooner gone, but Selarinus shut the doore, grieued [...]o the hart, that he should be so tempted to iniure Philistella, whose loue was [...]o ingrauen by truth in his breast, as he vowed to die, rather then consent to [...]ny greater kindnes, then that night he had yeelded vnto. The rest of which [...]ime hee spent in thinking of his loue, and weeping out compassion on his woes, that were remediles; yet such were his teares, as they made prints in [...]is soule, for euery one shed seem'd like a drop throwne on fire, that makes [...] blacke, but quencheth it not: so did those spots of falshood (as hee tearmd [...]hem) disgrace, not disanull his vowed faith. Deare Starre (said he), which [...]nely giues me light, how maiest thou darken thy selfe from fauouring me? [...]nd how iustly may I condemn'd demand no pardon? My dearer life, hadst [...]hou heard my words, or seene my manner, mightst not thou too iustly cen­ [...]ure me? I am vnworthy of thy smallest grace, and vnable to excuse my er­ [...]or; yet this consider, I must get liberty to serue thee, and how but by deceit? [...]f each one may vse deceit, it will be surely permitted, if not allowed, to enioy [...]heir loues; then for that purpose beare with me, but let me deceiue her, to [...]ee true to thee, and to be with thee. Pardon then this ill, and giue leaue to vse Art to be more plaine with thee; my bodies liberty lies in her to graunt, my heart [...]s in thine to kil or saue, sweet now be like thy like, gentle, and sweet, [...]nd be assurd, I will not liue to be vntrue vnto thy loued selfe. Then turnd he [...]n his bed, sigh'd, and wept, and so continued till the day appeared, then rose, and drest himselfe, his Page, and the attendants first appointed by the Queene waiting vpon him. When he was ready, he walk'd about the roome, at last he [...]ooked out at the window, not to see, but to be vnseene to lament, breathing his priuate sighs into the aire; the chiefe of his attendants, thinking hee had [...]tood admiring those sweet fine delights, told him, if it pleased him, hee might goe into that Garden, for such leaue he had. Hee willing to haue any signe of freedome, quicklie gaue consent, so little a place as a Gar­den being like fresh-water, comfortable to stenched fish: so this to a pri­ [...]oner.

[Page 258]Downe they went, the walkes were extreame high, and no way to bee climb'd, gaue them certaine assurance of his safety, wherefore they left him. When he was alone, he threw himselfe vpon the ground, beate his breast, and still cried out; O me wretched of all men, why am I thus punished for ambi­tions choice? Loue, thou didst choose, or say I did, why Loue, I doe the more deserue thy fauour, when choice and loue are honourd in the choice. Where he had cast himselfe, it was vnder a faire shade of Oranges, a purling brooke whispering close by him, which still he [...]hought, said; Philistella see, see; I see my wrong, cry'd he, but better consider my true loue to thee; auoid temptations poore distressed Selarinus, and proud lasciuious Queen, forbeare thy shame, and mine. Then came she in, for from her cabinet, she might be­hold that garden plainely, and perceiuing him, she said within her selfe, my loue is there, my loue commands, my loue inuites, the time allowes, and all things with my longings now agree. As she was thus resolud, she left her Ca­binet, and hasted towards the Garden, to win, assure, and so enioy him, whom she found enioying as much griefe, as absence, and imprisonment could bring a loyall louer. He saw her not, till she threw her selfe downe by him, he star­ted vp, and with humilitie demanded pardon for his boldnesse, in not rising to her Maiestie, which fault might be excused, by not perceiuing her, till shee downe was laied.

Your fault is greater (said she) in rising, since that witnesseth your desire of leauing me, no ill proceeding from kind loue and stay. He then kneeled down, and so they did discourse, she making loue, he coldly answering it, yet couering still his backwardnesse with feare, and his respect vnto her greatnes not daring to haue an aspiring thought to rise so high, till almost shee was for­ced plainely to wooe, which hardly he did vnderstand, wherefore ignorance, and duty begge his pardon: which so liked her, being assured to hold him, till she had what shee desired, and then might dispose of him according to her mind and will. She brauely wooed, he humbly entertained, and thus that day passed.

Night againe was come, when he afraid of such a louing visitant, lay mu­sing, and beseeching loue it selfe to keepe her from him. This his prayer was heard, for shee came not, but in the morning sent to speake with him, who was conducted to her chamber by many Gentlemen th [...]ough braue Galle­ries, and stately roomes. When he was arriued at the place where shee was to giue audience.

I sent (said shee) for you about a businesse, which may bring good to you, and which is more, liberty if you performe it. My life Madam (said hee) is in your power, command, I will obay. There is (said shee) [...] proud vaine man, so ouer-esteeming himselfe, as he dares thinke himselfe a match for mee, a subiect, and what more, is my Vassale: this arro­gant creature hath often sued to mee, now threatneth (if I refuse) the winning mee by force, how hee will bring the Army that is going to Alba­nia through my Country, which I haue gain [...]said, and sent refusa [...]l to the ad [...]mired brothers, who [...]e part hee boasts that hee will take, and by their helpe [...] shalbe made his wife. These, though only threatnings, yet are much vnfit fo [...] me to suffer; wherefore I desire that you will vndertake the quarrell fo [...] mee, and defend my state against the insolent subiect. Selarinus wa [...] [Page 259] loath to fight with one, who he found by her relation was his friend; yet li­berty, the comfort of ones soule, went beyond all other considerations, so as he vndertooke the businesse. She comforted with that, answered the letter he had sent, which was this.

This letter was sent, whereupon Terenius conceiued such disdaine, as gi­uing order for his raised men to attend Steriamus (what euer became of him) he went to the Court, where hee found the Queene like her letter towards him, telling him, that were it not for the honor she bore to Armes, he should haue bolts, and a hard prison, rather then liberty of combat, for his presump­tion; but comming vpon her summons to defend his vniust cause, he should haue leisure to fight. Then was Selarinus preparing for the busines, his armor being brought him, likewise his good sword, whereof he was infinitely glad: b [...]t comming downe into the lists, as soone as he saw Terenius, he knew him, hauing seene him doe very brauely in Morea, in a Iust there held for the arri­uall of Amphilanthus, and his friends after the enchantment. This, and besides the loue he heard he bore his brother, and himselfe, troubled him to fight a­gainst him, yet no remedy there was as he could yet perceiue, which afflict­ed him, [...]ill Terenius saying, that he for many yeares had not fought with any, b [...]t he spake some few words with him, vpon a vow made after encountring his owne father; he desired therefore to see the Knights face, and to say som­thing to him. The Iudges gaue leaue, so comming together, Terenius knew him, then wept he for griefe, and vnkindnes, that hee should forget him, and fight for her, who hated him, and true worth, especially against his friend and seruant. Selarinus told him, hee was there a prisoner, not knowne, but would faine get liberty, for if he were once d [...]scouerd, nothing could saue him from death. Be [...]uld by me (said he) in the fight I will make shew to run away, fol­low [Page 260] mee close, and I will leade you out of the lists, being content to be held a coward for your seruice and good, what then shall hinder vs, till wee come to my men, which are but sixe leagues hence, armd, and armd for you. Hee consented to it, but then speaking aloud; Villaine, said he, dost thou thinke to make me betray my Queene, and Mistris? With that the Queene smild, thinking her selfe secure, and assur'd of her seruant. They met with the sound of trumpets, but both missed breaking their staues, though so fairely they ran, as had it not been meant to be in earnest, they might haue giuen content with great shew of fury: they threw away their Speares, and drew their swords, fighting most eagerly to show, but the blowes falling fl [...]t-long, did no harme, like clouds threatning stormes, but in pitie breakes vp againe to clearenes. Then did Terenius retire a little, and Selarinus presse much on him, and so much, as being neere ouer-comming (as the people iudged, and all laughing at Terenius) he turnd his back to the Princes, and fled, who with all speed, and loud cries will'd him to stay; but he heard not, the other still followed. The company attended the returne of the Victor, till he staying longer then the custome was, a certaine place being limited for one that fought on such tearmes, to returne with honour from slauery, some ran after him, to let him know the fashion, and the acknowledgement of the victorie, with intreaty to come, and receiue thanks from the Queene, for the honor he had done her: but all this needed not, for they that went, might see the two late seeming enemies appeased, their swords put vp, & riding together, as fast as their horses could carry them towards Terenius Castle. The messengers re­turnd with this ill newes, the Queene stormd, tore her haire for meere anger and vexation, men were presenty raised to raze his Castle to the ground, and summes of mony offerd by proclamation to any could bring in Terenius, or Infortunius his head. Thus, was Selarinus deliuerd, by the vertue of worth, from inticement, and by loue from danger to be tempted, to wrong a con­stanter louer of him. Philistella, how art thou ingaged to praise Terenius, and his fortune, to bring freedome to thy loue? but how much more to honour that chast affection in him? which could not be wrought to wrong thee, nor to giue consent so much as to it. Thus he free, the Queene in her rage and fury sent for the Youth his Squire, who she threatned to execute, if hee did not vow, and performe it, to deliuer Infortunius into her hands againe, dead or a­liue; or if she had his head, it would be sufficient satisfaction. Hee swore hee would, and so tooke his leaue, following his Lord, till hee gaind the Castle, where he remaind some dayes to consult vpon the affaires of Albania, where it was concluded, that the army should passe that way, and ioyne with them, and if they had resistance to begin there. Thus they concluded, by which time infinite numbers of men came vnto them. The Squire to performe his promise, got a head made to the life for Selarinus, which so iustly resembled him, as none at first could thinke it was other then his fleshly, pale, death-like was the complexion, the eyes settled, the mouth a little opener then vsually, the haire of the same colour, but so much wanting the cleare brightnesse, as a dead mans haire will want of a liuing mans, the bloud as trickling downe out of the vaines, some spinning, and so naturally was all done to the life, as cunning could not performe more. When this was ready, and the army mar­ching to the confines of that kingdom, to welcome the Moreans, the Squire tooke this head, and wept to see it, being so like, though he knew the contra­ry, [Page 261] and saw his Lord by. Into a coffer of Ciprus, of purpose made, he shut it vp, with some lines written by his Lords directions; then gaue he charge for the deliuering of it, to a yong desperate fellow, who cared not for his life, or had so much wit, as to know how to saue himselfe, withall, some mony hee gaue him, gold blinding all sight of danger from him. This mad man went to the Court, when he arriu'd there, and demanded for the Queene, answere was made, she could not be seene. Shee must be seene by me, cry'd he, and so tell her, for I haue brought her a token she wil ioy to see. This being told her, she rosse, and sending for the man to her, he deliuerd the present, naild and sealed as it was giuen him. She demanded what it was? The head you desird, said he, sent by the Squire; then claimd he his reward, she granted it, and hauing discharg'd him, he departed, glad of his good fortunes, & so hasted away for [...]eare of recall. She straight cald the Court together, and being al assembled in the hal, she came in, two of her greatest Lords carrying the coffer before her; then made she a solemne speech, telling them what wrong [...]he had sustaind by the cosenage of the stranger, and yet that none of them would (to right her) take so much paines, as a meere stranger had done for her, faithfully dischar­ging his word vnto her, for here (said she) is Infortunius his head, the head of that traitor, who betrayd my loue and content. Then was the coffer opened, one of the Ladies (who attended her that night of her louing visit) holding a bason of pure gold to receiue it in, framd of purpose to hold it for euer, shee determining to keepe it, as a testimony of falshood, to be shewed to all men, and the cruell example for it. All at the first sight imagined it his, but hand­ling it, found the deceit, which she did not so soone as others (yet durst none be the discouerers, but her owne eies which proceeded in cosening her) for shee was busily reading some lines, which were laid vpon the face of him, which were to this purpose.

To witnes faith is eternal, I performe this part, in part of your commands, the head of Infortunius I send you, which may be cald so, since he is dead, and that braue body liues to the honour of the earth, and Albania's goood, famous Selarinus. The first name as counterfeit, so is this head, the other true, will let you and Epirus know, the wrong he suffered by imprisonment.

How now (cryd she) nothing but treason and deceit? Infortunius turnd to be Selarinus, and my shame for rashly louing discouerd to mine enemy? then [...]lung she away into her chamber, vowed to make no shew of reuenge, since said she, nothing can come to me but misfortune. Vext & angry she remaind, fed on her owne curstnes and scorne, hated food, as being too meane a helpe for her to receiue after such an affront; in sum, she pind with meere ill nature and disposition of body & mind, so as she fel into a feuer, and willfully would not be ruld, who she said, was borne to rule, and so brought her selfe to the last act: then beholding deaths vglines, she would not die, nor could she han­somly, for she would haue liued, if possibly; but 'twas too late; & so too soone by her owne desire, and yet vnwillingly she ended her daies, iust as the armies met; but Selarinus had in the meane time assur'd Philistella of his safety, which was so welcome to her, as the other was contrary to Olixia. Now had Epirus anciently belonged to the Kings of Albania, being annexed vnto that Crowne by a match, which the good and honest Terenius alleaging, and none standing for the Crowne, nor heire being left of those, who vniustly held it, the Crowne was by Steriamus consent, and the whole Armie, set [Page 262] vpon Selarinus his head. Then went they to the cheife Citty, and after marched toward Albania, all wishing for Amphilanthus, and none being able to tell what was become of him; most coniecturing, that hee was gone to release Selarinus, but then he must haue beene heard of in those parts; others that hee was calld away vpon some aduentures, because the night before, a strange Squire deliuered him a letter, since which time hee was not heard off.

Steriamus was loath to beginne without him, the rest aduised not to stay, being assured hee would make all hast after them. Then met they with the Italian Army, and so ioyn'd; then likewise came the Romanian Army, led by the King himselfe, who told Parselius, that Antissias was gone to vi­site Pamphilia, wherof hee was very glad, since his sister might enioy so good company. With him came Dolorindus, for after hee had beheld her picture which Polarchos brought, hee was neuer free from her affection, he being the yellow Knight, that had the ill fortune to receiue the worst in the Court of Morea; yet was that seruice a meanes to bring him to Antissi­as fauor, for hee taking that occasion to let her know his affection, she en­tertained him, being assured of her first loues losse, yet vowed she to see him once againe, or write to him, before shee would wedde Dolorindus. Besides, shee had engaged him by oath, to performe one seruice shee would employ him in when sh [...]e demanded it, and that done shee would marry him. He contented himselfe with that hope, which proued as emp­ty as it selfe; without gaine, so farr as that prom [...]se did ingage her, yet hee after enioyed her.

All the famous Princes met, the question was, who should command in cheife ouer all. Parselius had the Moreans, Amphilanthus was to com­mand his Italians, which without comparison were the brauest, and best order'd, Rosindy the Macedonians, Leandrus the Achaians, Selarinus the Epe­rians, Antissius his Romanians, Dolo [...]dus those hee brought from his King­dome of Negropont, wherof hee now raigned King. Other troops there were, wherof the chiefe of their owne Country commanded, but ouer all, as it was then resolu'd, Steriamus, for whom all these were ioyn'd, should haue the power, and name of Generall. Hee was loath to take it vpon him, so many Kings there, and himselfe hauing no army of his owne. All his arguments were turn'd to his honor, and gaine of that place, which he with much respect, and care accepted. Imagine how braue a Prince he now is, and what ioy this would be to his Vrania, to see her Steriamus command fiue Kings, besides innumerable Princes, Dukes, Earles, and valiant Knights. But the first and brauest King her brother, was not yet come, nor could there be iust guesse where he was; yet on the Army marched, newes being brought them that Plamergus had taken a strong passage, to defend, and hin­der their passing further into the Country.

This Plamergus was one that enioyed a part, and that part of Albania, ha­uing in times past beene a seruant to the l [...]st true King: but ingratitude, of all faults the greatest, beeing such as it reacheth to a sinne, he was infected, and possessed with. The braue Steriamus call'd his magnanimious Councell together, where it was resolu'd that he should be fought withall, and that Antissius with the Romanians should haue the honor of the Vantguard, [Page 263] and so it was agreed vpon. The next daies march brought them within sight of their enemy, but together they could not com, a great Riuer parting them, and he hauing throwne downe the bridge in spight. On the other side the Country was hilly, (if not more properly to say mountaynous) and not one, but many straight wayes, so as iudgment was heere required to equall va­lor and direct it. Their first resolution therfore was alter'd, & as there were fiue wayes, so they deuided themselues into fiue deuisions. The Italians Ste­riamus tooke, ioyning Dolorindus with him, and so determined to take the middle way. The King of Macedon was to take the first way on the right hand, and Parselius on the left. Antissius to goe on that side with Parselius; and Selarinus with Leandrus, were put to the last on the side with Rosindy. Much did Leandrus grudge at this, that his riuall (as he deem'd him) should bee matched with him, wherfore he began to repine at it, till the rest told him, that he was ioynd with him, only out of respect that he was one of those two, for whom all this quarrell was. Hardly this could preuaile with him; wherfore Steriamus discerning it, chang'd the order, taking the forces which Selarinus had there of Epirus into his diuision, and sent those of Negropont to Leandrus: but because Dolorindus was a King, his Leiue [...]enant went with them, and himselfe stayed with the Generall.

The next care was how to passe the Riuer, which might haue beene the first, considering that was like the barr, let downe at Barryers to stay the combat, and such a barr was this, as all their iudgments were called to coun­cell, how to avoyd the danger, and passe the water, on the other side wher­of was the desired fruit. At last Steriamus gaue this aduice, that they should cut downe part of a wood, along the side of which they had ma [...]ched, & lay those trees close together, then fa [...]ten them with chaines one to another, and so lastly all together, and passe ouer some first in the night, who might both helpe to fasten the trees on that side, and if they were discouered, hold some play with them till the army pass'd. This was well liked, and his aduice ap­plauded, so was the practise instantly put in hand, and by morning (many making quick worke) the Army passed. At breake of day the Enemie dis­couered them, which amazed them, for so many they went in front as they couered the trees and so thicke they came, as if they had walked on the wa­ter; the enemie apprehended feare, which was as terrible to them, as if a wife went out confident to meete her husband, to ioy with him, and incoun­ters him slaine: so were they wedded to assurance of safety, and vnmarryed by this stratageme.

But Plamergus gathered his spirits together, and so drew his men into the heart of the straights, where he could compell them to fight, and most wrong our men, not being able to goe aboue three in front; besides his hor [...]e he placed on the side of the hills, most aduantagiously for them, but ha [...]me­full to vs, had not fortune fauored, and made Antissius the instrument; for hee something forwarder then the rest, hauing got his Army ouer, and put them in battell, marched on, and comming to the entry of the passage, per­ceiued the place filled with the plāks, & posts of the bridge, which they had enuiously pull'd downe, those hee tooke vp, and as a certaine foretelling of their successe, made vse of the benefit, commanding his soldiers to carry them to the Riuer, and laying them vpon the tree-made-bridge, made a rea­sonable [Page 264] way for the horse to goe on; now was there noe want, horse, and foote being placed. Then were the horse likewise diuided, and the hills giuen them, so as on hills, and in the valleyes, the enemy was answered with forces. But now it is time to leaue these affaires to Mars, and let his Mistris haue her part awhile who alwayes, and at all times hath some share in busi­nesses, Pamphiliia in her owne Country contented, because as shee thought safe in the happinesse of her loue, though tormented with the burthen of ab­sence, one day walked into a Parke she had adioyning [...] to her Court; when shee was within it, shee commanded her seruants to attend her returne, her selfe taking a path which brought her into a delicate thicke wood, a booke shee had with her, wherin she read a while, the subiect was Loue, and the story she then was reading, the affection of a Lady to a braue Gentleman, who equally loued, but being a man, it was necessary for him to exceede a woman in all things, so much as inconstancie was found fit for him to excell her in, hee left her for a new. Poore loue said the Queene, how doth all sto­ryes, and euery writer vse thee at their pleasure, apparrelling thee according to their various fancies? canst thou suffer thy selfe to be thus put in cloathes, [...]ay raggs instead of vertuous habits? punish such Traytors, and cherrish mee thy loyall subiect who will not so much as keepe thy iniuries neere me; then threw she away the booke, and walked vp and downe, her hand on her heart, to feele if there were but the motion left in the place of that shee had so freely giuen, which she found, and as great, and braue an one in the stead of it, her seruants dwelling there, which more then hers she valued, and deerely held in her best dearest breast, which still sent sweetest thoughts to her imagination, euer seeing his loue, and her's as perfectly, and curiously twined, as Iuye, which growne into the wall it ascends, cannot but by break­ing, and so killing that part, be seuer'd: not like the small corne that yeelds forth many staulks, and many eares of wheat out of one, making a glorious bunch of diuers parts: this affection was but one in truth, and being as come from one roote, or gaine of matchlesse worth, brought forth but one flower, whose delicacy, and goodnesse was in it selfe. Many flowers shewes as faire as a Rose to the eye, but none so sweete: so were many loues as braue in shew, but none so sweetely chast, and therefore rich in worth; this inhabited, and was incorporat in them both, who as one, and as it were with one soule both did breath and liue.

Sweete wood said she beare record with me, neuer knew I but his loue. Loue, answered the wood being graced with an Echo. Soft said she, shall I turne blabb? no Echo, excuse me, my loue and choyce more precious, and more deere, then thy proud youth must not be named by any but my selfe, none being able to name him else, as none so iust, nor yet hath any eare (ex­cept his owne) heard me confesse who gouerns me; thy vast, and hollow selfe shall not be first, where fondest hopes must rest of secresie in thee, who to each noise doth yeeld an equall grace. As none but we doe truely loue, so none but our owne hearts shall know we loue. Then went shee a little fur­ther, and on a stub, which was betweene two trees, she sate downe, letting the one serue as the backe of a chayer to rest vpon: the other to hold her dainty feete against; Her armes she folded on her breast, as embracing his braue heart, or rather wrapping it within her armes. Deere hart said [...]hee, [Page 265] when shall I liue againe, beholding his loued eyes? can I in possibility de­serue ought? he not here, am I aliue? no, my life is with him, a poore weake shadow of my selfe remaines; but I am other where. Poore people, how are you deceiued, that thinke your Queene is here? alas tis nothing so, shee is farre off, it may be in the field performing famous acts, it may be on the Sea passing to fetch more fame, or indeed speaking with thy selfe, as I discourse to him, his time employd in thoughts of loue like mine, and so he thinking of me, brings vs both together in absence, present when distance is, and absent oft in greatest companies. But dost thou thinke on me deare loue? thy heart doth tell me so, and I belieue it as tis thine and mine. Sweet hope to see him flatter mee, but pay for such an error, and make good the ioy I take in thee; blesse my poore eyes with seeing his, that make mine lowest slaues to his commands, yet greatest Princes since so prised by him; Let these hands once be blessed againe by touching his, and make this Kingdome rich by bringing him, the truth of riches to her; let mee enioy those louing lookes, which in me force content beyond it selfe, smile in those eyes, which sparkle in desire, to make me see, they striue to expresse, what flames the heart doth hold of loue to me. Doe I not answere them? let me then straight be blind, depri­ued of that ioy of sight, and happinesse of ioy, for that alone in him, and from him can I haue.

And thou most kind and welcome memory, adde to my soule delight, the sweete remembrance of our perfect loues, bring to the passionate eyes of my imaginary sight those pleasures wee haue had, those best spent houres, when we each other held in sweet discourse: what wanted then but length of deare enioying, when his deare breath deliuerd vnto me, the onely blessing I on earth did couet, telling me he was mine, and bid me be assured when he was other, he must not be liuing, death must only alter him from mee, and me from him, for other can I not, or will I be. Sweet memory tis true, hee vowed this, nay tooke mee in his armes, and sware, that he embracing me, had all the earthly riches this world could afford him; so thought I by him [...] thus still you see one thought, one loue still gouerns him and me, are wee not most properly one? and one loue betweene vs, make vs truly one?

Further she had proceeded and run on, to infinitenesse of content in these imaginations, but from them she must be taken, to be honord with the pre­sence of her brauest Cosin, for then came one of her seruants (who knew, that breach of obedience in such a kind would bee pardoned) telling her, that the King of Naples was come to visit her. She quickly rose, nor did shee chide the man, who surely had been sorely shent for troubling her, had any other cause brought him, and so disturbd her amorous thoughts. As shee returned, Amphilanthus met her, their eyes saluted first, then followed all the other ceremonies that do befit so sit a welcome.

To the Palace they came, where nothing wanted to manifest the cer­taine gouernement that hee held there, hee being the Prince shee most respected; but whom shee loued, shee neuer would to any other once confesse. With delicate discourse they passed the time, shee neuer satisfi­ed with hearing of his acts, yet neuer vngrieued when she heard of danger, al­though past, still curious of his good. Some daies they thus remained, when newes was brought, Antissia was arriu'd. My Lord (said shee), are you [Page 266] not happy now, that in this place you shall behold your loue? The assurance of that happines (said he) did bring me hither from that royall Campe. She was no whit displeased with this reply; the next morning Antissia came to the Court; the King holding the Queene by the hand, met her at the gate. Antissia was so much ioy'd, as she was but that cosening thing it selfe, rauish­ed with false delight; she triumphed in the blaze, while the true fire burnt more solidly, and in another place. She was conducted to the Palace, Pam­philia with her left arme embracing her, holding Amphilanthus with the right hand. Into the Hall they came, where choice of musick entertaind them: Antissia neuer more pleased, Pamphilia seldome so well contented, and Am­philanthus e [...]ioying too his wish. Antissia gazed on him, and happy was when she could catch one looke cast on her, out of which shee found millions of sweet conceits, coniecturing, that by that looke he told her, she had still the whole command of him, as once she had. Dissembling enemy to perfect rest, vaine hope thou art, why didst thou cousen her, and after thy deludings, let her fall from that height to cruellest despaire? As the variety was great, and pleasing of the musick, so were their thoughts euery one moouing in their owne Spheare. Antissia as her ioy was most excessiue, as more vnruly to bee gouernd, by how much her strength of iudgement was inferior to the other two, she could least keepe silence, but began discourse, and still continued so, as she contented them exceedingly, who while shee talked, discoursed with eyes and hearts, her ouer-esteemd good fortune, taking most of her iudging sences from her. Amphilanthus with gratefull respect carried himselfe to her liking sufficiently, whose beliefe was such of him, as she tooke all to her selfe, and so tooke the iniuries for courresies.

Some dayes this continued, but now the time for the Kings departure drew neere, the day before which hee spake to Pamphilia for some Verses of hers, which he had heard of. She granted them, and going into her Cabinet to fetch them, he would needs accompany her; shee that was the discreetest fashiond woman, would not deny so small a fauour. When they were there, she tooke a deske, wherein her papers lay, and kissing them, deliuered all shee had saued from the fire, being in her owne hand vnto him, yet blushing told him, she was ashamed, so much of her folly should present her selfe vnto his eyes.

He told her, that for any other, they might speake for their excellencies, yet in comparison of her excelling vertues, they were but shadowes to set the others forth withall, and yet the best he had seene made by woman: but one thing (said he) I must find fault with, that you counterfeit louing so well, as if you were a louer, and as we are, yet you are free; pitie it is you suffer not, that can faigne so well. She smild, and blusht, and softly said (fearing that he or her selfe should heare her say so much) Alas my Lord, you are deceiued in this for I doe loue. He caught her in his armes, she chid him not, nor did so much as frowne, which shewed she was betrayd.

In the same boxe also he saw a little tablet lie, which, his vnlooked for dis­course had so surpressed her, as shee had forgot to lay aside. He tooke it vp [...] and looking in it, found her picture curiously drawne by the best hand of that time; her haire was downe, some part curld, some more plaine, as naturally it hung, of great length it seemd to bee, some of it comming vp againe, shee [Page 267] held in her right hand, which also she held vpon her heart, a wastcoate shee had of needle worke, wrought with those flowers she loued best. He beheld it a good space, at last shutting it vp, told her, he must haue that to carry with him to the field. She said, it was made for her sister. Shee may haue others said he, let me haue this. You may command, my Lord, said she. This done, they came forth againe, and so went to [...]ind Antissia, who was gone into the Parke, they followed her, and ouertooke her in the Wood, where they sat downe, euery one discoursing of poore Loue, made poore by such perpetuall vsing his name. Amphilanthus began, but so sparingly he spake, as one would doe, who would rather cleare, then condemne a friend. Pamphilia followed, and much in the same kind. Antissia was the last, and spake enough for them both, b [...]ginning her story thus.

I was till sixteene yeares of age so troubled, or busied with continuall mis­fortunes, as I was ingrafted into them; I saw no face that me thought brought not new, or rather continuance of perplexity, how was libertie then priz'd by me? enuy almost creeping into me against such, as felt freedome; for none was so slauish as I deemd my selfe; betraid, sold, stolne, almost dishono­red, these aduerse fortunes I ranne, but from the last you rescued me, and sa­ued your seruant Antissia, to liue fit to be commanded by you; yet gaue you not so great a blessing alone, but mixt it, or suffered mixture in it: for no soo­ner was I safe, but I was as with one breath pardoned, and condemned againe subiect, and in a farre stricter subiection: you braue King deliuerd mee from the hands of Villans, into the power of Loue; whither imagine you, is the greater bondage, the latter the nobler, but without question as full of vexati­on.

But to leaue these things, loue possessed me, loue tirannized, and doth com­mand me; many of those passions I felt in Morea, and whereof you most ex­cellent Queene haue been witnesse, but none so terrible, as absence hath since wrought in me, Romania being to me like the prison, appointed to con­taine me, and my sorrowes. One day among many other, I went to the sea side through a Walke, which was priuate and delicate, leading from the Court at Constantinople to the sea; there I vsed to walke, and passe much time vpon the sands, beholding ships that came in, and boates that came ashoare, and many times fine passengers in them, with whom I would discourse as an indifferent woman, not acknowledging my greatnes, which brought mee to the knowledge of many pretty aduentures, but one especially, which happe­ned in this kind,

A ship comming into the Harbor, but being of too great burden to come ashoare, in the long boat the passengers came, and landed on the sands; I be­held them, among whom was one, whose face promised an excellent wit and spirit, but that beauty she had had, was diminished, so much only left, as to shew she had been beautifull. Her fashion was braue, and confident; her countenance sweet, and graue; her speech mild and discreet; the company with her were some twenty that accompanied her, the number of seruants answerable to their qualities. Thus they came on towards vs; I sent to know who they were, and of what Country (for their habits said, they were not Greekes). The reply was they were of Great Brittany, and that the chiefe Lady was a widdow, and sister to the Embassador that lay Leigeir there for [Page 268] the King of that Countrey. I had heard much fame of the Ladies of that Kingdome for all excellencies which made mee the more desire to bee ac [...]quainted with her, yet for that time let it passe, till a fitter opportunity, which was soone offered me, for within few dayes she desired to bee permitted to kisse my hands. I willingly granted it, longing to heare some things of Brit­tany; when she came, I protest, shee behaued her selfe so excellently finely, as me thought, I enuied that Countrey where such good fashion was. After this, shee desirous of the honour to be with me often, and I embracing her desire, louing her conuersation, we grew so neere in affection, as wee were friends, the neerest degree that may be. Many times we walked together, and downe the same walke where first we met with our eyes; one day wee fell into discourse of the same subiect we now are in, freely speaking as wee might, who so well knew each other, she related the story of her loue thus.

I was (said shee) sought of many, and beloued (as they said) by them, I was apt enough to beleeue them, hauing none of the worst opinions of my selfe, yet not so good an one as aspired to pride; and well enough I was plea­sed to see their paines, and without pitty to be pleased with them: but then loue saw with iust eyes of iudgement that I deserued punishmēt for so much guilty neglect, wherefore in fury he gaue me that cruell wound with a poy­soned dart, which yet is vncured in my heart; for being free, and bold in my freedome, I gloried like a Mary gold in the Sun. but long this continued not, my end succeeding, like the cloasing of that flowre with the Sunnes setting. What shal I say, braue Princess? I lou'd, and yet continue it, all the passions which they felt for me, I grew to commiserat, and compare with mine; free I was in discourse with my reiected suiters, but onely because I desired to heare of it, which so much rul'd me, like a Souldier that ioyes in the trumpet which summons him to death. Those houres I had alone, how spent I them? if otherwise then in deare thoughts of loue, I had deserued to haue beene forsaken. Sometimes I studied on my present ioyes, then gloried in my absent: triumphed to thinke how I was sought, how by himselfe inuited, nay implor'd to pitty him, I must confesse not wonne, as most of vs by words, or dainty fashion, rich cloathes, curiositie, in curious­nes, these wonne me not; but a noble mind, a free disposition, a braue, and manly countenance, excellent discourse, wit beyond compare, all these ioynd with a sweete, and yet Courtier-like dainty Courtshippe, but a respe­ctiue loue & neglectiue affection conquered me. He shewed enough to make me see he would rather aske then deny, yet did not, scorning refusall as well he might; free gift was what he wished, and welcom'd, daintynes had lost him, for none cold winne or hold him, that came not halfe way at the least to meete his loue, I came much more, and more I lou'd, I still was brought more to confirme his by my obedience. I may boldly, and truly confesse, that what with his liking, and my obseruing, I liued as happy in his loue as euer any did, and bless'd with blessings, as if with fasts, and prayers obtain'd.

This happines set those poore witts I haue to worke, and so to set in some braue manner forth my true-felt blisse, among the cheifest wayes I found ex­pression in verse, a fine and principall one, that I followed, for he loued verse, and any thing that worthy was or good, or goodnes loued him so much as she dwelt in him, and as from ancient Oracles the people tooke direction, so [Page 269] gouernd he the rest by his example or precept, & from the continual flowing of his vertues was the Country inriched, as Egypt by the flowing of Nile gaines plenty to her fields: But I a poore weake creature, like the Ant, that though she know how to prouide, yet doth it so, as all discerne her craft: so I, although I sought the meanes to keepe this treasure, and my selfe from steruing, yet so foolishly I behaued my selfe, as indaingerd my losse, and wonne all enuy to mee; I considered not, I might haue kept, and saued, but I would make prouision before such, as might be certaine of my riches. This vndid mee, carrying a burthen, which not weight [...]er then I might wel beare, was too much seene, an empty trunke is more troblesome then a bag of gold; so did my empty wit lead me to the trouble of discouery, & chang­ing the golden waight of ioy to the leaden, and heauy dispaire; but that came many yeares after my happines, for seauen yeares I was blest, but then, O me, pardon me great Princesse cryd shee, I must not proceed, for neuer shall these lipps that spake his loue, that kiss'd his loue, discouer what befell me. Speake then said I, of these sweete dayes you knew, & touch not on his fault; mine deere Lady cryed she, it of force must be, hee could not err, I did, hee was and is true worth, I folly, ill desert; he brauenesse mixt with sweetnesse, I ignorance, and weaknesse; hee wisdoms selfe, I follyes Mistris. Why what offence gaue you said I, speake of your owne? I cannot name that, but it must (replid she) bring the other on, for how can I say I saw the clowd, but I must feele the showre, therefore O pardon mee, I will not blame him, I alone did ill, and suffer still, yet thus farre I will satisfie you. Hauing search'd with crurious, and vnpartiall iudgment, what I did, and how I had offended him, I found I was to busie, and did take a course to giue offence, when most I hoped to keepe, I grew to doubt him to, if iustly, yet I did amisse, and rather should haue suffered then disliked. I thought by often letting him behold the paine I did endure for being blessd, tooke away al the blessing, wearying him, when that I hoped should haue indeered him: but that though somtimes is away, yet not alwayes to be practised, too much businesse, and too many ex­cuses, made me past excuse. I thought, or feard, or foolishly mistrusted, hee had got an other loue; I vnder other mens reports as I did faigne did speake my owne mistrust, whether he found it, or being not so hot in flames of yong affection, (growne now old to me) as once he was, gaue not such satisfaction, as I hoped to haue, but coldly bidde mee be assur'd, hee lou'd mee still, and seem'd to blame me, said I slact my loue, and told mee I was not so fond.

This I did falsly take like a false fier, and did worke on that, so as one night hee comming to my Chamber as hee vsed, after a little talke hee was to goe, and at his going stoop'd and kiss'd, mee. I did answere that so foolishly, (for modestly I cannot call it, since it was a fauour I esteem'd, and nere refus'd to take:) hee apprehended it for scorne, and started back, but from that time, vnfortunate I, liued but little happier then you see me now. Pamphilia smild to heare her come to that; the King was forc'd to co­uer his conceits, and wish her to proceed. She tooke her selfe, pray God said shee, I doe not play the Brittaine Lady now. They both then did in­treat to heare the rest; that soone you may said shee, for this was all, only in a finer manner, and with greater passion shee did then conclude.

[Page 270]They found she was not pleas'd, therefore they sought some other way to please, and rising walked into an other wood, and so vnto a pond, which they did fish, and passe the time with all, while poore Antissia thought herselfe each fish, & Amphilanthus stil the nette that caught her, in all shapes, or fashions she could be framed in.

Then came his going, all the night before, his whole discourse, and man­ner was to purchase still more loue, greedy, as couetous of such gaine; hee wished not any thing that he enioyed not, all was as hee wished. At supper poore Antissias eyes were neuer off from him, she did lament his going, her heart wept; hee looked as glad to see she lou'd him still, (for what man liues, that glories not in multitudes of womens loues?) so he, though now neither fond nor louing to her, yet seem'd to like her loue, if only that his might be the more prized, wonne from so braue and passionate a Lady; and thus she often caught his eyes, which on what condition soeuer, yet being on her, were esteem'd, and gaue content, as debters doe with faire words, to procure their Creditors to st [...]y a longer time,: so did she, but prolonging the time in her torments to her greater losse. Amphilanthus being to depart, offer'd to take his leaue, but Pamphillia refused it, telling him she would bee ready the next morning before his going, which she was, and with Antissia, brought him a mile or more from the Court into a Forrest, then tooke leaue, hee making all hast to the Campe.

The Ladyes to auoyd idlenesse, the Queene especially to preuent friuo­lous discourse, called for her hounds, and went to hunt a Stagg; it was a sport shee loued well, and now the better, presenting it selfe so fitly to her seruice. The Rainger told her of a great Deere, which he saw in a wood as hee came to her; she followed him, and so vncoupling the Dogs, put them into the wood. The Stagge came forth with as much scorne, and contempt in his face, and fashion as a Prince, who should rather be attended then pur­sued, hating that such poore things as hounds should meddle with him, as if hee were rather to be attended then hunted. But quickly he was made to ac­knowledge that he was Pamphilias subiect, and by yeelding his life as a sa­crifice for his presumption, shewed if hee had not beene a beast, he had soo­ner acknowledged it, both in dutie to her, and for his honor, which he could receiue but by letting her delicate hand, cut open his breast, there to see it written. But during the hunting he was yet more vnhappy, for the most excellent Queene after one round, scarce made him happy with pursuing him, taking into a Groue, faigning an excuse, and there lighting, pass'd most part of the time in calling her thoughts into strict examination; which when she had done, she found them so true, as she could see none to accuse the least of them, or the busiest, for being a thoughts time seuer'd from her loue.

When shee found them so iust, Deere companions in my solitarynes, said she, furnish me with your excellency in constancy, and I will serue you with thankfull loyalty. Then tooke she a knife, and in the rine of an Oake inscul­ped a sypher, which contained the letters, or rather the Anagram of his name shee most and only lou'd. By that time the Stagge came by, grieued at her vnkindnesse, that shee would not honor his death with her presence; which shee by his pittifull countenance perceiuing, tooke her horse againe, [Page 271] and came in to his death. As shee returned, Antissia told her she was much alter'd, for once she knew her so fond of that sport, as she loued it more then [...]ny delight: shee desired her to haue a more noble opinion of her, then to thinke she was subiect to change, which was a thing she so in finitly hated, as she would abhorr her owne soule, when it left louing what it once had loued.

That was not hunting sure said Antissia, for you loue not that so well as first you did. Enter not into my loue sweete Princesse said she. I will neuer offend you answered the other; so home they went each going to her Chamber, Antissia in as great a rage as when she mistrusted Rosindy to bee Amphilanthus, but more discreetly she now carried it, Pamphilia to her lodgings where shee remain'd till they were called to dinner; the Queene with the greatest respect in the world entertaning Antissia, whose heart now fill'd with enuy, receiued it with no more delight, then one would doe a bit­ter potion, yet was her fashion sweetned with discretion: for the time shee stayed which was not long, taking her way to Romania: whither being ar­riued, she cald her sad but froward thoughts together, thanking her Fate, that brought her to see Amphilanthus, but cursing her Desteny that gaue her assurance of his change. Oh my heart said she, how canst thou beare these torments, and yet hold, continually furnished with new discontents? accursed eyes that made thee subiect to so excellent falshood, & so pleasing deceit. Pamphilia, I confesse that thou art most excellent, and meriting all, but yet not comparable (were thy selfe only vertue) to make vp the losse, that Amphilanthus hath lost, and broken in his faith, and worth, Faire, and deere gaining eyes, why smile you still in your disguising loue, betrayers of my liberty? why ioyne you hope together with your selues not to be seene, much lesse beheld with freedome? only like the fauning Crocadile to win, and kill? deere lips that seem'd to open but to let the hearts desirs to come vnto mine eares, seuerd you deceitfully your selues to ruine me? that onely excellent, and loued breath, could it be thought it should proue poyson to my choycest blisse? far-well delights, the truest flatterers, and thou dispaire infold me, I am thine. Then writ she certaine verses, they were these.

With great spleene against him, and affection to her selfe for her braue­nesse, she read these lines ouer againe; but then whether iudgment of see­ing them but poore ones, or humble loue telling her she had committed trea­son to that throne, moued her, I cannot iustly tell, but some thing there was that so much molested her as she leap'd from her stoole, ranne to the fire, threw in the paper, cryd out, pardon me great Queene of loue I am guilty. I plead no other; mercy take on me thy poorest vassall, I loue still, I must loue still, and him, and only him, although I be forsaken. The sweete Riuers she visited and on their banks continually did lye, and weepe, and chid her eyes because they wept no faster, seeing them but drop vnto the streame. My heart said she yeelds more plentifull & deere shed teares then you. Alas Antissia how doe I pitty thee? how doe I still lament thy hap, as if a stranger? for I am not she, but meere disdaine, yet then she stayd, soft fury, cry'd she, I must not permit your harshnesse to creepe into my heart; no I shall neuer hate, I lou'd too much, and doe to alter now. Then tooke she forth a picture hee had giuen her willingly when she did aske it; that she wept on, kiss'd it, wip't it, wept, and wip't, and kiss'd againe. Alas that thou alone said she the shadow should be true, when the true substance is so false; cold Cristall, how well doth thy coldnesse sute his loue to mee, which once was hot, now col­der then thy selfe; but were it chast like thee I yet were bless'd, for 'tis not losse alone but change that martyrs me. The picture she then shut, and put it where it was, which was vpon her heart, she there continually did cherish it, and that still comfort her, when by it shee did see hee had loued her, and though now quite bereaued of happines in that, yet did that cleere her from the folly, idle loue without reward had else condemned her in. Oft would shee read the papers she had gaind from him in his owne hand, and of his making, though not all to her, yet being in that time she did not feare, shee tooke them so, and so was satisfied. Read them she did euen many millions of times, then lay them vp againe, and (as her greatest priz'd and only bless­ing left) kept them still neere, apt many times to flatter her poore selfe with [Page 273] hope he had not cleane left her, who did so kindly let her keepe those things, contrary to his manner with others, as he reported to her self, for from them he tooke at v [...]rying all they had of his [...] as from Lucenia, who hee told, shee could not esteeme of his shadow, so little prizing the substance; but thē as ma­ny bold assurances told her, she was deceiued. The Meads she much frequen­ted, walking in their plaines, especially shee did affect one, more then all the rest, a Willow tree growing in the midst, and plentifully spreading branches, witnessing forsakennes round about, so as she might be held in that sad shade from the heat of Sun-hope-ioy. Miserable Antissia (waild she her selfe), in how few yeares hast thou made a shift to see the whole world of misfortune? yet of the worst, and the only worst, is disdaine and losse in loue. Then car­ued she in the trunke of that tree, till she had imbroiderd it all ouer with cha­racters of her sorrow: in the crowne of this tree she made a seat big enough for her selfe to sit in [...] the armes, and branches incompassing her, as if shee were the hat to weare the Crowne of Willow, or they were but the flowers of it, and her selfe the forsaken compasse, out of which so large and flourishing a crowne of despised loue proceeded, so as take it either way, shee was either crownd, or did crowne that wretched estate of losse, a pitifull honor, and griefefull goue [...]ment: but this was the reward for her affection, and which most poore louing women purchase. Melysinda was yet more fortunate, for within some two moneths after Amphilanthus his departure, her husband by a bruise he receiued at the Iusts held there, had an Impostume bred with­in him, which was not discouerd, till helpe was past, so as he died, leauing her a braue and faire Widdow. Good nature made her sorry for him, but shee tooke it not so heauily (though teares she shed) as to giue cause to the world to lament the marring of so excellent beauty for the losse of a husband, who if he could haue been by sorrow brought againe, there had been reason for it, but otherwise shee must haue run into the danger of being thought vnrea­sonable too much to sorrow, and as if dislike, what heauenly powers willd: wherefore obediently to them, and discreetly to the world, she grieued suffi­ciently for him, keeping as strict a course of mourning, as the most curious could not thinke it in any place or manner too little.

She saw no man in two moneths after his death, the first were the Counsell, in which time they had gouernd; then came shee forth to them into a priuate roome, where they onely were, her face couerd below the eyes with a Scarfe throwne carelessely ouer (not a Vaile, for so much finenesse had been much, and too little mourning) another piece of mour­ning came, and couered her chinne to her lippes, and a little past: her Gowne made with a wide long sle [...]ue to the ground, was of blacke Cloth, a Mantle ouer it of the same, to which was a Trai [...]ie, carried by two Ladies of her Bed-chamber likewise in cloth, but their faces bare; the whole Court hung with Cloth; no Roome that mourned not, as if each had a particular losse, no people of the Court, or that came to the Court, but were in that dolefull liuery, Embassadours from all king­domes to condole.

And thus she liued, till Ollorandus came vnto her six moneths after, which hindred his going to the army in Albania, loue euer hauing, or taking the liber­ty to cōmand, scorning then but to be obayd, which the faire cosins, Vrania, [Page 274] and Philistella made experience of, to whom the newes of Selarinus his im­prisonment came, and presently after the happy deliuery, and Coronation of him to mitigate the [...]ury of her sorrow, which was such as tormented Vra­nia to see, whose heart was perplexed especially for parting and absence, of­ten bursting into passions like these. Can you tell mee, you poorest eyes where my loyall heart remaines? haue you not perceiued it in his louing, and still answering lookes; from which, and in which truest beauty smiles? did it not there descry the ioy it selfe, striuing to let you knowe the place it happily obtained; playing, and making baby pastimes as it lay closed in that shrine of glory? but much more triumphed it, when you might knowe his breast embraced it, surprising the run-away, as by sweet force made his, while greatest hearts for pitty cries, and wailes neglected [...] nay, so dyes. If thus you then be placed, no maruell sure you leaue my poore afflicted body desolate, where nothing but distemper, or loues paines inhabite; yet cast your lookes this way, see my petition for your safe returne, heare mee make vowes that none but you can bring content, your absence mastring mee, your presence bringing blisse; yet absent, your loued Image, and your dearest selfe remaines infigured in my chastest breast, and myrrour-like presents you to my sight, yet coldly, like a Statue made of stone: or as the picture, while loues sweetest race runs to the warmth of sight. If then remembrance, or the perfect memo­ry of you be but a picture, whereof I am made the liuely case, faithfully kee­ping that rich portraict, still from change or thought that relique to displace, nourishing, and with it liuing, as oyle, and lampes doe simpathise in life: each looke alluring wishings to our ioyes. Restore that life-peece now and make me bless'd, crowne my soules longing with thy grant, and come to see m [...]e triumph in thy dearest sight, my onely selfe, my onely loue. These passions was she in when Philistella found her in the walkes, speaking vnto her selfe, and walking with so fast, and vnused a fashion, differing from her graue, and discreet manner, as if loue had lay'd a wager with discretion, yet hee would make her at that time (to fulfill his will) forget her selfe and wholly serue him; he won that, and iudgement made her asham'd, when Philistel­la came vnto her, and told her shee wonder'd to see her so. Loue, loue faire Philistella (cryed shee) can doe this, and more, but happy you can keepe your paines more secret, and more close; that is not, not e'er yet hath beene my hap (said she) for no eye hath beheld mee, but together sawe my loue.

No sweetest Cousin saide Vrania, wrong not your great wit with tax­ing it vniustly, haue I not seene how prettily and with an excellent disdaine you did refuse his humble suite in loue? his eyes haue beene euen rea­dy to burst out in teares, when you haue smiled, and changed your first discourse, as if of purpose to deny his plaints. Alasse, would I thinke happy Philistella, how art thou aboue thy sexe most fortunate? poore me, had I but one such, or the like content, it were for mee eternall happinesse while she reiecteth loue; did Steriamus loue like as his brother doth, were I not of all women blessed? but his affections, are in an other seate enthronised; these thoughts, (while you like Summer florish'd) nipp'd my dayes, yet now I praise my desteny nothing except sad absence grieueth mee, while you, whether not grieu'd, or not so louing I cannot well iudge, feele not, or shew [Page 275] not that you haue the sence, which absence brings vs louers. Sweetest Vrania answerd she, my soule can tell you I dissemble not, nor did my manner, or my face couer yet my flames, when I did heare my deare and only Lord impri­soned was, did I not faint, and loose my strength, as hating that, since not suf­ficient to release my loue? Was not the Court distempred, and my Parents grieued, fearing my comming danger, when the harme was neerer to mee, then they could imagine? Wept I not, when the mastring griefe was passed? sighed I not still, & cryd against proud, and curst treacheries? how did I hide the boyling heate of sorrow I containd? Wau'd I not with each passion vp and downe, as boughs blowne with the wind, some times resolu'd to die, o­ther times to liue for a reuenge, and still distracted? more I sought to turne, more fast tied still, my heart like leade in fire, melting with the heate of fury call you this discreete, and wise behauiour? could loue no better bee dissem­bled, or the sparkes no finelier raked vp in discretion? But now I see you smile at me, while you indeed doe better, and more curiously, like cunning workemen best beguile our eyes. Its well sweet, daintiest Princesse, you may flout your friends. But said Vrania, when did you see me one whole day, and not sigh, or weepe, or steale away to do them? I heere vow vnto Loue, which vow I will not break, that neuer creature felt more paine, nor euer any more discouerd it; I doe confesse it as a weaknesse in me, but I cannot helpe it; if I did see him one poore instant space alone, me thought it was my duty to goe to him, if he spake to another, was I not, nor am I not thinke I as worthy, or as fit to talke with, as her selfe. Almost suspition oft-times grew in me, but ab­solute fondnesse neuer was away, I doe not thinke in houres, while I haue stood at audiences, which the King hath giuen, I haue been one minute alto­gether ioyned with my eyes held from him, I haue looked off tis true, but like a Deare at feede, start vp for feare, but straight againe returnd vnto the food, which from his eyes I tooke, yet I am secret, and discreet in loue. Neuer credit mee deare Cosin, if I speake not truth, I found not that you did requite his loue, till your owne lippes to honour me deliuered it. I shall the better credit this, and loue my fashion so much more (said Philistella), since you commend me, but in troth I spake as guiltinesse forced mee: but now wee are so free, let me be bold to aske this question; In this heate of loue, did not your former passion neuer come glancing into your eyes? could you behold Parselius with freedome, and Steriamus with affecti­on?

I will, said Vrania (as to my confessor) tell you the truth; it was mee thought a wonderfull odde change, and passing different affection I did feele, when I did alter: for though I were freed from my first loue, and had a power to choose againe, yet was I not so amply cured from me­morie, but that I did resemble one newly come out of a vision, distract­ed, scarce able to tell, whether it were a fixion, or the truth; yet I re­solued, and so by force of heauenly prouidence lost the first, and liue in second choice, and this deare soueraigne good receiued I from Leu­cadia.

But when I had thus far proceeded, then did feare accompany my change, lest Steriamus should despise my second loue, not hauing giuen him my first as the best, which in troth in some sort he had obtaind, for I liked [Page 276] him, before I loued the other. Oft did I study, how I might compasse my blessing, when for my most, and future happinesse, hee was as much engaged vnto me, and so was Melisseas Prophecy performed, for wee from death in shew rose vnto a new loue; he feared likewise, that I would scorne his gift, and after many vehement and affectionate suings, hee presented me with a little booke of Verses, among which were many to excuse himselfe, and to com­mend a second loue, I remember one Sonnet, being this.

These I did learne, for these did fit mee best, and from that time conten­ted was to let him see, I entertaind his sute, which was his kingdome wonne in sweet delight; then was that as an Empire to my gaine, when I first saw him rudely, yet innocently clad, like a Lamb in wool for colour and softnesse to the eye, or touch his face blushing like modesty, after his arme had show­ed manly power, his delicacie asking pitie, but his commanding absolutenes, disdaining it as much, as the bright Moone, if we should say wee were sorry in a frostie night, to see her face in the water, least she might bee cold: rather might I say, I feard the Sunne would burne him, when hee enamourd of his dainty skinne, did but incloase him with his power from other ha [...]me, touch­ing him not to hurt, but to make difference twixt his fauours, shind, and shiel­ded him, while others he did burne, kinde in embracements, and soft in his force. The language he did speake, was milde, so were his lookes, loue shad­dowing all himself within his eyes, or in his face, keeping his greatest Court, because most gaining.

Ah sweet Philistella, had you seene the vn-relatable exquisitenesse of hi [...] youth, none could haue blam'd me, but euen chid me, for not instantly yeel­ding my passions wholly to his will; but proud ambition, and gay flatteri [...] made me differ, and loue your brother: thus if I changd, twas from sweete Steriamus to Parselius, for his excellency wonne me first; so this can bee no [...] change, but as a booke layd by, new lookt on, is more, and with greate [...] iudgement vnderstood. You need not (said Philistella) striue to make me se [...] [Page 277] your loue, and cause thereof to Steriamus, since (I truely speake) I thinke none worthyer to bee truely loued (except my Lord) then I imagine him, nor can I much, or any way defend my brother, who, (had you still conti­nued louing,) I should haue blam'd he prouing so vniust, yet this only salue and good excuse is left, Desteny did, and euer still must rule. Now for mee deere Vrania, all I aime is loue, if I discourse, what is it of but loue? if I walke out, what trauell in but loue? if I sit still, what muse I on but loue? if I discoursed be withall, what answere I but loue? so as being made, main­taind by loue, and in loue shaped, & squared only to his rule, what neede ex­cuses but plaine truth? and say if I doe speake from purpose, or extrauogant­ly fly from the matter we were talking of, if cleaue to other [...]ubiect [...]diuert the proferd speech, say this, and only this, Loue who is Lord of all braue royall minds, hath like the heauens beheld my lowly breast, and in it taken lodging, gracing it with humbling his great Godhead, to embrace a true, and yeelding heart, in comparison of his supreame authority most meane, should I not thus without excuse be freed, nay euen respected when loue is adored? As if hee spake from me, so heare me now, loue dwels in me, hee hath made me his hoste; then if I only doe remaine (as sure I shall) wholly affection, and his humblest slaue, scorne mee not, but still reckon mee a ser­uant nearest wayting on great Loue. Others like Painters better can set him forth in his coulers; Kings we see haue pictures drawne to be eternised by, but tis them selues for which the picture is drawne, not for the workemans skill: so fauor me for Loue, nor blame me though an ill peece, 'tis the best though by an ill hand drawne; tis to the life, others may smoother bee, and fairer, none more like, nor iust vnto the perfect true resemblance of pure loue; & thus see you before your royall selfe, the humblest vassall Cupid cheri­sheth.

Vrania in her soule cōmended the pretty confession, faire Philistella made, admiring her sweetnesse of disposition, as much as before she wōdred at the beauty of her person, embracing her, my deere companion in true loue said she, now shall we with more ease, and freedome serue our Master; dayes must not passe without our seruice done to him; nor shall, my deere Vrania said the other, let our most priuate thoughts be to each other plaine and o­pen, seacrysie to all others held, and only loue, and we, know what we think, thus they did liue and loue, and loue, and liue. Nerana still remaining in Cicely, now growne as humble, as before proud, and ashamed as before scor­ning, liuing in a Caue alone, and feeding on hearbs, roots, and milke of Goats which fed on those rocks: playing the milke-mayd better then before the Princesse, extremity forcing her, contented with patience, and pati­ently contented, nothing troubling her but her loue, which was, and is e­nough to vex the greatest, and best gouernd Spirits, hers being none of those the exactliest ruld. To bring her from her misery, (Loue hauing sufficient­ly tyrannised) the King Perissus came thither, who in loue to his friends, the braue, and matchles Princes, meant to assist them; iournying towards them, hee happned to that place, where he beheld the sportfull exercise of Fortune, a Princesse without a Country, cloathes, or seruants, a Lady that must tell her selfe to be one, else not to be mistrusted, a miserable woman, and the more so because she felt it, experience, and sufferance making her sen­cible [Page 278] of misfortune. She sought to shunne the King at first, but afterwards considering her good might come from him, her hurt likely if kept close to abide with her, she came vnto him, and with much humility made her a­proach, who beheld her with a gratious, and pittying eye, seeing in her more then ordenary behauiour, and a countenance that might carry greatnes with it, and had it in it, though shadowed vnder pouerty. Perissus tooke her to him, and demanding some things of her, shee answered with these like words.

Said she, this estate may iustly merit contempt, and scorne from you, or so great a Prince as you appeare to be. I am a creature liuing by ill chance able to relate my misery, which if you please to giue an eare vnto I shall tell you. I am cal'd Neraena Princesse of Stalamina, made in myne owne Coun­try, and in the most perfect time of my rule, subiect to a stranger, both to me, and I feare good nature so far scorning me, as it brought me to this estate you see me in; for after with curst, and scornfull words, he had refusd my loue, and louing petition for pitty, left me, and with his friends as courteous, as he was proud, and kind, as he cruell, the renowned Princes Amphilan­thus and Ollorandus tooke shippe. I could not but pursue in folly, as in loue, and so tooke a troublesome, and tedious iourney; to Morea I came of purpose to see her who was my vndoer, for hee loued Pamphilia, and shee, would I behold, desiring or so gayning my end, no more contented with hearing it, but like Procris, would seeke it, and gaine it. There I had enter­tainment, like my search, smiles in scorne, and losse in hope; for in that Prin­cesse I confesse worth to conquer hearts, and thus I yeeld his choyce most perfect. But this could not hold me from accusing my want of iudgment in going thither to behold her, as if I would wash mine eyes the cleerer to see my ill.

What folly said I, led me to this Rocke of mischeife, to be cast downe, and ruin'd on the ground of scorne? yet did not this hinder my iourney, for me thought I was more deseruing him, then the rare Princesse, so partiall are we to our selues, that I could almost haue belieued she seemed excellent, because mine eyes, like a flattring glasse shewed her so, yet againe thought I, why should I commend her, who vndoes my blisse? My spleene then swell'd against her, and I was sicke with anger, that I as abruptly left Morea, as Steriamus did Stalamina; thence I was by the braue Amphilanthus directed to Saint Maura, but a storme brought me hither, where with a greater tem­pest I was molested, falling into the hands of a mad [...]man, who dress'd me as you see, and with diuersity of franticke fits, perplexed me. I haue since liued in these places, and seene Winter in cold despaires, and Sommers heat in flourishing misery: nor saw I any, of whom to demand fauour these many months, first shuning all, till now; wherefore from your hands I implore it, let not my outward meanes hinder your noble mind from pitty, but rather shew it where most want claimes it. I confesse contempt is likelyer to bee my reward, whose pride was such, as that punishment best fitteth me, but I am humbled, and my former fault looks more odious to me, then thought of this fortune would haue done, in my height of greatnes. The King had be­fore heard of her, and tooke compassion of her, carrying her to the Towne, where that night she was to lye, in his owne Charriot which was led spare, [Page 289] she rid thither, where he cloathed her according to her dignity. But when she had her greatnes againe in good clothes put about her, she began to grow to her wonted accustomed humours, like a garden, neuer so delicate when well kept vnder, will without keeping grow ruinous: So ouer-running-wee­dy pride, in an ambitious creature proues troblesome to gouerne, and rude to looke on. Feare to see her poorenes, held her from looking in either the face of a fountaine, or Riuer, but now her eyes tels her, shee is her selfe, which is enough to make her remember, she was, and must bee againe as she was directly.

Shall I said shee, change from lownes to noblenes, and not come to my noble spirit? then were I more vnfortunate to haue such an alteration, then if held in raggs; the mind is aboue all but it selfe, and so must mine bee. O [...]ght I not to glory in my good, that I am redeemed from a priuate life? nay must I not loue my selfe, who I see Heauen hath such care of, as not to let me be obleiged to other then one of mine owne ranke for the fa­uour, as esteeming none other worthy to serue me? Steriamus, would thou didst but see this, and thy disdainefull Mistris behold my honor, it might worke good vpon you both, and teach you, how to esteeme of those, (or in­deed her) who the highest powers obserue, and reuerence. Alas, what a [...]oole was I to be molested with my former fortune; had I beene able but to see what now I discerne, I should haue reioyced at it, since without questi­on, it was done for my greater honor, and of purpose to shew me, how much the highest would expresse affection, nay respect vnto me. Marke but the whole carryage, did not all adore me? the mad-man were his fits other then worshipping me, as Sheephardesse, Nimph, or any thing? did he not hum­ble himselfe most respectiuely vnto me?

Then bee thy selfe absolutly bless'd Neraena, all creatures made to secure thee, and of all kinds, command then, and shew thou art worthy of such hap­py authority; Soare like the Hobby, and scorne to stoope to so poore a prey as Steriamus, who now looks before mine eyes, like a Dorr to a Faulcon; my mind preserued for height, goes vpward, none but the best shall haue li­berty to ioyne with me, none Master me. Ignorant Prince what glory did'st thou shunne, when thou didest dispise the most reuerenced of women, the fauorite of the louing Gods, and Goddesses? Dull man to loue any but Neraena, the most loue-worthy of her sex, and her whom all may glory in for affecting, and that iudgement I discerne in this King, who was euen at first sight rauished with beholding me; true loue that only regards beauty, not apparrell, & to that end did loue cloath me in ragges to conquer a King. Poore Peris [...]us I pitty thee, that thy constancy must loose the strong power it had till now, and yeeld to my victory, who cannot requite thee; yet faine would he couer his affection, but t [...]s plainely seene, how doth he steale looks on me? cast vp his eyes, then sigh? these tell me that his heart is my priso­ner, and the contention is twixt his difficulty to part from so long a fixed affection, and feare of my refusall, which he must finde, if hee pursue in it. Alas, I faine would helpe it if I could, but constancy (though a fruitlesse vertue) gouerns me.

With that the King came to her, whom she vsed after the same manner, as if he had beene in loue (as she imagined) which was nothing so, but made [Page 290] him coniecture that she had beene with good feeding growne into her fury againe, and fullnesse had renewed her madnesse; he was sorry to see her so, that she accounted passion, which was pitty of her, hee being the worthy­lest constant, and who would not let one spot come to touch, or blemish that purenes which remayned in him: like the fixed Starrs, shining with ioy, and giuing light of purest content vnto his excellent soule; but at last he found her false imagination grow troublesome, to auoyd which, hee meant to bee rid of her, wherefore at the Port where he was to take Shipping, he appoin­ted a Barque of purpose for her, to carry her to her owne Country, and some seruants to attend her, besides some of her owne who came vnto her, when her finding was noysed abroad, and vpon submission were receiued. When shee saw her selfe thus slighted, as she term'd it, because the King he [...] new seruant as she called him, did not attend her in his owne person; shee froun'd; Hee found she disliked it, and therefore sought to excuse himselfe, the more he proceeded in that, the greater grew her insolency, so as at the last she answered his complements, with vnmannerly replyes, and in the end, flat reuilings.

Hee noble, and courteous, would not be seene to wrangle with her, nor suffer her follies to offend him, wherefore he Ship'd himselfe and his com­pany, commanding the Mariners to saile for Greece.

When she was with all her greatnes thus left on the Shoare with a trayne of twenty, instead of a King, and fiue hundred Knights, which she flatterd her selfe should haue waighted on her, she storm'd extremly within her selfe, hauing such a tempest of rage, as it could not be told, whether prid, or scorne blew highest in her fury; but time brought a little calme to her, so as cursing Ceicili, Perissus, and all men, but such vassals as were to serue her, and almost her selfe, for hauing need of such vassals, she ship'd with resolutiō to exercise her iust anger vpon her people, where she found a new businesse; for being landed in Lemnos, and going to the Citty where she expected solemne enter­tainment, bon-fires, and such hot triumphs for her welcome, contrarywise she encounterd the cold face of neglect, and losse of her Country, being possess'd, and gouernd by a younger sister of hers, who she had so contemned in times past, as she disdaind to let her appeare before her presence, but held her inclosed in a strong Tower, many times to molest her, making her pre­pare her selfe to dye.

This had so temperd her, (who it may be had some sparks of the fire of pride which flamed in Neraena) as she was as humble, and mild, as her sister excelld in the opposite, and so had she wonne the harts of the people, who after Neraena was lost, quickly fetched out the other, and as soone ac­knowledged her their Princesse.

But now she is return'd, what diuersity of opinions were among them, some out of honest dispositions, and good plaine conscience would haue their true Lady restored; others for feare wished the same, but all ioyning together, and euery one hauing spoken, the chosen resolution was, shee should no more gouerne; pride could not gaine obedience, nor scorne, com­mand, but what most vrged against her, was the pollitique feare they appre­hended of her reuenge on them, who had giuen them selues to an other Go­uernesse in her absence, so as they chose rather to commit a fault vnpar­donable, [Page 291] then to venture vnder her pardon, as if one should burne all the furniture of a House, because one Roome was infected with the Plague.

Now Neraena, where is thy greatnesse, but in miserie? where the so often named title of Princesse but in bondage? where all thy glorie but in subiection? and where thy subiection, but in thy braue Stalamina, and vnder thy dispised Sister? punishment iustly allotted for such excessiue ouer-weening: but how shee was imprisoned in the same place she had made her sisters abode, attended on but by one Iaylor, fed neately, an̄d [...]oorely to keepe downe her fancy, told still shee was mad, and threatned [...]o bee vsed accordingly, if shee raued, accused of fury, and that made [...]he cause to satisfie the people, who ignorant enough, had sufficient [...]ause to belieue it, seeing her passions, which though naturall to her, yet [...]ppeared to their capacities meere lunatick actions; how these things pro­ [...]eeded and increased, after some time was expired, shall bee related.

AMphilanthus being now to be spoken of, after he had left Pamphilia, past along the sea, purposing to goe to Mo­rea, and so to Albania; but one in the Ship aduised him rather to take a nearer course, and vndertooke to be his guide, so he resolued, knowing him to be of Macedon, and one who knew all those parts perfectly wel, besides, a seruant to his Cosin, the King and Queene thereof, gaue credit and trust vnto him, and so they sailed, direc­ted by him: yet Amphilanthus remembring the aduenture in Cyprus, called to mind his acquaintance and friend Polarchos, wherfore he would needs put into Rodes to visit him, and take him along (if he could) with him. This was a happy thought for that poore Prince, who all this while continued in the Iron Cage weather-beaten, and almost starued by the crueltie and ingrati­tude, of his once best, and only beloued. When the King landed, he deman­ded of one that hee met, where Polarchos was; he being of a good nature (though a Rodian) answered, Alas Sir (said hee) where hee hath been euer since his returne from Greece, in an Iron tower prisoner. The King admired at that, neuer hauing heard one touch of it, so as desiring to bee resolu'd, hee particularly demanded the causes and reasons; hee as freely answered, so as the truth and manner being knowne, the King altred his purpose of going like himselfe, and a Visitor, changing it to goe as a Knight of Ciprus, and one of purpose come (hearing of his imprisonment) to release him vpon any con­dition. Then changed he his Armor, taking one of Azure colour, his Plume Crimson, and one fall of Blew in it; the furniture to his horse being of those colours, and his Deuice onely a Cipher, which was of all the letters of his Mistrisses name, delicately composed within the compasse of one, and so was called, the Knight of the Cipher. Being arriued at the Court, and his com­ming made knowne to the Princesse, she gaue him hearing, and after some words deliuered with neglect enough, she told him, that he should haue the honor to encounter a Knight of her appointing, whom if he could ouercome Polarchos should be deliuerd him free out of prison; if not, hee should yeeld himselfe, if vanquished to her power, and that I rather belieue (said she) will [Page 294] happen, and that my Knight will make you as little, and of as little account, as your Deuise and name signifieth. He made her answere, that although a Ci­pher were nothing in it selfe, yet ioyned to the figures of her worth, whose name was therein, it was made aboue the valew of her selfe or Country. She was mad to heare him so bold with her, yet hauing giuen licence before to his demand, shee could not by the lawes of that Country, doe him any affront: so as shee was forced to content her selfe with hope of his o­uerthrow, and vow of the cruellest reuenge, that might bee inflicted on any (who had so much offended a vaine woman). The day come, which was the next that followed, the night she had passed with so many frets, and distempers against the stranger, as she thought him, who had been once so neare of her acquaintance, as shee confessed onely from him to haue receiued her content, and happinesse, when he gaind her fathers liking to Po­larchos, now her enemy, then her friend. She came forth in all the magnifi­cence that Country could afford to serue her foolish pride with all; the Court as glorious, as if going to a wedding, not a funerall, as that was likely to prooue. Poore Polarchos was led forth in his chaines, and by them fastned to a Pillar, not hauing so much fauour allowed him, as to be permitted to sit or lie, to ease himselfe, griefe onely shewed in his face to be predominate. Amphilanthus beholding him; Alas braue Prince, said he, must those excel­lent armes and hands be bound to her cruell ingratitude, and inhumane vn­kindnesse? must thy worth bee chained by her vnworthinesse? and thy excelling selfe, a prisoner to her pride? Then hasted he the combat, where­in he encountred a valiant and strong Gentleman, being one fit to defend an ill cause, by reason that strength is most required, when weakenesse gouern'd by Iustice will be strong enough; but his strength, though Iustice had been ioyned, would haue faild against this King, who had so soone ended the bu­sinesse, as it appeared rather a thought of a combate, then the executing of one. The Princesse in infinite furie flung from the window, commanding that the strangers with their gaine, quickly left her Country, least they obtai­ned Polarchos Cage. The King was offended with her arrogancy, yet being slightly attended to oppose a whole Country, went quickly thence, glad of his happy aduenture to haue his friend with him, and in that manner redee­med by his hand from such a bondage. On they passe towards Greece, deter­mining to hold that name, the Princesse had been so bold with all, hauing had so great fortune with it in the beginning, and so to goe vnknowne to­wards the Army, where with some prety fine aduentures, they arriued, one being this. Not farre from Athos where they landed by a delicate Woods side, they saw a Forrest Nimph lie on the ground, and hard by her a youth, who as he beheld her (with as much amorosnesse as his young yeares could entertaine, or loue be pleased to inrich him with all) sang this Song.

She was faire, and he louely, being apparreld in greene made so neately, and fit to him, as if he had been a Courtier, or one of those finer people had had his cloathes, might haue been calld curious; his legges straight, and of the curiousest shape, were in white stockins, Garters he had none, his Hose being fastned aboue his knee; vnder his Girdle stuck his Arrowes, his Bow he held in his left hand; in stead of a Scarfe he had the line and coller, where with he was to leade his hound baudrick-wise athwart his slender body, the Dog lay at his feete, waiting on him, it appear'd willingly he attended, for he needed no bands to tie him to his seruice; his haire was thick, somthing long and curld, the Sunne had made it something yellower, then it naturally was, as if he would haue it nearer his owne beames, so much hee loued the Lad, & vsed to hold him neare, for he had kist his cheekes too hard, leauing the re­membrance of his heate, which yet did well with him, manifesting the bet­ter his manner of life, and the practice of hunting, wearing that liuerie. Such quicknesse he had in his eyes, which were full, and blacke, as they looked like sparks of Diamonds set in Iet; his lipps red, his teeth white, and such an one, as might truly bee called a louely youth. She euery way meriting such an one, being as delicate, as he hansom; she was partly in Greene too, as her vp­per garment, white Buskins she had, the short sleeues, which she woare vpon her armes, and came in sight from her shoulders were also white, and of a glistering stuffe, a little ruffe she had about her neck, from which came stripps which were fastned to the edges of her gowne, cut downe equally for length, and breadth to make it square; the strips were of lace, so as the skinne came stealinglie through, as if desirous, but afraid to bee seene, know­ing that little ioy would mooue desire to haue more, and so shee might bee wooed to show her necke more bare. Shee was as curiouslie pro­portioned, as all the Artists could set downe to make excellent.

[Page 296]Her haire was not so white or yellow as others, but of a dainty, and loue-like browne, shining like gold, vpon blacke, her eye browes thick, and of so braue a compasse, threatning, that the arrowes which those bowes would shoote, were not to be resisted, but yeelded to, as a Deere, shot to the hart, falls downe, and dyes: so they must ouerthrow, and conquer; her eyes gray, and shi [...]ing like the morning, in each of which a Venus Starr did rise, and dwell; her lipps as delicate, and redd, as if they were angry at him, and would haue no other satisfaction but by meeting, for shee did loue as much as hee. So fine a couple these were, as Loue did glory in them, and they ioy in him, happines beyond all others, louing, and blessedly being beloued a­gaine. When he had finished his song, she smild vpon him, asking him how he came to be acquainted so perfecty with loues wants, or gaines; My heart saith he hath so long serued him, as that tels me what my Master doth, when he conquers, when he failes, as not being able to subdue your breast, he cryes for want of power, but martyrs me in fierce reuenge of his vnwinning force. Yeeld then dee [...]e Nimph, if but in pitty, and that pitty will proceede to loue. Loue then did speake so liuely in his eyes, and made it selfe come forth of such deere lipps, as she, (poore she) could not, though armd with womans greatest strength resist so good a charme; she look'd, and blush'd, and was a­bout to speake [...] then cast her eyes vpon the ground, but straight look'd vp a­gaine, and faine would say, I must requite your loue, but loath shee was to speake it, and yet kind pitty mooued, and so at last with pitty, loue, and Mayden blushing modesty, shee said. If you proue iust, I will yeeld to your loue; but bee so, since I leaue this habit, and the cha [...]test life to liue with you, and in a forrest sta [...]e. Those eyes that first had won her, hee cast vp to heauen, before which he did vow truth, and pure loue then brought them to his blisse, beholding her as timerous, as louing, not knowing what she had done, innocent and passionate, was betweene those two, a delicate vn­knowing creature. Nature taught her to be carefull, and yet kind; thus she beheld him now with loue, and such respect, as she must beare him, whom she had made her Lord (for Lord the husband is in all estates from Shep­heards vnto Kings). Then did the pleasing difference begin, each striuing how to shew the most respect, she to maintaine what she had gaind, he to re­quite what shee had giuen. Amphilanthus and Polarchos admiring them as much, as either had in former times themselues, when first in loue, calling their passions round about them, wrapping themselues in them, as in their mantles, but closer did they sit to them; Amphilanthus being so much loue it selfe, as he might be compar'd to be it selfe, as neere as a round glasse made of the clearest temper, and fild full of the clearest water; turne it any way, you see thorow it, yet both seeme one colour, and clearenesse in agreeing; so did the clearenesse of his loue shew through him, or was it selfe onely loue, and purely cleare, no vacant place, least turning of the glasse might make a bub­ble to appeare a change; no, he was round and true.

Poore Polarchos, hee stood like a blasted tree, the blossome of his affect [...]on killed, and withered; yet hee called to minde how hee had loued, and how shee vsed him. No more expression had this daintie Lasse giuen to her forrest Lad, then shee had made to him, but now decayed, and all her fauours dryed, and wrinckled like the last yeares [Page 297] fruite: poore Prince turnd to the lowest slauery, of Loues meanest cast-a­wayes, hee wept, while the other smil'd, the Forrester ioyning in present gaine. Amphilanthus feeding on the knowledge of his absent loues affecti­on: heere did loue play his part in diuers kinds, & made himselfe this mirth, sporting like wantons with the babye, loues of these poore prisoners. Am­philanthus pulled off his helme, and went vnto them, who with a fashio [...] not rude, nor Courtly, but fine, and ciuill receiued him; the like they did vnto Polarchos; Amphila [...]thus giuing them the welcome salutation of the first wished ioyes, being (as hee did tell them) witnesse of their vowes: they both seemd glad, that such braue witne [...]ses they had vn [...]nowne til th [...]n obtained; the Forester replying thus.

Sir, neuer could a better or a richer gift be giuen me (except her selfe) then this wish, which from you doth bring the ioy we hope to find & keep, and which two yeares affection hath ambitiously desired, now by her grant enioyed; but may it please you to grace vs with this a second honour, wee shall haue iust reason to acknowledge our poore selues your seruants, and our liues your owne to be commanded. 'Tis the manner heere that when a Nimph doth change from that strict life, to be a happy wife, if shee bee such an one, as length of time, or honor hath ingaged, shee must by two braue Knights, be brought vnto the Temple of Diana, where shee must remaine that night alone in prayers, and then cast off her weeds, and offer them: and leaue them with the Priest; the Knights then come vnto the doore, and call her, with whom she comes forth, they then do giue her to her cho­sen ma [...]e, and so conduct them to the Temple of Venus, where they are re­ceiued, and there by Himen's Priest are marryed.

This if wee may obtaine of you, so fitly come to vs, brought by that For­tune which hath made me bless'd, aptly to giue conclusion to our woes, and faire beginnings to our happinesse, you shall make vs the happiest to pray for your enioyings that euer louers had; and sure you must be one Sir, for loue shines in you. The King made answer hee would doe that kindness [...], and any other to so fine a payre; then tooke he the sweete Nimph, who now must change her name, and gaine the best, and blessedst estate. Vnto the Temple they directly went, and there without the gate a [...]tended, till the time of going in; till she must returne, which at the ringing of a little Bell, did summon them to call her; her they tooke, and Amphilanthus gaue her to her loue, wishing euen from his soule the time were come, to haue the deerest gift hee most did long for, giuen so freely to him.

Then to the other Temple straight they went, which was not farre, but in a dainty wood, this other standing in a plaine, hard by a coole, and christ­all Riuer, there she was receiued with ioy by Venus Priests, and Hymen [...] Priests came, and cloathed her in wiues weeds, and so euen laded with con­tent they left the Temple, and went to his Lodge, which was in a F [...]est, whereof he had the charge vnder the King, who loued the desarts, and those sports most of any thing, the first, and cheife cause being hi [...] affection to a Lady liuing in a Forrest, and wholy affecting that life: euery man seek [...]ng to please him, tooke the estates of Forresters on them, and so made a delight­full kind of wildnesse please them, and him, who thus enioyed pleasures, and his ends, coueting to appeare like their liuing, but the true roote of [Page 298] vertue, and good breeding shun'd sauagenes, and only made roome for a little neglectiuenes to couer them with all, so as the great men were but Cour [...]ly Forresters, and ciuill wild-men. The Lodge was a faire house built on a Hill, at the foote wherof ranne a Riuer, ouer which was a bridge; from thence they passed through a delicate walke made by Art, and at the end of that, (which still ascended) was a garden, through which they came vnto the House, furnished with furniture fit for a Court, the seruants all in greene, and in good number, shewing fellowshippe in their apparrell, but o­bedience in their fashions. There the Knights were welcom'd like them­selues, and then the braue young Forrester desired to bee so much graced, as to know their names, nor would I said hee aske this [...]auour vntill now, that you might see your seruant my selfe could entertaine you for the honours done, and to be worthier of them Ile first tell you who I am, although ap­pearing outwardly more meane.

I am the third sonne to an Earle, who is cheife Forrester vnto the Prince of this Country; this Forrest is the daintiest, and the best beloued of any by his Maiestie, being calld by him selfe his garden: this hath hee giuen mee as my charge, and heere I serue him, and doe please him well, by leading of this life; this Lady is the Daughter of a Lord, neere neighbour to this place, but being thought too worthy for me, as I must confesse they err'd not in that, though did commit high treason vnto loue, seeking to barre vs from our wished ioy, they gaue her to Diana, being then vnder the yeares which they might rule her in, shee was constrained to doe as they commanded, and was sworne a Nimph, dedicated to the chast Goddesse by her friends, but when she came of yeares, by the lawes of this Country, she might choose whether shee would continue so or no. Two yeares shee wanted of the age of free­dom [...], in which time they hop'd she would forget, and by example loue faire chastity; but she neuer ordain'd for such a dull concluding of her dayes, by the example which was shewed of stricktnes she loued freedome, for Chastity affection, and so wee met, and still increas'd our flames, till now that you were brought for our eternall good to see vs ioynd, and to knit our blisse. Now Sir I doe beseech you tell me who you are. My name (braue Sir) answered the King, is Amphilanthus, this Knight Polarchos; my Lord said hee, I humbly craue pardon for my rudenesse, yet may you the better pardon it, since but that, you could expect from wild men, and Forresters: but I haue not so liued, that your fame hath not come, and spread it selfe in­to each corner of these parts, as the sweete west-wind doth grace each flower with a kisse: so liue you honord by each hart, and lou'd as hee, who glories mankind with his excellence. The King replid, those words did shew his in­side still remaind most noble, and like so delicate a Prince he was; then hee did salute the Lady, who feasted them with all delicates, staying them two dayes, in which time the marriage was diuulged, and all his neighbour For­resters came in to ioy with him; his friends, and hers now met, were forced of all sides to shew great content.

Then Amphilanthus left them, and pass'd on toward the Campe, the braue Forrester bringing him through his command to the next towne from whence he had a guide. O loue said Amphilanthus, how pretious a Prince art thou, that thus command'st ouer all, mak'st Kings Forresters, Forresters [Page 299] Kings in happinesse, and leauest vs to trauell vp and downe neglected, roa­ming like Beggars, still asking of thee: but thy gifts are slow, and sparing, one dayes sight, or one poore houres discourse with much petition thou wilt grant mee, and to others, liues-time of comfort. Why didst thou not make me a Forrester, or a Shepheard, or any thing, so I might enioy my loue? What life would I despise to vndergoe, or danger shun, so she might like, and [...] liue in her eyes; for in her heart I know I doe, and thus am doubly grieued [...]oth for my want, and her deare, yet impatient suffering, my absence work­ing in her, as vpon my heart with sorrow for both parts. Pi [...]ie vs, great King of hearts, we will beseech and beg of thee; if not, most cruell let mee iustly call thee.

Thus pe [...]plexed hee rode, not speaking all that day to any of his compa­ [...]ie. Polarchos was content, as well with silence as the King, so they rid, as if they had vowed not to speake, or to trie how they could performe such a [...]ow, yet still did they dispute with lo [...]e, and all for loues deare sake. Many [...]leasant aduentures they passed, finding one euening a delicate Lady follow­ [...]ng a Hauke, attended, or accompanied with many braue Gentlemen, and as gentle in behauiour, as bloud, being the chiefe and principall of that Coun­ [...]rie; the Lady affecting pleasures, they louing her for that, and her fashion, which was full of spirit, sweete, and mild discourse [...] temperat and respectiue: [...]y her they passed, and so by many more such meetings; they staying no where, till they came to the skirts of Albania, where they encountred two Knights, of whom they demanded newes; they told them, that they could giue them no certaine notice of any thing, since the last battaile which was [...]ought against Plamergus, wherein he was slaine, and his onely sonne; Steria­ [...]us hauing behaued himselfe so brauely, and iudicially, as he had gotten im­mortall praise; the other kings and Princes deseruing to be eternised for their valour and iudgements.

Were you there (I pray Sir) said Amphilanthus? Yes indeed Sir, said the first, we were both there, and hardly escaped the fury of that day. How was [...]he battaile, I beseech you, said Amphilanthus? Marry Sir (said he) the place was first troublesome, and very full of disaduan [...]age to the strangers, Hilles and little Bottoms betweene them, wherein Plamergus the king of those parts had placed his men, a great Riuer before him; the bridge he had pull'd vp, leauing no possibilitie for the army to come to him; but they by meanes and aduice of Steriamus, passed the water, deuiding themselues in fiue parts, as the passages were in number.

It was Steriamus his fortune with the Italians, whose skill and valour was matchlesse, and guided by such a Commander, who did well, and best in the absence of th [...]ir Lord, not to bee resisted, he met Plamergus; Rosindy and the Macedonians encountred his sonne, the rest the other troopes; it was my happe to bee where the furious Italians met vs, but they made quicke worke with vs, running through vs, and ouer vs, as Lightning, killing as they went so fast, as I had but speede enough to runne away, not re­solution, or heart to stay, for it seemed to bee more then humaine force, or speed they came with all. Parselius with his Moreans did as brauely, An­tissius and Leandrus no lesse, and Selarinus as well.

Then got wee ouer a Hill, and ioyned with the kings sonne, who was [Page 300] fighting with Rosindy, but soone saw wee an end of him and his army; so as a­way againe we went, as if but to behold our party lost, which when I saw, and the battaile won, Trumpets sunding the retreit, we went away, resolued in my heart, neuer to draw Sword against the rightfull King. Steriamus was proclaimed King, and so by that name now is calld; but though I will not fight against him, yet I will not take his part, till I see the next encounter past, which will be more terrible, by how much the army is greater, led by brauer and stronger men, and the other army something lessned by the last, and ma­ny of their best men hurt.

How shall we gaine so much fauour of you, braue Knights, said he, as to direct vs the nearest way to them? Truly Sir (said he) by this I belieue they bee met, but if you will goe and trie your fortune, I will bring you within sight of them. He gaue him many thanks, and so he conducted them accor­ding to his promise.

Steriamus after the battaile, had cald his Commanders together, and tooke a certaine note of the number lost, and hurt in the battaile, which in compari­son was nothing to their gaine and victory. Then marched they on to­wards the second let, and King of the middle. Albania, called Pollidorus, and who was a braue man for courage and force, Antissius gaining the honour to leade the Vantgard, as it was at first granted him, but altred by reason of the place to fight in. With great courage they march on, and with as much re­solution the other attend them; for except strengths were equall, no glorie by victorie can b [...] esteem'd.

The strange Knight performed his promise, and brought the King with his friend to a great Lakes side, the armies being on the other side, he desired to passe that, and to bee able to assist (if neede were), the Knight then guided him by the bankes of it, and brought him to a hedge, wherein were many high trees which shadowed them well; they standing vp to the bodies of them, there they saw the charge giuen: but as he was be­holding them, another Knight was seene by him on the other side of the hedge, wearing his owne Colours; whereupon Amphilanthus demanded of him, who he was, and to what end he stood close in that manner. To see the battaile, replide he, and to doe as you doe, spare my selfe from fighting. It may be, said Amphilanthus, wee doe the better, since there is no iesting (as they say) with those Ladds. Tis not for feare I assure you (said hee) that I am not among them. I belieue that (answered Amphilanthus) nor is that the cause of my being here, but to see what seruice I may doe my friends if occasion serue, else stand as I doe. The better and the nobler side (said the other, will hardly want your company, or mine, vnlesse wee were able to equall their valours, which I make doubt of.

It were modestly spoken of your selfe (said Amphilanthus), but if I bee not mistaken, you might haue had better manners, then to compare those together which you know not. Why? what chollerick Knight are you, said hee, that takes this exception, Parselius, Rosindy, Steriamus, Selarinus, Leandrus and Dolorindus, besides the braue King of Romania being there: but since you now know who I meane, I must bee satisfied by you, who you are, that dare compare with them. I make no comparisons with them, but only answer you, wherefore tell me your name, and I will satisfie you with the like, and [Page 301] something else to make you know, curteous answers better [...]ir Knights. I am not said he, ashamed of my name, therefore know, I am Philarchos of Metilin, newly from thence come to serue my friends. I see (answered the King) that your extreme affection rather mooued your care and haste, then ill nature, therefore pardon me, and take this satisfaction for the other, which I threat­ned, that Amphilanthus loues Philarchos, and will be his seruant. With that they both saluted with such loue, as Cosins ought to beare one to another, and such who were so like, as they were. Then stood they ready to behold what happned, which was this. Antissius with his troopes charged the ene­my, but they were led by a young man, who rather rash then valiant, came with such violence against them, as he disordered the ranck, and brake Antis­sius order, whereupon their men were in routs, and Antissius in some danger, whereupon the three Knights ran in, and rescued him, Amphilanthus figh­ting, while Philarchos remounted Antissius.

Then came to them twenty thousand, led by Leandrus, which were en­countred by as many, led by the Kings fauourite, who was Martiall of his Kingdome. The two Commanders met, and Leandrus was vnhorsed, whom Amphilanthus (killing first the Martiall) againe mounted, and told him, hee was sorry Pamphilias seruant had so ill fortune. He knew his voice, and re­plide, that the honor was greater, to bee aided by him, then if he had kept his horse, and won the day; these men shroudly set to, so as the braue Princes stood at last all on foote, like the towers of a mighty Castle, the rest of the wals ruind, and throwne downe: so the dead bodies lay round about them in rude heapes. Then came vp the rest of the Albanian army in grosse, which Steri­amus perceiuing, went downe with all the forces and Princes. The encoun­ter was terrible betweene them. Rosindy came with some horse, and helped the other fiue to fresh horse, and so together charged in, but such was their force and cunning, compassing their enemy, and charging on all sides, as they brake them, and put them in the like disorder, they had brought that part, which Antissius had: all braue men, all equally resolued to fight for victorie, resolutely made proofe of their wills and powers, as had not the last three, come in happy time, the victorie had been doubtfull.

Twise Amphilanthus was vnhorsed, by the death of his horses, and once helped by Rosindy, whō he requited in a greater measure (though almost the same kind) taking him from vnder his horses belly, ready to be smotherd by the multitude, that were pressing on him; the other time hee was furnished with a Horse, which Selarinus brought him; he saued Parselius and Ste­riamus besides from death, one hauing his Helme strooke off, hee coue­ring him with his Sheild, till a new one was brought him. The other hee rescued from many mens hands, hauing broke his Sword. Antissius hee horsed, and many braue acts hee did, so as all attributed the happi­nesse of that dayes Victory (which then was gained) to him, who vn­knowne, they came to salute, but hee not willing to hide himselfe from them, besides wanting ayre quickly discouered himselfe; then, if any en­uy were in them before to the deseruing stranger, when Amphilanthus was the man, all was rooted out, and supplanted by true affection to him.

The Princes of Italy, and his souldiers were ouer-ioyed at their Kings [Page 302] arriuall, and rauished with his magnanimous valour and courage: then the Trumpets were sounded, and all retyred to a Plaine close by, keeping the field that night to witnesse their Conquest. The King was taken aliue, but hurt to death, dying within fiue dayes after, but hee heard Steriamus againe proclaimed by the Army, as a salue for his wounds. This was a sharpe and terrible fight, wherefore they went to the next Towne, which was the chiefe, and yeelded to their force: there they rested their men and them­selues, neuer an one hauing escaped without some hurt or other: the Vsur­per died, and was buried.

When all were refre [...]hed, they began to thinke of marching forwards, and the two Knights which had guided Amphilanthus, vndertooke to bee the guides to the Army, putting themselues dutifully and affectionately vnder Steriamus, seruing him with all loyaltie. Amphilanthus and Selarinus with as much comfort, as absence could afford them, got by themselues, to giue ac­count to each other of their passions; for none else were made fortunate to know their sufferings, nor did Amphilanthus for all his trust in him, impart his Mistrisses name, holding that too deare, euen for his friend to heare. Into a Garden they went, but that, because the chiefe windowes of the house were vpon it, was thought not priuate enough, they went into an Orchard beyond it, in which was a place raised with three ascents like, a triple Crowne, the trees being Orange and Lemond trees, then in their pride, hauing blossoms, vnripe, and ripe fruite vpon them. In the midst of this place was a stone, not vnlike a Tombe of red Marble, as high from the ground, as a large chest, and of that proportion; round about it, or better to say, on three full sides incom­passed with Ciprus; on the other side was a Ring of Gold, as if to open the Tombe, like the Ring to a Latch.

The amorous Kings sat downe vpon it, being so inriched with their pas­sions, as other thoughts were too meane for them to suffer. Amphilanthus relating the blessed content he felt in his fortunate enioying, truly and affecti­onately discouering the expresse knowledge of her loue, by the sincerest ex­pression made vnto him, and such, as Selarinus grew to be iealous hee should neuer compasse; for it seemd vnpossible, that any more then one woman could bee so excellent and perfect a louer. As hee was ready to make reply in that kind, they heard a voice (as if within the Tombe) bring forth some words, which made them at the first hearing it, start vp, afraid of discouerie, or as if troubled that they had hurt her; the speech betraying the heart to suffer excessiuenesse in misery.

Vnfortunate woman (said it) that cannot die, hauing such occasion. Is it possible deare Tombe, that thou canst hold, and inclose my woes, yet keepe them safe in thee, and with the multitudes of them? at last conclude my griefe, let my sorrowes swell against themselues in iustest rage, and with their furies choke my breath that serues to speake them, and to bee drawne contrary to my onely desires, to saue my weary and afflicted life; tedious, vn­pleasing time, finish thy labour, and my woes, let this bee my last minute of vnquietnesse, redeeme me from the cruell slauery of liuing, and bring mee to the excellent libertie of dying; for how can life be pleasing, when Polidorus is not? My dearest, and alone deare Lord, I know that thou art dead, else were I fetched by thee, to ioy with thee, where as now I remaine in my li­uing [Page 303] death. Would I did know the truth, then might I giue thee my last farewell, and with that ioyne my soule with thine, but twixt these violent de­spaires how am I tortured?

Then was shee quiet a little space, while they perused the place: but long continued she not so, like to women spinning, staid but to fasten the thread to begin againe to turne, and twine her sorrowes: but now she had spun them into Rime, like the Swan in a most weeping Verse: they hearing her, stayd from the releasing her out of the Tombe, till she had said her Verses, being these.

[Page 304]Yet loue thus binds me euen vnto my death, and welcomest were [...] that, might I obtaine it, but yet that must not bee. What ioy did I euer know? yes I did loue vnknowne, then knowne enioyed; enioyed, how long? the quarter of the time I lou'd in vaine, and that poore quarter how oft cross'd, afflicted, and tormented with all varyeties of paines? yet my deere Lord thou euer wert most kind, and so true louing, as one death is too too little now to haue for thee, although a wasting lingring end. Would tenne times more I might beare, so thou wert fafe; vnfortunate, but brauest Prince to bee embraced in such a busines, where not only honours, Crowne, possessi­ons, but thy life, must bee a sacrifice, vnto the pleasure of two young men.

My sweetest loue, thou must bee the poore Lambe, offered for others faults. O my deere Polidorus, thou didst merit fame, and loue, not trouble, and reuenge; thou didst not erre, but if thy Father did, must his sinnes lye on thee, and thou be punished for his pride? yet deere thou hast required my best loue, and made prouision for thy other selfe, for after thee, none should ere haue had my loue, since with thee it ought to haue, as first creation, lasting buriall, and that assurance thou hast giuen: but keepe thy promise, which was, if with victory thou didst returne to bring mee vnto thee, if thou wert killd, to be brought vnto mee, that in this vault we might haue our graues, and that red Marble serue for such a Tombe, as might best [...]it [...]esse, blood did cause our ends. Thou art ore-throwne, I find it deere, and hindred I am, confident else, none could keepe thee from remembring thy poore loue; but if thou wert so hindred, cursed be the causers, and my Desteny, to barre my last enioying of my best lou'd Lord, & let those neuer ioy in happines of loue that be the parters of our bodyes; a poore gift it had b [...]ene to giue a chosen graue, alas he must be buried, and if so, where easier, and with lesser paines, or fitter then with her, that liues to dye, when shee's certaine what becomes of him? D [...]ere Polidorus, heere I liue to thy deere memory, feed on the sweetest word thou gauest mee when we parted, but will liue no longer then thy end bee knowne to mee. If thou beest liuing quickly come to me, if dead, assoone the tydings, then shall I witnes my con­ [...]ant woe, and pay to thee what thou deseruedst, and only vnto thee will I commend my loue, and dying paines; others to others yeeld their last made [...]ows, my first, and last were dedicated, and so giuen to thee, and thus a dy­ing life doe I continue in, till thou or thine release me vnto thee.

When she had ended these lamentable speeches, they tryed to open the Chest, which easily they did; she seeing it open, her heart euen opened with it, as embracing the ioy her loued Lord should bring her, ready as it were to take, or loue, or death, equally fit for either; the place by opening, being fit to be discouered, they found the stone to be like an vpper box in a Cabinet lesser then the other, but part of it as the light to the ancient Halls in Princes houses: but this was darke; the lower part was a bed of gold, vpon which she lay; her apparell a Roabe of purple, imbrodered as the Kings Roabes vse to be, vnder that a petticoate, or round kirtle of Crimson; her armes, fingers, and necke, adorn'd with the richest Iewels; her buskins were of white, laced vp with Rubies, her hayre comb'd downe, and a Crowne of infinite valew on her head; a Scepter in her hand, which at the opening [Page 305] of the Tombe she cast downe, raysing her selfe a little vp, and throwing her armes abroad, ready to welcome her heart vnto her, as if before gone thence. The sudden light to so much darkenesse, at the first daseled her eyes, but when she recouer'd and saw in stead of Polidorus, two strangers, she crossed her armes, lay downe againe, seeming so like a dead body, as they were a­fraid, they had but heard a voyce which caused their search, but that she had beene dead, that spirit which shee once had, had guided them to her. But soone were they put beyond that amazednes by her speech. If said she, you be of Polidorus seruants, directed by him to bring me his death, quickly giue me mine likewise, and then most welcome, or doe but fauour me so much, as to shut me vp againe; this is the Throne, and Tombe which I must haue, and only will enioy.

The Kings, whose hearts were mollified with loue, were so tempered to pitty, as they were not able to know what to doe, but gazed on her, who appeard the most peerelesse Tombe their eyes had euer beheld, and the strangest; they saw shee lay still, like her owne monument curiously cut. A­las said Amphilanthus, what comfort can a victory bring, that finds such a conclusion to accompanie it selfe with all: A victory cryd shee, then raised she her sweete saddest selfe a little on one arme; I beseech you both, or either said she, bee so charitable to tell me the truth, they loath to tell her what must bring her death, yet still besought, and that implor'd with teares, they look'd on one another, sigh'd, and with their eyes intreated each to speake; at last braue Amphilanthus as kind, as excellent in all other vertues gaue these words.

Madam said he, to obay you, whom we must after sue to for a fauour, I will discouer that, which my soule, (as for you, doth grieue for.) The Army is ouerthrowne, and your beloued Lord, who wee haue heard you so much speake of [...] slaine, said shee, I see it in your face, though you will not in pitty speake it. Charitable Sir, how am I bound to you? but I beseech you, add one fauour more vnto your first, and then an other as the last to that, where is his body? Laid said he in the cheife Church among the other Kings, by Steriamus owne command. It was an noble act of him said shee, whom Heauens protect for it, mercy in Conquerors being as excellent as their for­tunes: the last request Ile make Sir is this, that by your fauours I may bee layd by him, since I will not aske to haue him brought to mee, I am [...] and was his wife, deerely beloued of him, and heere for safety, and by mine owne petition left by him. I was Daughter to a King, the vnfortunate Plamergus, but my greatest happinesse I euer gloryed in, was his true loue, lay me then braue Sir, with my Lord, and only deere Polidorus, and thus my deere, my soule to thine doth flye.

Amphilanthus did beseech, Selarinus weept to her; all would not serue, shee stretched her selfe straight out, and by curious Art laid her selfe forth, fit to be carryed to her buriall, dying as if the word dead had kild her; ex­cellent griefe, and most excellent strength of passion, that can bring so reso­lute, and braue an end. The Kings then chang'd their discourse from loue to sorrow; they stayed by her, seeking all meanes to recouer her, but find­ing she was gone, and so all hope of life in her, they went into the Court, where they found the King new risen from Councell, and all his Princes, [Page 306] and Lords about him. He went to meete them, but seeing such sorrow in their faces, wondred, and a little feard, but soone he was brought out of that, they telling him the cause, and sad aduenture. Then he sent for the Guard, who had kept the late King Polidorus, of whom he vnderstood, how he with teares intreated to be laid in a Tombe made by himselfe in the Orchard; but they, though he besought them to goe to the Conqueror, (as he calld Steri­amus) and beseech that honor from hīm, to performe a vow which hee had made, they vnwilling to busie themselues, fearing to distast the King, had neuer let his last request be knowne; some said they thought his wounds, and paines of them, had made him raue, others, that being dead, what mat­ter was it where his body lay? comparing him vnto himselfe, who being gone said he, what care I where my body is bestowed? But these things Ste­riamus liked not, being so infinitely offended with them [...] as had it beene a fault, they might haue dyed for, they had surely payd their liues for such neglect, but not ascending to that height, he banished them, hating neglect to any creature dying, imagining his soule that dyes vnsatisfied, must part with trouble from the body, and for that was grieued; and this Iustice did he vnto loue, for which, loue must be iust to him.

Then made he Proclamation for their banishment; and straight himselfe went with the whole assembly of Kings, and Princes fetching her, and went as the cheife mourner with her, weeping to her graue; the other Kings did carry her, and were as they thought, honourd with the waight of such worth, and constancy, she seeming on their shoulders like her Ef [...]gie, carry­ed to her owne Funerall. The Tombe was graced that night with her ly­ing on it, the next morning with solemne state opened, and she layd by her Lord; this noble act did Steriamus as the first in Albania, & the beginning to his famous life. This being past, and a Commander left in that towne, which was the chiefe seate of the Kings of those parts, and from whence all the Auncesters tooke their claime, the new and rightfull King, marched a­gaine towards the third king, guided by his new seruants, and followed with many great men of Albania, who like the world ranne with the streame of Fortune, and left the ouerthrowne party, as soone as it was made miserable with that knowledge. Antissius had had his time for leading: Lea [...]drus now desired to haue the next; it was granted him, and so they marched; Amphilanthus, now in the head of his owne troups, Steriamus hauing a Guard of them, next his person, as their Country woman guarded his hea [...]t safe from hurt, or change: the Albanians next to them, which were in number that went forth with him after the two victories as many as were lost, so the Army was of the same bignesse, as when it came into Albania. Perissus after hee had left Neraena in all her rages for his neglect, yet saluing it, as desirous to deceiue her selfe, with saying that the danger hee found him selfe in of change, to his first, and only loue, made him for feare leaue her, not being able to withstand her power in loue; but hee in the contrary part pittying her, and weary of her frantique discourse left her, and with flue hundred Knights tooke Shipping, landing in Epirus, where he mette the glad tydings of the victoryes, and winning Princes: then hasted he, gui­ded by many, euery one desirous to doe seruice to him, or them that came to serue their King; he passed on quietly, for there was no resistance, but [Page 307] desirous to bee with them, he commanded the rest of his trayne to come with more leasure after him, he posting away only with his Squire, and two guids. As he rid, it was his chance to meete two armed men, and two Squires, carying each of them a great Sword, and Speare, they came to him with these words.

Sir said they we be two young Princes, sons to the Duke of Corinthia, de­ [...]irous we are of Knighthood, but such hath our fortunes beene, as not be­ing able to gaine it as we desired, we resolued to take this course, and from the first Knights hands we met, (that was fit to giue it vs) to demand it; you looke like such an one, wherefore from you we require it, yet wee beseech you, tell vs who we shall haue it from. My name said he, it may be, will ra­ther make me seeme vuworthy of the honor you offer mee, being scarce knowne in these parts, yet because you so ciuilly desire the knowledge of it, you shall haue it, I am Perissus of Sicily; That name said they is come with wonder to our eares, and happinesse to vs to gaine this honor from so royall hands; then lighting all on the ground Perissus tooke their swords, and girt them to them, putting on their Spurrs, and so finishing their Knighthood, kiss'd them, being two delicate, and louely youths.

Now Sir said they, let vs beseech one honor more from you, which is to [...]un one course with each of vs, not that we will seeme vngratefull for this fa­uour, but only to see what wee may bee able to doe against you before wee fall, since that wee are to encounter the brauest man of the World, as hee is esteemed, and for that cause we demanded Knighthood.

Truly (said Perissus) I should bee wonderfull loath to harme you, so much I affect you; but first tell mee who that braue man is, and if hee bee none of my best friends, I will serue you against him. That wee doe not desire (said they) for hee hauing kild our father, wee must reuenge it our selues, or die in the quarrell; therefore wee beseech you first, let vs bee graced for our first triall to runne with you, and wee shall esteeme it a hap­pinesse, though throwne by you: but to satisfie you, the Knight which wee must fight with, is Amphilanthus, who comming to my fathers house, vsed himselfe so insolently, as he a graue man could not like it, boasting of what gaine he had of the honours of Ladies, in that dishonouring many, one a­mongst that number being the Princesse of Stiria, a Lady my father honored much, and was his Neece, whose honor he could not leaue touched vnreuen­ged. But he ancient, the other strong and young, got the better so much, as he slew my father: we being then too young to carrie armes (for is is three yeeres since we were with poore & miserable patiēce, forced to be at quiet). Now we haue trauelled, halfe a yeare wee haue spent to find some worthy Prince, at last by storme were cast on shore in this Country, where we heard of these braue warres, & now we were going to receiue the honor from one of those Kings, and straight to challenge Amphilanthus, who we heare is there. Truly (said Perissus) you haue vndertaken a very hard task, but I pray tell me what manner of man is that Prince you speak of. He is, said he, much of your stature, faire, and curled haire hee hath, and in troth such an one, as may well win Ladies, and such is his fame, as wee desire to die by his hand, for wee cannot hope to ouercome him. To this end said Perissus, you shall excuse mee from running with you, and assure your selues, you are [Page 308] infinitly mistaken in him, for the true Amphilanthus is neither of the stature nor complexion you speake of, but as excellent a creature, as can, or hath beene framed by Nature, free from these things, hee is accused of, there­fore be perswaded by me, goe into the Army with me, if when you see him it prooue to bee hee, I will then not onely fulfill your desire in this, but bring you to call him vnto account; yet trust me on my honour it is not he, for he is as wise as valiant, and iust as wise.

Thus satisfied they ridd together towards the Army, which then was marching, and making hast to the third encounter, which was to bee had with Nicholarus, an other partaker of Albania's miserie, and Steriamus iniury.

As they rode, Perissus thinking of his Limena, the two young Knights of nothing more then how to attaine to some encounter to trye their va­lour, it was one of their chances (being the elder, and riding neerer a wood side then the others did) to heare two within discoursing in this manner.

I wonder said the one, that Amphilanthus, the worthyest, brauest Prince for all noble vertues should let ingratitude liue in him, (a thing I haue so often heard him despise) especially to a Lady, who (as by her letter you may see) for his sake hath refused all matches offered her, wholly reser­uing her selfe for him, now to forsake her, and not onely so, but in her sight striuing to let her see her losse, and to vse her with such scorne, as her affe­ction is forced to change loue to a friend, to an enemy; Yet to moue me to reuenge her, who am most bound vnto him, I more maruell at; for hee onely hath set my Crowne vpon my head.

Must I be made to fight with him, who fought for mee? Shall I seeke to take that life from him, which was so willingly and brauely ventur'd to keepe mine? Or to make mine fortunate; from a Run-away and poore Fisher-boy he made me a King, for one whose head was at sale, he brought a Crowne vnto it, and royall dignity to the poorest Subiect. Shall I (I say) turne against this man, as if the longer I knew vertue, the more I should dislike it? No Antissia, loue is full of variety in Passions, and many false conceits will arise; which, when discouered, sorrow is the period, but repentance may follow this.

Besides, Loue tells me I must loue these Kings, else how shall I obtaine my wished blessing to enioy sweet Selarina; but indeed truth saies, I must not be vnthankefull. I would venture farre for thy good sweet Antissia, and preferre thy gaine equall with mine owne, but neither must make me vn­gratefull. From Amphilanthus I haue got my life, and fortune, to him they both belong, and they shall be payed to serue him, not to offend him, my Sword to attend him, not to hurt him. Shall this bee requitall for his last care of me in the battaile against Polidorus, where he rescued me, and hors'd me againe? That had beene enough to winne respect, and truth in loue, both together set as obligations neuer to be broken, nor shall bee touched by me. I loue my Aunt well, but my honour more; then must she pardon me, I will not fight with him for her. Amphilanthus, reply'd the other, hath beene so blessed with fortune, as hee hath obliged the best to bee his seruants by his fauours done them; who liues of all these Princes in the Army, that hath not (at some one time or other) directly taken their liues from him; the brauest hee hath saued, and the valiantest [Page 309] rescued, my poore selfe released from cruell, close, and dangerous imprison­ment. These I consider and allow, but then comes loue, and tells me, he must be obeyed, my vow vnto your Aunt commandeth me, and that I must ob­serue; she wills me to kill Amphilanthus, and then she will marry mee. And this you wil attempt, said Antissius? Attempt, win or die in it, said Dolorindus. You must first begin with me, said Antissius, if you bee resolute in it, and will suffer the canker, ingratitude, to rule: but thinke againe; for rather had I do any reasonable matter, then breake friendship with you, yet rather that, then where I am so infinitely bound, and more contentedly die thus, then liue to haue a thought to hurt that Prince. I loue Antissia, said he, yet must I consent to withstand you, since you leaue the due respect to Antissia, which bloud and her affection to you may claime, it frees me who loued you most for her sake; nay it commands, and threatens me; wherefore I am ready to encoun­ter you first.

As they were going to venture an end to their liues, two Knights more arriued, and seeing them ready to fight, stepped in betweene them. They furious, and inraged with their let, demanded who they were. I am, said one of them, Ollorandus: and I, said the other, Amphilanthus. With that Dolo­rindus turnd on him; And you (said he) are the man I looked for: with that they fell to blowes, his Companion did the like, but Antissius a little paused, and hauing asked a question or two more of him, was assured by his voyce and gesture, it was not his friend Ollorandus. Dolorindus so furious, as his senses had left him to ignorance of voice or knowledge. Then hoping the other was that counterfet Amphilanthus, he willingly entertained the com­bat, which was sharpe. Dolorindus did well, but had the worse; for how could it other be, that name being enough to vanquish without force. Hee fell, and his enemy being ready to cut off his head, the braue Perissus came to the young Knight, who had heard all this, and stepped in; Nay Amphilan­thus said he, hold your hands, here is another hath as much to say to you for [...]illing his father, Prince of Carinthia.

He remembred that, and hee turned vnto him, and a new fight began, wherein the young Knight did so well (helped too a little by his enemies wearinesse, the which gaue aduantage to him, who had otherwise been too hard for him) as hee brought him to the like passe Dolorindus was in: but when hee had him thus, lesse fauour was shewed in more speed, for hee had got off his Helme and Head, before helpe could come in, although Perissus hearing the name, made all the meanes hee could to saue his life for names sake onely, hee came to heare the young Prince say, Farewell Amphilanthus, I am now reuenged of thee; and I, said Antissius for the abominable treason, in taking such Princes names vpon you. The Prince of Carinthia held the head in his hand, which when Perissus saw, hee was sorry, because it had c [...]rried that name, but could not but much praise Fortune, who had so cun­ningly wrought the satisfaction to the Princes, the punishment for false­hood, and the reuenge of loue. They tooke vp Dolorindus, who was woun­ded with shame, as much as with the Sword, weakenesse from fury getting place; he wept, and petitioned for fauour from Antissius, hee confest his fault to be fouler then sinne.

Antissius replied, he must first satisfie Amphilanthus, then he should answer [Page 310] him. Hee vowed neuer to fight with him. The braue young King told him, hee was contented with that, so he submitted to the king of the Romans, and that should be the satisfaction he would take. Perissus in the meane time had gotten the slaine Knights Squires to him, to be resolu'd of this cosenage; they had not full knowledge of it, but the other Knight not being dead, hee coniu­red him to relate it, and why? to haue as he told him the happinesse to end in more quiet, when hee might with a clearer conscience depart. Hee yeelded vnto him, and made a true and plaine confession to him in this man­ner.

My friend (said hee) being in loue with the excellent Princesse of Croatia, neither hauing meanes by estate to gaine her, nor hope to win her by his loue or seruice, she hauing resolu'd to loue none but Amphilanthus, loue hauing conquerd an vnusuall way on her, when only fame, not sight, or knowledge, but by reports had grounded such an affection in her. Hee obtained to know where that braue Prince remained, hee was certified, that he was in a search for a Sister of his, some time vnheard of. In this vnlucky season hee tooke his name vpon him; after hearing of his Companion, Ollorandus, hee inioyned me to take his name likewise on me; truly I must confesse it was an vnexcusable fault, and the greater, because those names, especially his, was so honored, as wheresoeuer we passed, we had our owne wills. Knights refused to combat with vs, Ladies soone yeelded, belieuing they ought not to refuse what hee demanded, who commanded all hearts. I also had my share in this pleasure, as now in death. He won the Princesse of Croatia, left her af­terwards, keeping the same name, finding such sweetnes in it: but now being here, and the true Amphilanthus his fame [...]lourishing for his incomparable glory, we purposed not to tarry, knowing it would prooue too hot a busines for vs, if once it came to his eares. Wherefore we made what haste we could to get to the Sea, and so meant to leaue these parts to his true light, and carry a few flashes with vs in farther remote places. Into great Brittany we meant to passe, but now are stayd by your force, we were Gentlemen of noble hou­ses, but such hath been our ill liuing, as I desire for him, and my selfe we may be priuately buried here, neuer more enquired after, nor if you please to fa­uour your owne worth so much henceforth mentioned, letting our shames die, and be inclosed in the earth with vs.

Perissus promised to fulfill some of those requests, the rest were not in his power, such a businesse depending vpon their knowledge, as the reconci­ling of such Princes. There they were buried, and the three Kings tooke their way to a little house in the Wood, where they more freely discussed of the matter, which was this.

Antissia after her returne, filled with hate in stead of loue, neuer left plot­ting for reuenge, till this came (as often it doth in her sexe) into her mind; whereupon she writ to her Nephew; but if that failed, shee trusted on her seruant, and therefore likewise did she write to him: a letter from her was a comfort sufficient, but a command, his honour, and happinesse. This was the cause, and nothing but death would satisfie her, as at that time her furie was nothing being so reuengefull as a forsaken woman, shame like loue pro­uoking her; and that he freely granted her, though it had fallen out to be his owne to haue paid her.

[Page 311] Antissius mistrusting as much by his distemper, led him foorth of the Towne to this place: the same day the Army marched thence toward Nicolarus; there they had remained till Perissus his finding them; Antissius striuing to diswade Dolorindus persisting in his resolution, which had end by this adventure. They stayed there till he was some­thing recouered, in which time the Sicilians arriued with whom they all followed the Army, but Dolorindus afflicted doubly left them to their will, hee following a course to redeeme his honor quenched. They arri­uing found the Kings ready to giue battell, the Army was ordered before their comming, wherefore those troops stood by them selues to watch when they might assist, and not trouble them.

Antissia after shee had fedde her selfe with this fury, was more then satisfied, for Enuy being a little appeas'd, shee came to her good nature againe, or loue, or feare, or, and indeed all passions, whirling about like a wheele they draw wye [...] out with all: so drew shee painefull thoughts, longer then before, lengthned, with dispaire; for now said shee, wretched Antissia, what hope can be so flattering, as to shew it selfe in any colour like it selfe to helpe thee? Amphilanthus must for euer hate thee, and all his friends dispise thee. Thou hast engaged a louing King, who will (I am assured) bee so oreruled by thy commands as hee will loose his life for thee.

How can N [...]gropont forgiue mee? but most I haue offended mine owne Country deere Romania, in seeking to make thee a widdow by loo­sing her King, who if hee meete Amphilanthus in the field, is sure to dye for it; if not, yet haue I sought to murther his honor, in desiring to make him vngratefull: either way I am a Traytor to my Country, and deserue the sharpest punishment. Yet I hope they will consider what vnquiet passi­ons may produce, and like men, haue stayder iudgments about them, then on my request to indanger themselues, or let their honors perish for my wil. This hope pleaseth me, but now againe, I doubt; O fond Antissia, wic­ked Antissia, to let so vilde a thought inhabit in thee: it had beene too much to bee nourished, and brought to the ripenesse of so much mis­chiefe.

Alas sweetest Pamphilia, how maist thou curse me, for hauing a thought to hurt thy loue? much more to plot his ruine, and so thine in his; yet thou art the cause; for had hee not changed from me to thee, all had been safe, yet I may wrong thee this way too: how know I that hee loued mee first, may it not bee, that hee did loue thee long before I saw Morea? His fashion at the first encounter 'twixt you, when wee came to Mantinea, ex­pressed a deare respect, and familiar loue, then I wrong'd thee, to purchase him. If from thee he did change, the blame is there, and I aske pardon for it; but pardon cannot bee, where so much ill remaines.

What shal I do most miserable creature, wretched beyond all women, and not fit to liue? How euer businesses passe, thou art a meere shame to thy sex, and the disgrace of louers. Die cruel Antissia, and abuse not this place with thy vild liuing in it. How can this earth beare without swallowing thee vp? consi­dering that he brought quiet peace, the blessing of a Country vnto it. But thy hate is such to me, as thou wilt not let mee lodge within thee, but rather [Page 312] doth cast mee out, like the worst weeds, to ease thy selfe of the poyson I am fild'd withall, and to expose me to the end, wor [...]t serpents are brought to, which ought to be destroyed, least they infect the earth; and should I bee slaine for my venomous practice, and haue no buriall, I were iustly vsed, who could not bury a little losse without the graue were lined with mur­ther.

A little losse said I, noe sure it is the greatest; yet loue should still be loue, & not let malice be the Hyaena to so sweet a Prince. Perplexed wretch, what shall I doe? wander away? abide not heere for shame, the ayre cannot af­ford thee breath, the grownd rest, nor thine owne lost selfe quiet. Curs'd be thy dayes, and thou the most accursed soule liuing; end, or be transformed to miserie it selfe, and be any thing rather then Antissia. Sought I to make Antissius vngratefull? curs'd was the act, and I accursed in it. Would I haue D [...]lorindus kill Amphilanthus? why did not that desire murther, or indeed iustly execute me? Hate is aboue all, and highlyest to be hated, and if that to be misprized, what must the Nurse bee that nourished it? As a mother of a braue good sonne, is reuerenced, and sought: so may I be hated, and shun'd for this birth. Romania I am a Traitor to thee, thou canst not but abhor me. I am guilty, accuse my selfe, and know what thou must doe in Iustice to bee reuenged on me. I will flye from thee, and euer blame my selfe. Then went she downe out of her chamber, taking to the walke she had describ'd to Am­philanthus, and Pamphilia, there shee walked like a hurt Deere, staying no where, vexed, and tormented, thinking stirring, and running would helpe, but all proou'd contrary, she must yeeld to her hurt, and lye downe with her harme. There she pass'd vp and downe till a boat came in: she asked of what place they were; they said of Metelin: when they returnd, they an­swer'd instantly when they had vnladed. In conclusion, shee agreed with them, and so return'd better quieted, because businesse employed her. She was now resolu'd to goe, who to take with her she must thinke of, what man­ner to goe in, what prouision to carry with her. These employd her wits, so as shee grew to be a little pacified, and these things to put the other out of minde, at least the mindes trouble with perpetuall vexation. But when she was ready to take her iourney, many great Ladies came to visit her, as if sent to hinder her; she tooke it so, and although a Princesse who loued noble conuersation, yet comming vnwished for, it now perplexed her; her iudge­ment commanded, and she entertained them, discharged her Bark, and staid with them. Her sorrow she couer'd, or masked, with the absence of her Nephew; but Lucenia was one, and one bred in Loues Schoole, she knew her paine, and the cause of it, and wrought so well on it, as she had what shee came for, and left Antissia, a more vnquiet woman then shee found her [...] adding to the aptnesse of her amorous nature, correcting her thoughts, and making dangerous additions to her passion; if one womans hate bee harmefull, what must two bee, and specially two such? for she had meri­ted [...]ll, though Lucenia reuenged not.

Amphilanthus I pittie thee, who for all noble parts oughtest to be admi­red, and a [...]t reuerenced of all, being matchlesse in all vertues, except thy lo [...]e; for inconstancy, was, and is the onely touch thou hast, yet can I not say, but thou art constant to loue; for neuer art thou out of loue, but variety [Page 313] is thy staine, yet least is that blame of any, were not perill to ensue, plots laid to destroy thee, yet wilt thou passe them all, and be thy selfe; Women are ominous to thee, shunne them, and loue her firmely who onely loueth thee.

Her secret iourney, or pilgrimage thus put by, she remain'd like a Nettle, hardly scaping the weeders hand, but growing on, turnes to seede, and from thence springs hundreds as stinging: so did she, (scaping out of good Natures corrections) ouergrowe by enuious absence, to the seeding plenty of all mischiefes growth, Now she commends her first action, prayes for the proceeding: loues Dolorindus if hee performes her command, vowes hatred to him if hee attempt it not, and so farre it spread it selfe, as when she confessed him too weake to encounter her Loue-growne-enemy, she suf­fered Treason to say he ought to be employed, and that hee should reuenge her wrong, so as she was so farre from fearing his harme, as she [...]tudied waies how to harme him, & hauing found them, wished them al presenting them­selues before Dolorindus, that he might chuse the most mischeuing, & most speeding hurt for him. Sometime Lucenia staid with her, and so bewitched her with her witty person now, as she would returne with her; vertuous friendship neuer linked so fast, as those conditions tied themselues together, and all employd against the worthiest man the earth carried, the true summe for excellent light of his time, and for whose sake the Sunne would hide himselfe, in griefe hee could not shine so bright as his glory did; Fame spreading like his beames about him, rich, faire, cleare, and hott equally, and surpassing him,

Lucenia and Antissia knew this, this encreased loue to breed enuy, and malice, because they enioyed him not, and so in the end, all his vertues were but waies for their ill to trauell in, the more to hate him; for, the brauer they confessed him, the greater worth to be in him, the fuller happinesse shee was blest with that held his loue, made them to see their losse, and as from twilight to Sunne rising they increased in fury, and so built their ill, vpon his excellent deseruings; thus may goodnesse be a ground to ill, and thus wrought they. They that before heard not his name without heart-leaping, now with scorne to thinke that cruell thought of being left, his remem­brance is with cursings as with prayers, with blames as with ioyes, and all chang'd like Snow to durty water, wherein they drown'd their amorous thoughts, and brought forth cutting Sedges of hatred against the exquisite Prince, springing out of the foule mud of their deuilish dispositions. At last it was agreed on, that if he escaped from their hands, hee should be in­uited, or trayned thither, (being assured of the secret car [...]iage of their plo [...]s) and to some other place where they might haue their ends. Enuy, what canst thou bring forth more in abundance, then the richest roote of good­nesse? like a staulke on which diuerse colours, and seuerall flowers grow: not like a pure Lilly of chaste, and vertuous loue. Pamphilia in this flouri­shed, who longed for nothing but power, or meanes to expresse her loue by; She now in her Country, alone spent her time as a faithfull louer doth, neuer but thinking of him, calling all delightfull times they had enioyed, to mind, ioying in them, as in blessings, neuer thinking of blessednes, but when shee might thinke of seeing him; to which end, and to couer her longing with some probable occasion of bringing her neerer to him, shee calld her [Page 314] people, and after she had gained their consents for a iourney to visite her a­ged father, being mooued vnto it, both by reason of his weaknesse, and the de [...]ire he had once to see all his children together, which hee should doe, at their returne from Albania; be [...]ides to meete her mo [...]t honord friend, the widdow Queene of Naples, whom in many yeares she had not seene; these were faire motiues, had there not beene a fayrer, and more deere one, which darkned these with the greater light of loue.

Well, she prepares for the iourney in infinite pompe, she goes attended on by the best of the Kingdome; a graue, and good Councell she left behind her, to gouerne in her absence. As she was ready to Shippe, there arriued Orilena, of purpose come to visit her, but finding her ready to leaue Pam­philia, she consented to accompany her into Morea. As they sayled, all their discourse was of loue, Orilena being as fit a companion as might bee for the sad Queene: both their loues absent, both extreamly louing. While they were at Sea, they made verses, comparing the euening to the coolnesse of absence, the day break, to the hope of sight, and the warmth to the enioy­ing, the waues to the swelling sorrowes their brests indured, and euery thing they made to serue their turnes, to expresse their affections by. By the Sun they sent their hot passions to their loues; in the cold Moones face writ Cha­racters of their sorrowes for their absence, which she with pale wan visage deliuered to their eyes, greeu'd as to the death, she could not helpe those a­morous Ladyes; yet Pamphilia was most to be pittied, because her loue was most, and most painefull to endure, as being haunted with two hellish Spirits of keeping it secret, and bearing the waight it selfe. The other Lady had more libertie, so more ease, for she might boldly say she wanted Philarchos, and bewayled his absence, yet neuer did shee so, but Pamphilia sighed with her, and so sister-like condoled with her, as she exceld her in passion, which made some eroniously say, that counterfeting was more excellēt then true suffering, because iudgment gouerns where passions are free, when ful­ly possest they master beyond, and so expresse not so well, as if ruld with discretion; for an Actor knowes when to speake, when to sigh, when to end: a true feeler is as wrapped in distempers, and only can know how to beare. Many of these passages there were in dispute, none scaping censure, how great, or good soeuer.

These Ladyes standing one day vpon the Hatches, they saw a little Barque come towards them; Pamphilia commanded the Boat to be called to them, which was done, when out of her came a well knowne Squire from him, she most lou'd, he kneeld, and presented her with letters, and in them a token f [...]om him; she tooke them with such ioy, as her heart, did like the waues, swell: her colour came into her face, and she was so surprized with content, as she could not tell what to say vnto him; at last she remembred that she was not alone, but that she must consider all, eyes were not her seruants, she corrected herselfe, yet could not blame that passion for so deseruing a cause. My deere said she, I cannot hide my happines, nor am I sorry for it, since it is for thee, I suffer this, vnlesse that holding it so deere, I may grudge any should partake of it. Yet calling her sences more about her, to avoyd suspi­tion, she demanded how Parselius, Rosindy, and Philarchos did, and Am­philanthus said she, I hope also doth well. That came out so sweetely, and [Page 315] louingly, as one might iudge, shee asked for the rest for his sake, because she would name him, or named him last, as more to sticke in memory. Orilena was so desirous to know, how her Philarchos did, as shee nere heeded how Pamphilia carried her selfe. Surpassing passion, excellent, still gouerne, how delicate is thy force? How happie thy rule, that makes such excellent women thy subiects? made so by thy gouernment, instructed by thy skill, taught by thy learning, and indeed made by thee. Bee thou still, and worthily adored, and this Pamphilia doth agree to; excellent Queene, the true paterne of excellent affection, and affections truth. Shee then called the Messenger, and hauing called her Spirits to her, asked particu­larly of the estate of Albania.

Hee related the whole discourse, as instructed to set forth his Lord to his owne loue; shee needed not much inuiting to that banquet, this discourse fed her day and night. They talked of the warres, and of the braue Champions, whose honours were neuer greater, then when extolled by her. At last to Morea they came, the King and Queene comming [...]wo dayes iourney to meete her, the most perfect Queene her Cosin, [...]oying in her sight, as in heauenly happinesse, for so she held her Deare. Great ioy was made for her comming, and still augmentations of that by [...]he newes from the Army euer bringing good. Vrania reioyced, and Philistella was ouercome with content: sweete Selarina was as glad as a­ny, but her passions were moderate, and discreetelie held themselues within, yet shee would finely (though in shew carelessely) inquire how Antissius prospered. The other Ladies would smile at it, and some­ [...]imes to make sport so pretily anger her, as was delightfull pastime; eue­ [...]y one enuious to haue each others passions knowne; not doubting but [...]heir owne were equally discouered, iealous onely of each others power, [...]or being better able to conceale their flames then themselues; here did Loue truly, and royally triumph.

Pamphilia gotten alone, looked as often on the token, as her hearts eyes looked on the sender; it was his picture: shee kissed it, shee laid it [...]nd wore it continually in her breast; carefull shee was, least her Cham­ber-maide might see it, because it was more then her reseruednesse did warrant, yet rather had shee all should know and see it, then bee one minute hindred from the enioying it so neare; My deare selfe (would [...]hee say) what happinesse find I in thee? how am I blessed alone in [...]hee? and aboue all by thee? Deerer part of my soule, take the other [...]o thee, pure loue calles thee to acceptance, and thou doest, I hope, take what I so firmely giue thee. What shall I say? thou sayst thou wilt not [...]ee vngratefull, I assure my selfe of that, and blame my selfe extremely, [...]f I said any thing might make thee thinke I doubted thee; thou knowest I neuer vrged so much, as by question to know, if thou diddest loue mee. I [...]aw it, what needed I to aske, much lesse to feare. No sweetest loue, I loue [...]oo much to mistrust, and loue thee more then to demaund assurance, which needes not, where such confidence remaines, nor is fit, since if man-like [...]hou shouldest once liue to change, thy change would grieue my heart, but kill my soule to know, thou wert both changing and forsworne, falsehood were double here, and single euen enough to murder me: but those deare [Page] eyes assure mee, those lippes swell in anger I should thus dispute then, and now dearest, take mine vnto thine, which with whispering let my breath say, I doe long onely to see them moue againe, and tell mee of thy loue, soules com­fort; how I see in my soule spirit-like cleare, and bodilesse from corruption, gouerne and command like loue; a thing adored and reuerenced, but not seene, except to louers: so art thou to me, my spirit, and my All.

While she was thus in loues best clothes apparreld, the brauest of Ladies of her time came to her, finding her in her ancient lo [...]ing walk; she met her with ioy and respect, knowing her so worthy, as she was onely fit to bee mo­ther to such a sonne, who alone deserued so matchlesse a mother. To her shee went, who in her armes entertained her, that humbly tooke her fauour with a low reuerence, which loue made her yeeld her. No time was lost be­tweene them, for each minute was fild with store of wit, which passed be­tweene them, as grounds are with shadowes where people walke: and the longer they discoursed still grew as much more excellent, as they, to night­ward seeme longer.

Among other speech the Queene of Naples asked Pamphilia what shee heard of the warres in Albania. Shee discoursed it all vnto her, but the last busines seemd the strangest, & vnusuallest, said she, although Polidorus his for­tune in his wiues affection was rare, the discourse was this. Nicholarus (being one of the Kings of Albania, as they falsely termed themselues) a Gentleman indued with all vertuous parts of learning, courage, and in truth, al that could be required in a braue man, yet was encountred with a stronger enemy then his iudgement could resist, which was loue, and loue of one, who for his mi­sery loued another. Nicholarus came oft where she was, oft shewed his affe­ction, the other came with him, as if to glory in his mastery, or to enioy with triumph what was refused this King, as a prisoner led, is a more glorious spectacle, then to know he is in a Tower: so are inioyings before refused more happy, and prized, then if by stealth, or kept in pri [...]ate, though loue can bee held as deare and best. The poore Prince hauing a Scarfe by cun­ning loue throwne ouer his eyes, neuer misdoubted any thing, still louing, and cherishing him more then any, because he saw she respected him. Once to her house he came, where they were entertained, as their places and dig­nities required, but the louer as loue commanded. The Prince, or King, or what you will call him, because in his Neighbours Countrie, watched as hee thought an opportunitie, and in the morning when they were to meete the other Kings who were neare to that place, assembled about an especiall businesse of hunting: her husband louing that sport wel, was soonest vp, and called the King; hee employed him in some other businesse, while hee went vnto his wife, whom hee found in her chamber in bed, attending (not his Maiestie) but the King of her heart. Shee rose vp in her bed, and ope­ned the Curtaine with loue, and ioy in her face and eyes. Hee tooke it meant to him when hee perceiued it, for hard was such a ioy as shee ex­pected, to bee drawne backe on the suddaine; but when, like violence followed, for her smile was frowning, her ioy displeasure, her rising to em­brace him, to turning her face from him, her speech to welcome him, to crying out, I wonder (said shee) m [...] maids haue thus betrayed me, lea­uing the Chamber open to my shame. Alas, my Lord, I wonder what [Page 315] you meane to come this way, it is an ill one, and vnfit for you. I haue not mistaken, said hee, I come to visit you, and to intreate you. What to doe my Lord, said she? To pittie mee, said hee. To dishonour my selfe, cryd she. Why? if you can but pittie mee, you may, answered hee. Pittie of my selfe makes mee refuse you, replyed shee. What can you pittie in your selfe, said hee? to denie mee for? The honour (answered shee) which calls to mee for respect, and care, which borne with me, is my fathers, and my brothers, and my houses, these claime my care and pitey.

None neede know your fauour to mee, but your selfe and my selfe, who with all affection aske it, and with all truth will keepe it close. I cannot, nor will not trust mine owne soule with vnworthinesse, lest ac­cusation iustly merited, fall on mee, and inwardlie afflict mee; therefore my Lord I beseech you (said shee) bee satisfied, and as you protest to loue mee, make demonstration of it, and leaue mee pure from touch of any ill, but your discourse, which so farre hath troubled mee, as I truly sweare, I neuer was more molested in my dayes.

Hee with that drew his sword, whether to threaten her with harme, if shee consented not, or to make her yeeld, by offering violence on himselfe, I know not, but shee was distemperd with the manner, and wished her loue, or husband, the worse of the two by much, had been present. The better happened, for her seruant came at the instant, hin­dred it seemed onely by higher powers to stay, to serue her, his affec­tion else bringing him vsuallie rather before, then after time, and so soone some times, as hee hath been forced to vse his best wits for his excuse, yet now hee came late, but in best time for her. His comming in, made the King start, and straight put vp his Sword, making some faind, and so idle cause for drawing it. Hee straight left the roome, and the other attended him, till hee saw him horsed; then returning to his loue, came to excuse, and to bee certaine; excuse himselfe for stay, and to bee resolued of his being there in that sort. She wept for both, t [...]l­ling him, that hee had betrayed her, hee grieued to bee taxed so, yet with much adoe gaind the truth; then was hee ioyed, and tormented, ioyed with her loyaltie, vexed that his negligence had giuen such ad­uantage to his Riuall.

All or both causes of trouble at last were ended, and concluded with the summe of blessednesse, content in affection. The King yet left it not thus, but pursues with faire words, and letters what hee sought; Shee with as faire (but not so kinde) replies, gain'd that hee troubled her not in some moneths with such importunitie.

At last hee writ some Verses to her, wherein hee commended varietie in loue, as inuiting her vnto it, being the most pleasing and fruitfull, telling her whom hee could loue, on all causes and reasons, as either beauty, greatnesse, wit, or for varieties sake it selfe could moue him. The cop­pie of his I haue not, but most excellent Madam (said shee) by hers you may see what hee hath said, and hers bee these, and these your most excellent Sonne hath sent me, for Nicholarus is his prisoner, taken, and saued by him in the last Battaile, that Countrie wholly by the matchlesse King of Naples conquered, and won; for by his comming, Polidorus was vanquished, [Page 318] and Nicholarus quite ouerthrowne, now remaining but one more to be sub­dued, and then Steriamus hath all, and for that, all must thanke Amphilan­thus. And hee your loue (said the Queene) who thus commendeth him. She blushed to heare her iudgement so free with her. She kissed her, and willd her not to feare, though she discouerd her, but proceed sweet Neece, said shee. The Verses Madam (said she) were these.

These Verses being sent to Nicholarus, by the same messenger that brought his, he [...]ell into so violent a despaire, and hate of himselfe, as being more sub­iect to passion, then strength of iudgemēt, or power of vertue, he grew distra­cted, or indeed stark mad, so as care was had of him, and gouernors set about him, as ouer his estate; til at last by dilligence, & faithful Phisitions, & seruants, he recouerd; but how; only to be made more miserable, or to haue iuster cause to be mad, as if the other were not sufficient; for then succeded the inuasion [Page 320] and he gaind his wits to see his Country lost, and feele his weaknes in estate, as before in sence, yet was he happier then, for that want, made him not want it, this finds it. In his mad fits hee once writ to her, and would needs con­uey it by a Romanian, who then wayted on him. He honestly deliuered it but more honestly wept, and bewailed his Lords misfortune. She caried it brauely, and that is all can be said; for what should shee, or could shee doe louing an other? she was (no question) sorry in a noble sort, but not in re­spect, that had he beene other she must haue runne a greater danger in ha­zard of her honor, and breach in faith to her beloued. This made her ima­gine the other the lesse, and her fortune the better.

The same Lady, and her louer likewise, (but at seuerall times) were brought to the victorious King, whose pardons he gaind, being as mercifull, as braue; and this relation haue I from the Prince of Sauoy, a Gentleman ex­cellently bred, and discreetely liuing, good as any, learned aboue ordinary Princes, and delicatly skill'd in Poetry. This discourse hee hath put in verse, which is that I meant hee sent me, and daintily expressed all the passions: The Queene of Naples desired to see it, shee promise the perfor­mance; then walked they a little farther, still taulking of loue, the braue Queene longing to heare the young Queene confesse, shee willing enough if to any shee would haue spoken it, but hee, and shee must only bee rich in that knowledge.

In the euening the other Princesse came vnto them, and so all attended the rare Lady into the Palace, who was as perfect in Poetry, and all other Princely vertues as any woman that euer liu'd, to bee esteemed excellent in any one, shee was stor'd with all, and so the more admirable. With in a short time after the King of Morea intending to meete the Princes, who hee imagined would bee in that time vpon their returne, determi­ned to encounter them, (more cleerely to see his loue) for hee tooke a iourney towards them, and so resolued to remoue his Court to Corinth, that famous, auncient, and fayre Citty; there hee purposed to stay, and to haue the fitter opportunity to entertaine them: how happy a resoluti­on in shew this was for the amorous Ladyes, louers can well, and best coniecture.

Being arriued at that beautyfull place, the young louing Princesses must needs see the Sea, and not only that, but goe vpon it; Pamphilia went to the shoare with them, but then considered her grauity was too much in the opinion of the world to enter into so slight an action, wherefore desi­red pardon. They would not allow it her [...] but with sweete perswasions, and inticements got her a bord with them; they sayled some leagues from the shoare with much pleasure, (and as they cald it) content, Pamphilia and Vrania discoursing, Philistella, and Selarina: Orilena was at that time with the Queene of Naples, whom they would not call, least their iour­ney might bee hindred; thus they plotted to deceiue themselues, and ranne from safety to apparent danger, for what is the Sea but vncertain­tie.

Why should Pamphilia, (vnlesse on necessity) venture her constant selfe in such a hazard, as if to tempt her enemy? which surely shee did, for she grew angry to see she was made to serue her perfectiōs, & in fury waxed in raged, [Page 321] the Shippe grew kindly with bending her selfe to each waue to aske pitty, and bowing with reuerence to demaund safety, and returne. But shee the more sought to, like a proud insolent woman, grew the more s [...]out, and haughty, regarding nothing more then her owne pride and striuing to mo­lest those beautyes. The Ladyes cry'd; the Sea vnmercifully stubborne, was deafe to their laments. They besought, she came vp to the very sids of the Ship, as if to harken, but then slid downe, and smild at their feare, and rose againe in glorious height to behold more of their sorrowes. O said Pamphi­lia, when did I euer play so foolish a part? iustly may I bee condemned for this error, and blamd for so much lightnes; how she despisd her selfe, and complaind to her loue, how she accused all but him, how she wept, and as it were saw by the course, a comming harme to her soule, which then, and af­ter, for a long space best knew the hurt, wayling in condemning her. The storme continued, the winds calling loud to the Sea, to assist, or continue her fury. To the shoare of either side they could not get; Fortune would not permit ought but misfortune to gouerne; at last they were quite carried out of the Gulfe, and being in the Adriatike Sea, the Shippe was tossed as plea­sed Destiney, till at last she was cast vpon a Rocke, and split, the braue La­dyes saued, while she a while lay tumbling, and beating her selfe, as hoping to make way into the hard stone, for those, who could pierce the stoniest heart with the least of their looks.

When they were got vpon the Rocke, and seeing no place but it selfe, (which appear'd to be at first but small) they were in an excessiue perplexity, wishing rather in the storme to haue beene swallowed, then brought thither to some hope, and then cast into the depth of Dispaire, except it were to be famished there.

Pamphilia most patiently tooke it, at least most silently: She climbing the Rocke till at the top she discouer'd a fine Country, and discerned before her a delicate plaine, in the midst whereof was a most sumptuous building, of Marble, shee ioyfully cal'd to the other, who followed her, and viewing it, I feare this storme, and aduenture said Vrania, euer since I was carried to Ciprus; if it be an inchantment, woe be to vs, who may be bewitched to the misery of neuer seeing our desires fulfil'd, once was I made wretched by such a mischeife. Let it be what it will said Pamphilia, I will see the end of it, led as in a dreame by the leader, not with bewitching dull spirit but craft. You may said Vrania, hauing had such suc [...]esse in the last, yet take heed, all aduentures were not framed for you to finish. Nor for you to be enchan­ted in, answered shee. So they went on, the two other marking what they did, who sent some one, or two of their seruants to discouer what this was. They found a round building like a Theater, carued curiously, and in migh­ty pillars; light they might in many places discerne betweene the pillars of the vpper row, but what was within, they could not discouer, nor find the gate to enter it. With this they returnd, the Ladyes proceeded, and arriuing there, found it iust as the seruants had described; but more curiously be­holding it, they found in one of the pillars, a letter ingrauen, and on an o­ther, another letter. They vnderstood not the meaning, while Pamphilia (more desirous of knowledge then the rest) went as far behind that pillar as she could, and there perceiued a space, as if halfe of the pillar, and then a [Page 322] plaine place, & so halfe of the other behind it had left a passage through thē. She came backe and finding her imagination likely, she lookd' vpon the mid­dle plaine which made the space, while the foure pillars making a square, and therein found a key-hole. She looked for the key, while the other three did likewise busie them selues in such search, hauing found in euery plaine such a place, Pamphilia at last found the key, at the foote of one of the pillars. She tooke it, and tryd to open it, which presently it did, as if opening it selfe willingly to her power, or renting it selfe asunder, to let her goe into it. In­stantly appeard as magnificent a Theater, as Art could frame. The other Princes seeing it open came to Pamphilia and all of them stood gazing on it; there was a Throne which nine steps ascended vnto, on the top were fowre rich chayers of Marble, in which were most delicate, and sumptuous im­broider'd cushions, a Carpet of rich embrodery lying before, and vnder them. Needs this richnes must be neerer beheld, and (like women) must see nouelties; nay euen Pamphilia was inticed to vanity in this kind. In they goe, and venture to ascend the Throne, when instantly the sweetest musicke, and most inchanting harmony of voyces, so ouerruld their sences, as they thought no more of any thing, but went vp, and sate downe in the chayers. The gate was instantly lock'd againe, and so was all thought in them shut vp for their comming forth thence, till the man most louing, and most beloued, vsed his force, who should release them, but himselfe be inclosed till by the freeing of the sweetest and loueliest creature, that poore hahits had disgui­sed greatnesse in, he should be redeem'd, and then should all bee finished. To say these braue princes were in paine, I should say amisse, for all the com­fort their owne hearts could imagine to them selues, they felt there, seeing before them, (as they thought) their loues smiling, and ioying in them; thus flattering loue deceiu'd the true, and brought contrary effects to the most good, and this those braue Princes felt, when at the concluding of the last battel, iust as they had takē possessiō of the greater townes of that King­dome, and setled all things in quiet, receiued the people into subiection, ta­ken their oaths to Steriamus, crownd him as their manner was in the Army, and so returnd to the cheife Citty, resoluing thence to send newes to Morea, and euery one to their loues, of their braue and happy successe, there arriued a messenger with the heauy tidings of the losse of the whole worlds beauty. Steriamus fell into such passion, as none thought he would haue enioyed the Kingdome, longer then one doth their loue in a vision, crying out, haue I lo [...]t the Kingdome of my hearts content, to gaine a poore Country of earth, and durt? haue I gain'd to loose more then earth can giue mee? must I bee crowned King to dye a begger? neuer was man in such perplexity; nor any so molested as Amphilanthus, who wisely couered his passions, much con­demning their indiscretions that went with them to Sea, lamented, and har­tily greeued for the misaduenture, and so resolu'd to goe instantly in search of them. Olorandus had arriued there some weekes before, and well, for the last battaile was hard, and terrible, as being the last the Rebells could hope on, all but this last ouercome; He helpd well, and so had Perissus in the for­mer, without whose asistance, the businesse had not so cleerely pass'd, yet did they not fully end with their victory, but with the losse of almost as many men as the other partly lost in that battaile: so as only their gaine was [Page 323] by the noble valour of the peerelesse Kings, but now must they vndergoe a more dangerous busines [...] Amphilanthus and Ollorandus went together, Ste­riamus and Selarinus parted, Antissius going with him, Steriamus would goe alone, and by none could be disswaded; Leandrus with Parselius; Dolorindus was gone before, neuer shewing his face after his folly concerning Amphilan­thus. Perissus and Philarchos ioynd companions. Excellent care was taken in the choice of the Lieutenants, the two first met Knights by Amphilanthus had the charge as principall of the Counsell of Albania, being of great bloud, and Tireneus of Epirus, Philarchos, and Perissus went to Morea, to comfort the King and Queene, and to see Orilena. Rosindy and Polarchos tooke together, but first went to Macedon, to see Meriana. Thus all deuided, Amphilanthus must first be attended, who hauing the part allotted him to goe to the Sea (as if the businesse most concerned him, and the hopefullest) shipped in Epirus as soone as he could, and came all along the Coa [...]t, visiting euery Iland, and searching in all ships for tidings, complaining in himselfe, that such misfor­tune should be, and at so much an vnlooked for time, when all happinesse ap­peared ready to embrace them. As hee passed, his heart on a sudden leaped within him, but straight againe teares followed, to see how he was void of all comfort, yet did it truly offer him helpe, but he must not take nor giue it, for by the fatall Rocke, he passed, when that ioy was in him, and no sooner pas­sed, but was possessed againe with sorrow. Alas Pamphilia his helpe was neare thee, but thou must not haue it lent thee, but loose more. A ship at last came towards him, to demaund newes, and if they came from Greece, of Am­philanthus.

He made answere himselfe, that he was the man they sought. My Lord said he, your brother by me salutes you, and desires your speedy returne, the cause you shall by these letters vnderstand. He tooke them, and found that a great warre was begun betweene two famous, and great houses in Italy, by reason that the Duke of Milans younger sonne, had stolne away the Duke of Vrbins onely daughter; the businesse at first was but betweene themselues, then grew further, all neighbours taking part with them, so as Italy was all on fi [...]e, and the Regent no more respected, then as their kings brother, but pow­er he had none, or very little, so as hee remained at Rome in the Castle, and thence sent to his brother to returne and gouerne, whose sight they all thought would appease the fury. He was grieued to goe from seeking her, and them he loued so dearely, yet this was an occasion to bee looked vnto, nor could it bee long that it was likely to hold him; wherefore by Ol­lorandus his aduise, and the care hee had of his poore Countrie, for her sake more then his owne to preuent the ruine, hee bent his course that way.

Alas vnfortunate Lady, what will become of you? this is the last time for some moneths, hee shall come so neare, but yeares before his affection bee so much. Vnluckily did Fortune prouide for thee, when blessings on­ly kisse like strangers, but haue their dwellings other where.

Hee arriued in Italy, presently letting his comming be knowne, all flocked vnto him, and as when a ciuill warre in a Country hath made parties, yet when a common enemy comes, they all ioyne against him: so did they flee now from the partakings, but runne to happinesse and welcome. He exami­ned the cause, found matters ill on both sides, yet at last with power, loue [Page 324] and iudgement, appeased them all, and setled Italy in as braue peace and quiet as euer it was, flourishing now doubly, as in riches, and the ioy of such a King. While he remained there, much people frequented thither, and the fame of his acts, brought most eyes to behold him, and as he returned, so flew the report of his being there with them; whereupon the King of Dalmati [...] sent Embassadors to treat of a marriage, twixt his daughter, and Amphilan­thus, a thing long before spoken of, and wished, but this father would neuer heare of it during his life, now reuiued againe, and with much earnestnesse pursued. The King made a courteous, and ciuill answer to the Embassadour, but said, for marriage, hee did desire to be excused, till he knew by his owne labour certainely what was become of his Sister and Cosin, then hee would come himselfe into Dalmatia, and satisfie the King to his full content. This answer was sufficient for the time; thus resolued he to goe in the search ap­pointed, and to that end (hauing called the Princes together, who were all met, and those from Albania returnd) gaue charge of his estate to the Coun­s [...]ll making an old graue man of much reuerence in the Country, and of the house of Florence, President of the Counsell; his brother he would haue set­led againe, but he desired to bee excused, and to haue the order of Knight­hood, that with the rest of the braue Princes, hee might seeke his sister, and Cosins. The King refused him not, but himselfe gaue him the order, and then parted he one way with Ollorandus, the young Leonius another way by himselfe, hauing none but an Esquire with him. Amphilanthus changed his armour, and colours, making all tawny, as if forsaken, which was but the badge of the Liuerie hee gaue her soone after, who best deserued from him, and therefore least merited that reward; he also gaue himselfe another name, and was cald the Lost Man. Ollorandus must likewise alter, else one would make the other knowne, wherefore he contrariwise cald himselfe, the Hap­py Knight, carrying in his Sheild Victory, crownd with Loue. Thus they trauelled vncertainely where to stay, or land, letting the Marriners guide them as they pleased, who were strangers to them, and of Dalmatia, whither they carried them; they asked no more questions, but landed, and so went vp into the Countrie, comming into a Wood, which was great, and euery way thicke and desart; they yet traueld, when they came to a way that par­ted in three, they stood in question what to doe, at last they resolued to take the middle way, and by no meanes to deuide themselues. The course they tooke, brought them to a mighty Hill, whose curled sides were so thick with trees, as no possibility was to go downe, being so steepe, as they must hope to do a miracle, and walke on the crownes of trees, or els fall to their ruine, like Icarus, melted for presumption: so they might bee bruised for proud hope, and broken in their fall. They lighted from their horses, to trie if so they might goe on, but all was in vaine, so as they kept the Hill, till they came to a place where trees had bin cut; this was little better for their horses, yet some thing more easie for them. Here with much difficulty and paine (which to aduenturous Knights is called pleasure, their life being a meere vexation, wilfully disguised to content) they got downe, and then came into a most louely Vally, which had been the perswasiue part to their descending, loueli­nesse being as attractiue, as the Adamant, hauing a property in loue to Iron: so louelinesse hath to affection.

In this vally they rid a prety space, but [...]ot one word past betweene thē; to a [Page 325] Riuer they came, fierce, and violent in the streame; no way might bee found to passe it in many miles riding, till at last they came vnto a Bridge, which was defended by two Knights. They would passe; the Guarders refused, vnlesse they would fulfill the orders there. They desired but to know what they were, and they as willingly would obey, as they demand. The orders (said they) are these: you must iust with vs two, one after another; if you o­uercome the first, you must proceed to the next, and if vanquish both, the passage is free, but one must venture first: nor his companion helpe, but stay his turne, and so fight with both. The vnmatchable King would take that taske on him, his companion standing by, he began, and brauely concluded it with the Victorie. Then seeing no more to be done, he tooke the Swords of the vanquished, and hung them on a Pillar hard by, commanding them not to touch them, but to goe to the King of that Country from him, and to [...]ell, what had befallen them, and sweare to carry no swords for two yeares, nor euer more to defend so slight a cause. They desired first to goe to the Lady, who had set them there, and tell her, then to doe the rest; desiring to [...]now who had ouercome them. Hee answered, the Lost Man; they found some thing was in that name, wherefore they would not presse, but left him, promising to obserue his commands.

The two Companions rid, till they came againe to a Wood, but not so [...]hicke as the other, but of great huge trees, and such a place it was, as offerd delights, to most hearts to stay, and receiue it there. The bodies white as snow, testifying innocency; and their tops so large, and thickly spread, as expressed glory for their purenesse. In this place they lighted, giuing their horses to their Squires, and the very content of that solitarinesse brake their silence. Here (said Amphilanthus) is a place fit for such a creature as my selfe to dwell in; here alone am I fit to inhabit, and leaue all gouernment to him that can rule, shunning that, when I cannot rule my selfe. When did I euer see you my dearest friend (said Ollorandus) in this tune? What haue you done with your spirit? where drownd your iudgement? and how buried your selfe? What if you liue to bee crossed in your desires? belieue it, it is not to other end, then to make you happier with the sweet meeting, of what the misse will make dearer to you, when passed. Pamphilia cannot bee lost Vrania drowned, Philistella cast away, or Selarina stolne. What vexeth you, if they bee carried to a farre place; if the worst, as those parts are full of en­chantments?

Enchanted (cryd Amphilanthus) deare friend, tis we that are enchanted from finding the truth of their losse: they are lost, and weeled by the same Deuill in ignora [...]ce, the more to torture and scorne vs. Ollorandus perswa­ded, and spake houres to him, but he was deafe, or speechlesse, for not a word could he get of him; his sighes were his answers, his groanes his speech, and thus they walked, till they met a Lady (as she seemd to be) in mourning at­tire, her faire eyes shewing more griefe, then her apparrell sadnesse, yet had they red cirkles about them, threatning reuenge for their sorrow; her traine was only one Page, who shewd as little mirth, as his Mistris did content [...] they came one a little before the other, as if sorrow could haue most liberty in lonelines, and therefore although but two, would goe asunder. Amphilan­thus sad, found, or sadnes found for him, that distresse in her demanded his [Page 326] helpe; wherfore he went to her, curteously demanding, if his seruice might a­uaile her. Sir, said she, your taw [...]y liuery so wel suits with my fortune, as if I saw, but that I might from thence ask help; but alas Sir, my misery is but one way to be redrest, my woe no way equald, nor can my afflictions see end, but by the end of me. Miseries face, said he, is so perfectly (yet in delicacy vnfor­tunately) presented in you, as would make one wish, rather to be thus, misera­ble, then free otherwise affected; but as in you excellently are these perfecti­ons, so in me are as excelling crosses. I knowing these, can with more feeling vnderstand yours, and with a more reuengefull mind serue you, hauing that abounding in me; for behold here before you, the man, who neuer saw mo [...] ­ning ioy, that was not nipt by cold euenings malice. Comparing griefes, said the Lady, are but to augment sorrow, without helpe comming to extremity, but in your discourse I find by you, that you want helpe as well as I. And help only of one like your selfe, said hee, can make me blessed. I will not touch o [...] that, said she, though thus I might, since if she were like mee, shee would bee much more pitifull. How can I know that, said he, but thus I may gesse it, that none being able to compare with her, except her owne excellencies, they go­uernd by her selfe can suffer no comparisons. This shewes you to bee a louer said she, and for that, I bewaile likewise your fortune, for hell cannot inflict [...] more terrible torment on a heart, then loues power settles in him. Do you [...] spring from that ill, said he? I thought only my starrs had directed me to suc [...] distresse. They spring and flow, cryd shee, increase and dwell in this subiect [...] May I know the cause said he? Yes said the Lady, if you will promise me par­don for my boldnes, and tedious discourse which it will proue, and other as­sistance I need not. Alas (cryd he) that shal be most willingly lent you, thoug [...] I may feare as little to helpe you, or my patience being a poore, though nes­sary vertue. Tell me who you are, said the Lady? I am (reply'd he) cald th [...] lost Man, my name little famous here, not hauing done any thing, but again [...] two Knights at a Bridge, from whom I won passage. If you haue done tha [...] answerd shee, the more assurance haue I of your worth and valor, for they were two, counted the strongest, and most valliant of this Kingdome, and part of my story toucheth on them, but now haue I cause to be ambitious o [...] your knowledge, and by the want of it, reason to distrust the continuance o [...] mine own vnblessed destiny, which increase in harmes, pursuing and follow­ing me. Alas, said the lost Man, what hope is there left, where two such for­tunes encounter. Onely this said she, that the extremity may change to good out of that confidence, you shall know the vnkind fortune that gouern [...] me.

This image of griefe, or rather true griefe, my selfe am called Bellamira [...] my father was called Detareus, a great Lord in this Country, and Steward o [...] the Kings house, fauoured by him, but at last sent in an Embassage, wherei [...] he was lost, wherewith my misery ran on to this height. He had many chil [...]dren, but most borne to misfortune, my self being his first, as sent the sooner t [...] taste of miserie; for being much at the Court with my father, before I kne [...] what loue was, I was his prisoner. I pined, sigh, wept, but knew not what th [...] paine was, till at last the Tyrant shewed from whence the danger came, bu [...] with it shewed the impossibilitie of obtaining, hee hauing setled his affect [...]ons in another place, nor had I pride en̄ough to thinke my selfe able to wi [...] [Page 327] him from the Princesse, for she it was, hee did affect, a Lady deseruing the title of excellent, had not her pride, and other defacing imperfections, throwne a blacke Scarfe ouer her outward fairenes. This Lady hee loued, but (as afterwards I found) no more constantly then your sex vseth, not meaning to bee a Phaenix among men-louers, for feare of enuy. When I perceiued his eyes somewhat fauourably to bend themselues to me (vnhappy foole that I was) I held and valued it, my certaine comming fortune, gi­uing mee such hope, as perswaded mee without feare to see the end; which brought mee to the ambition, to bee at a great marriage, which was at the Court, the King gracing a young Lord so farre, as to haue his Nuptials per­formed there. Then did I more plainely see his respect to me, his shifts and meanes to bee neare mee (certaine proofes of loue), his alluring eyes tel­mee, his heart appointed them the messengers, to discouer what he sought, which was, that I should vnderstand, I belieued them, and blame mee not braue Sir, for neuer was man Lord of so many womens soules, as this my Lord had rule of, who without flatterie, did deserue it, neuer being vnthank­full for their loues.

Thus my beliefe gaue my faith, I euer after constantly louing him, hee shewed as much to me: thus we loued, or thought we loued, which no soo­ner had possession, but freedome followed, as the second to loue, and this brought mee to my onely playing part of miserie. For being young, and full of ioy, inriched with the treasure of his affection, I fell into a snare, closely couered, and so more dangerous, being caught by the craft of one, whose wit was to strong for mee, being as plentifull in wickednesse, as ex­cesse could make, or execution demonstrate in fulnesse. I so true a louer, as I thought on nothing else, if ought, it was how to indeare myselfe in his fauor, by respecting and louing those hee loued (a way much vsed, and to some profitably practised) this yet threw me into the Gulfe of mischiefe, giuing welcome to that Wretch, who vnder shew of respect, spoild my only com­fort, stealing like rust, and eating my heart, with as marring, and harmefull deceits. The loue I saw my Lord bare him, was the chiefe cause that made me like him, trusting his choice aboue mine owne iudgement, for I knew him once thanklesse enough to another, from whom my Lord tooke him, to bee his companion-like seruant. His discourse was delicate, and so vnusuall his wit, not lying the same way, that other good ordinary ones did, and so excel­ling; for what pleasinger then varietie, or sweeter then flatterie? which hee was filled with all, and made mee giue, or credit to a treacherous deceit [...] which perswaded mee, hee was full of honest plainenes, so prety, and famili­ar his discourses were, as shewed a pleasing innocency, yet indued with ad­mirable learning. This moued me to trust, considering that the greater his knowledge was, the more he should know truth, but contrariwise, he was the breach to my misery. My Lord imploid [...] him in some occasions abroad, whe­ther by his own desire to see, or his wil to be certaine of some forraine know­ledge, he went away, leauing me secure, and happiest in my Lords affection. Many letters I receiued frō him, wherin he witnessed his truth, which indeed did wel, for only paper and inke said it, not being worthy, or honest enough to blush for his shame; but in the time of his absence, my loued loue, did (like all men) alter: it may bee caused by greater beautie, it may [Page 328] [...]ee prouoked to it by my imperfections; but some thing it was, (I dare not say a naturall inconstancy, b [...]t rather taxe my selfe with the blame, then touch him,) made me vnfortunate. This vnworthy man found it; and as vildly pursued it, smoothing me with flatteries, while he glos'd with him, and her, to whom he had chang'd, as long as euer hee discernd curtesie in him towards me, (which at last most cruelly was likewise taken from mee) hee followed mee, but then look'd on me as a rainy day doth on the earth, after a flattering morning: I was deceiued, and indeed vndone, but twas by him, and for him whom I lou'd, yet after some respect I found, there­fore I pardon, & forgiue him? Sometime this lasted, succeeding as I should haue told you, the death of my husband, and sonne, by him; for marryed I was, and hauing ambition enough to hold mee from that, in hope of ob­tayning him for my husband, while the King still fauour'd mee, and (if I might with arrogancy say) loued me. But my loue to my chosen, refus'd all others, and he at last refused me; which, when the crafty vnhonest man directly saw, hee not only (as I told you) left obseruing mee, but proudly sought my loue; if I scornd his basenesse, a thing raised by my Father to be knowne, but made by my Lord to shew in light. Consider you, who needs must know, what can be yeelded by a spirit true to noble birth, and more noble loue to a worme boldly crawling before the best, and lifting vp an vnualued head as if a braue beast; but a beast indeed he was, and I the mis­fortune had to be a taster of his Villany, vnder colour of visiting me after my losse, he gaind still in my true heart a confidence of his renewing respect to mee, which I prized him for, confessing still, and purely all the flames I felt for his Lord, and soone after this, he shewed his dishonesty, and such neglect, as if I were a blab, or one desirous to doe ill, I might yet mischeefe him. But I am farre from that, and will doe well, let all other ills succeed that can, for goodnesse and truth shall gouerne me; yet because all his fals­hood shall not remaine hid, or be vnknowne. I will tell you somewhat that hee did, for some-thing it concearns this story. Hee came to me, and found me apt, or tooke occasion to thinke so, for hee spake of loue, and proceeded so farr, as he brought it to my fortune. I answered moderatly, yet so home to my owne hart, as he saw, I was the same, how euer he was chan­ged, for whose change my affliction was, and so I discouer'd my paines, and sorrowes, as he said, I complain'd fitly to be commiserated, and that he pit­tied me. Doe not so said I, for I contemne pitty; from thence hee grew to aspire to winne me, and so boldly, and [...]aucely at las [...] carryed himselfe, as if my deerest knew it, (though he now shunns me) he much more would scorne him, that durst attempt to winne her, whom he had once loued, and yet holds as his owne, though in despised sort: And more to shew his villany, he only serues, and seekes, and sues to haue her grace, who hee perceiueth keeps my loue from me, thinking himselfe (base villaine) good enough for me, who now doe weare the wretched liuery of losse, & what is euer shun'd I haue in store, forsaken and forlorne in loue. Yet be it as it is, and they con­tinue as they doe, I am, and euer will be my selfe.

But what, (said Amphilanthus) is the cause of this extreamity of griefe? Haue I not told you Sir, said she, being forsaken and despised? and why? only for louing. Dull I haue beene called, for constancy is now termed so, [Page 329] and his assurance of my faith made him leaue mee, a thing hee thinks soone wonne, or rather held at pleasure, confident assurance of firmnesse, growing to cōtempt; & this course doe vnfortunate poore cōstant louers run. What is become, said Amphilanthus of this man? He liues said she I hope to shame himselfe. Where is your loue said h [...]? Fixed truely in my heart, other where I can giue a small account of: but as I haue heard, liuing with a new loue, be­witched sure with some charmes, else could he not continue closed alone within her armes, while armes, and all true noblenes is buried in his losse: for lost he is, since hee fell to her power.

Why did those Knights maintaine the passage said hee? To defend poore mee cryd shee, who since now left vngarded on that side, I beseech you will conuey me to my house, which when you see, you will find like­wise cause of pitty there. Then brought she them vnto her dwelling, which was in a Caue, of great bignesse, and large proportion, a Monument in the mid'st of it, of the most pretious stone of that time wherein shee liued, being the Tombe of her sweete, and last deere loue, her sonne. Deuided the Caue was into pretty roomes, finely furnished, but such as seemed ra­ther to affect delicate cleanlines, then sumptuous ornament, yet were they rich enough. Her attendants few, but their seruice shewed them sufficient for that place; with a modest, and sad kindnesse shee bad them wellcome thither, and instantly asking pardon that she must leaue them for such a tyme, as she might performe her vow of mourning ouer the Tombe, which hauing finished with numbers of sigh's, groanes, and teares, she returnd to them againe. Amphilanthus, was not yet satisfied with the discourse, where­fore againe he vrg'd her; Then Sir said she you shall haue all: I was borne to be betray [...]'d, for before this cunning ill man came, I was vndone in former hops by one, that had beene with my Lord almost from his birth, who with flatterings had seald vp my heart to his vse, neuer hiding any thing, (not my loue it selfe) from his knowledge, he making the greatest shew of obli­g [...]tion to me for my confidence, that might bee expressed by so rare a witt: striuing by sub [...]ill meanes to make me thinke hee vsd all wayes hee might to make me happy; still vrging me, who needed no inticement to thinke how worthy the loue was, how fit the match, and then shewed me the liknesse of it, our loues being so perfectly, and reciprocally embraced: the strong bond of friendship, twixt our fathers, and the continuance of that, betweene him, and my father, as inheriting it from him; lastly of our breeding toge­ther, which though in our infancies, yet the more naturally bred loue, and increased it, adding to loue, as the smalest sticks doe with momber to the fi [...]rs of triumph: but what aboue all indeed was the earnestest moouer, (as he treacherously protested) was the true, & euen consent of our dispositions, which seem'd so neere being one, as though by birth made two, yet created so, as to be ioyned in one, for the more direct, and vnpartiall strength of per­fectnesse; and thus were you made to be one said hee, in all fortunes and be­ings. Heauen I confesse I held his lou [...]; Father, Mother, friends, all were strangers to me, in respect of the nearnesse of my affection to him, and next to that did I thinke my best spent time was with those he most affected, in his absence, in that kinde seruing him. Fortunate I thought my selfe and honour'd, when his companions accompanyed me, and so much I loued him, [Page 330] as being forsaken, I now the more am tortur'd with iust cause of cōplayning. This Creature, (loath I am to name by other title, and yet grieued to giue him his due, and to call him spoyler of my blisse) too diligently atten­ded me, neuer left me, when any time might be permitted for man to see me in, I embraced his conuersation, but it chang'd to my affliction, and con­tents destruction seeing oft times my passions, which were too vehement for mee to hide, or my weakenesse couer, hee aduised, yet still inticed mee on. At last a match was offered me, many had beene so before, but all refused, my conscience being such, as neuer to marry any, that I could not loue, es­pecially knowing it before, yet was this more earnestly pursued then any o­ther before, the Gentleman himselfe too much, and vnhappily affecting mee. My Parents (looked without loues eyes) or rather saw, (while that child was blind) the goodnes, and greatnesse of his estate, the hopefullnesse of the man, his vertues, and noble conditions, much perswaded mee vnto him, yet could not more mooue me, then it is possible to stirr the most renowned Albion Rocks: and in as much chast whitenesse, remain'd my loue to my Lord, while this Diuell who promis'd his helpe, aymed at a farre fowler end, beeing gaind, (I will not say by bribes) to the friends of a great Heire, whose estate might make one, how vnworthy soeuer before a coue­tous minde, seeme beautifull. This was his fire, and by this hee wrought, de­stilling the offence of Villanie, through the Limbeck of his wickednesse, and this was the beginning. My only loue being gon a iourney with the King, loued infinitely by Deterius my father, and hee staying had left his chamber, and seruants to his dispose, and command; a stranger came in, (the plot ordained so by this Villaine) while my Lord was dressing him, hee de­sired to speake with the Traytor; he went vnto him, cōming in againe with a paper in his hand, & amazednes in his face, which made my deerer selfe de­mand the cause, he tēderly louing the wretch, because he had instructed him [...] frō, & in his tender youth. He counterfetted loathnes to speake, as if vnwel­come newes would follow his words, the more he was troubled, & silent, the more perplexed was my deere; wherefore he priuately called the messenger to him, of whom he demanded the newes; he answered he knew none, but that with much ioy, and content, Bellamira was betrothed to her long louing friend, though not till then beloued of her, he then loued, and so may you [...] the better iudge of his paine.

When he heard I had giuen my selfe to another, yet thus discreetly he [...] caryed it, that hee spake not any thing vnto it, though some while after he [...] demaunded of his fauour'd seruant, as if but by chance, if he heard any thing of Bellamira, he would not answere but with a sigh, and these words; It is impossible I now find for any woman to be true. Why said my Lord, is Bel­lamira marryed? No answered hee, but as ill, for shee is betrothed. O women, O loue, how fickle and false are you both? My deere hearing the death of my loue confirmed in this (likely but vntrue) manner, sai [...] little, only turned himselfe to a window, where some teares he shed; yet ha­uing the noblest spirit in the world, would not suffer himselfe too long t [...] be gouernd vnder sorrow, turned againe, and so walked into an Orchard [...] where they conferred, and at last he gained his consent to his desired end.

I ignorantly liued, not daring to make other expressions then by looks [Page 331] or humble, and willing seruices offered him, which with as much affection were embraced; yet was I grieued I heard not of him, which still, till then I did by euery one that saw him, he as willing to send, as I to receiue kindnesse. The earnest suiter, and falsely supposed betrothed man, still did pursue, and so hotly, as at last I resolued to stretch the limits of modesty, and to acquaint my Lord withall by letter, and so ambitiously hoped to gaine one from him; but considering many dangers, I fell into the greatest, fearing the deliuery of my letter, I sent it to him, who was the only bar of the deliuering of it, or thē I sent, as at his death I found in a Cabinet, deliuered by his owne hands vn­to mee with teares, and humble petition for pardon, that so hee might die quietly, which as he lamentably protested, hee could not doe, nor peaceably leaue this world, I forgaue him, and in that Cabinet found three of my let­ters, which close me in the misery I now suffer; thereby I saw manifestly I was betrayed, loosing the enioying of what the losse brought my vtter ruine: for I assuredly confident in him, sent my letters still to him, trusting him con­trary to iudgement, neuer receiuing answere of them, but excuses from him selfe, as since I find were framed by him, sometime saying he could not then write, but in short time he would send one of purpose to me. I remained as louers enioying their like quiet. But many weekes hauing passed, I writ a­gaine, setting downe, how I was solicited by him hee knew of, almost threat­ned by my parents, yet had they, nor should they gaine more then this, that he like all others should be refused for his sake, if it would please him to ac­cept of me, and my truest affection, wholly dedicated to him. This vnfortu­nately I sent, as the others, and so kept, comming the same morning, before hee was by his Villany contracted to the great Heire of the Forrest. Twise I was sending it by a trusty seruant of my mothers, but Desteny preuailed and I destined to mischiefe could not withstand my ills.

Perplex'd I was with my fortune, when I saw, or thought I saw my faith reiected: mad at my patience that forced me to beare such iniuries, cursed the harme, yet loued the harme [...]maker, till one night my father, and ma­ny of his friends at supper, the procurer of my miserie came in, who was beloued, and respected by my father for his learning, and for his seruice to his friend, and so was entertained by him, placing him next vnto himselfe, while I with vncertaine lookes, and doubtfull blushings cast mine eyes on him, yet stayed them not long there, lest they might bee vnderstood my heart guiltie of the loue my soule bare to his Lord, causing such a mistrust of discouerie in my owne conscience, as that mo­destie hindred mee from discouering my harme, which his countenance had else been ready to bewray (as since I vnderstood by some that mar­ked him, as they sat at meate). My father asked how his most noble Lord did fare.

Well, my Lord (said he) but growne of late too cunning for vs al; for would you thinke it? he hath finely got a wife. This made me boldly to looke vp, for what would not such a deadly wound cause in one, if it were but only to look boldly on their end: life lasting in mee, but to know certainely my death, be­ing so eager of it, as I my self had demanded it, had not my father soone pre­uented me, asking who it was. Why, said hee, the fly Youth hath got the mighty Heire of the Forrest. I hearing it, discernd my hast to bee like theirs, [Page 332] that run to the top of the highest Rock, to throw themselues from thence: & so did I; for those words strake me dead, my spirits falling, and failing me, en­countred with the depth, and bruise of fortune aduerse to me, I fell from the table in a swound. All ran to me, or about me, none (because none thought I loued) being able or willing to guesse the reason, except the Serpent, whose poyson strake me. I was with care and diligence brought to my selfe againe, which when I had sense to know, I blamd that sense that brought that know­ledge to me, condemning fortune, who would not permit one of her owne sex, so much fauour as to die, hauing such cause. Then came my speech a­gaine, which I onely employd to this purpose, to desire some of the seruants to leade me to my chamber, beseeching the company not to stirre, assuring them that there was no danger, for vsually I had had such fits; my father and mother, especially whose loues were most vnto me, and dearest to me, would haue gone with mee, but I preuaild; the moouer of my torment looking on me with as much pitie, as the Master of a good Dog doth on him, when he is hurt by his owne setting on, vpon either Bull or Beare. When I came to my Chamber, I pretended a desire to rest, which made me abler to dwell in any vnrest. Sir, if euer you haue felt loue so perfectly, as to deserue your name, imagine to your selfe what I felt, seeing scorne, disdaine, presented to mine eies, nay (what of all is cruelst) vnkindnes.

Vnkindnes to a perfect louing heart, is indeed said he of all miseries, the cruellest, and most murthering. Haue you (alas Sir said she) felt that griefe? That only said he perplexeth me, I cannot say I was disdain'd, for I was che­rished, I was not scorned, but receiued, I lou'd, and was beloued, but now I feare she is vnkind. Let not feare without assurance said shee molest you, lest it make you indeed loose by mistrust, what is yet but mistrusted to be lost. I beseech you (said hee) proceede, and let my misfortunes remaine in me, by none else thought on. Yet (said shee) being forsaken, is a greater miserie, for such a losse, is losse of all hope, or ioy in life; the other may bee helped a­gaine with kindnesse, and this I finde; for had I not enioyed a heauenly hap­pinesse, I neuer had complained.

But to goe on, being come to my chamber, and hauing liberty by priuat­nesse to exercise my sorrow in the absence of all but it selfe, I thus began to mourne. O loue, cride I, was it not enough that thou didst win mee to thy power, and that thou didst possesse me in those yeares, when first it was possi­ble for maiden thoughts to entertaine thee, to make mee chuse, guiding mine eyes to the choice of one, where perfections linked themselues to chaine my powers, and enuy from all such, that thinking I loued thee, mali­ced my happinesse, as if I had enioyed? Yet cruell you cannot thinke all that I suffered by passion, hatred of others, enuy, paine, torment, and all miserie sufficient, but you must turne crosse, and find a greater to afflict me. Why did you grant me Paradise of hope, to throw me downe to bottoms of despaire? Why did you glory to inuite my heart, to yeeld vnto the winning power of eyes? eyes which were able to gaine more [...] then hearts thrice doubled could repay with loue?

Fie intising eyes, why wan you mee? onely of set purpose to kill me with your frownes? this was pretended murder, your sparkling conquest seemd to gaine, by vnresistable darts, soules to your will; and their smiles promi­sed [Page 333] vnresistable darts, soules to your will; and their smiles promised to saue when won, but triall proues, you win alone to spoile. Was it a victory sufficient to get, and worthlesse of keeping? It seemes so, since you leaue me: leaue me, smarting affliction, scourge to loyall hearts, yet leaue you hold me, being left by him, who onely holds my loue.

Thus passed I part of the night, the rest in an exercise mine vndoer taught mee, putting my tho [...]ghts in some kind of measure, which else were mea­surelesse; this was Poetry, a thing hee was most excellent in. That night, and many more were ended in that manner, till at last, taking a resolution, which was made by necessity, I came abroad againe, meeting at my fathers chamber one day with my still de [...]re, though forsaken. He wished me much ioy; I told him hee might best wi [...]h it, hauing caused so much sorrow to me: hee told mee, my chosen loue (hee hoped) would bring content vnto mee. Then had you been more kind, and true, said I. Treborius is the man must hold your affection, said he. The Forrest Heire (cryd I) hath made you change, and mee forsaken, liuing thus vnhappily, made free. Free, said hee, and betrothed? Pardon mee my Lord, said I, I neither am, nor will bee till I wed.

Will you begin, said hee, to vse that vice you euer till now contemned, dissembling a thing protested against by your vertue? It is that thing I most abhorre, answered I: but if I would vse it, my faith should hinder it from you. Heauen then beare witnesse of my wrong, cryd hee: and pitie mine, said I. With this the company came about vs, so as for that time wee said no more; then did hee seeke meanes how to regaine my affection, which he fea­red was lost to him, while alas my labour was how to couer that, which so truly was his, as I doubted my selfe for being a safe keeper of it from him, de­termining all chastitie in loue, not so much as entertaining his outwa [...]d com­plements, farther then ciuilitie commanded.

Treborius followed his sute, my father vrged mee, and I, cast away by for­tune, threw my fortunes at his feete, to bestow them, truly then not worth the accepting: yet loue in the man, made him seeke me, and with as much ioy receiue me. The time was appointed, all our friends and kindred inuited, and as a principall guest my lost loue was intreated to come: who obayed, but his sad demeanor shewed, it was no pleasure to him, to see me giuen to ano­ther: if hee were troubled, how was I afflicted? In the morning before I was quite dressed (according to the manner of our Countries libertie) the chiefe strangers came into my chamber, permitted by custom to see the Bride dres­sed; among the rest, or before the rest, he came in, yet said nothing, onely lookes spake for him. I was to the soule perplexed, and being ready to enter into my miserable estate, I went into a great window, which had a curtaine ouer it. A Lady whom I most respected (and so did all those, whose happines was to know her worth, being for all noble vertues, and excellent parts to be admird) would not be denied to go with me. Befo [...]e her I performd a vowed sacrifice, which was of a lock of haire that I had worne constantly many yeares; this haire was his, though not giuen to me by himselfe, but by an an­cient seruant of his, vnknown to his Lord. The vow was, that if euer I should be so vnfortunate, as to marry any but himselfe, that morning before my marriage to burne it to my losse and loue.

[Page 334]This next my heart I euer carried, and with the losse of that, finished my vow that fatall day before the perfectest of women, not without teares, as since that noble Lady hath told me, when with her fauour shee would giue libertie to her selfe, to speake with me vnworthy of her iudgement, making mee often call my selfe to mind, yet I thinke rather to bee resolued, of what shee could but coniecture, then to renew my torment with memorie of my distresse. But this finished, the marriage followed: what torture was it to mee, standing betweene my loue, and Treborius, when I was to giue my selfe from my loue to him? How willingly would I haue turned to the other hand: but contrary to my soule I gaue my selfe to him, my heart to my first loue. Thus more then equally did I deuide my selfe: within a short time af­ter I went with my husband to his house, wishing neuer more to see any light or company, which in some sort I enioyd for one whole yeare: but then the King going to see his Country in Progresse, my husbands house was found fit in his way, so as he lay there, and was by him freely, and brauely entertai­ned, he being as bountifull in his house, as any man: but this brought fur­ther trouble, for such a liking the King had to the place, as often in the yeare he visited it; much his Maiestie was pleased to grace mee, I thinke for my friends respect, but howsoeuer, mine eyes ascended no higher then a subiects loue. Many times by the Kings command, I was after at the Court, once I remember, being at the entertainement of the King of Slauonia, brother to his Maiestie, there was tilting, course of field, and many such braue exercises; but so farre short all the Gallants (and the King himselfe being one) came of my loues perfectnesse, as they seemd but foyles placed, to set forth the lusture of his excellence. The sports brake vp, and the King, Queene, and Court ac­companied the Slauonian King to the Sea, who was from thence to take a fur­ther voyage; with my husband I returned, my heart so filled with loue, as nothing but it selfe could find biding, or entrance there.

Treborius out of loue to me, loued my friends, and those he saw I most re­spected, which made me so willing to requite his affection, as I studied how to content him, euer sauing my first loue perfect to the owner; and truly such I found his kindnes, as I haue been sorry I had no loue left for him, yet could I not in the kindest humour spare him any from the other. By the way as we returnd, how would the good man praise his person, his fashion, speech, horse-manship, conuersation, pleasing mirth, concluding still, he was the only exact piece of man-kind, and framed alone without equall, and as if hee were made to honour all vertues, and they framed to serue him. I tooke such ioy in these, as still I bore him vp in them, seeing in his words the picture of my heart and thoughts liuely drawne; he maintained them to content me, while I best satisfied seemed to commend his witty descriptions, as if they, and not the subiect pleased me. Thus did I dissemble, and thus onely for my loue, and with him that loued me, yet this may be pardoned (if pardon may bee giuen for such a fault) since loue did warrant mee, and I obayd my Lord. Other times (though for it I blamd my selfe, because I wrongd his kindnes) I would commend his ordinary talke, when hee praised rude sports, or told the plaine Iests of his Hunts-men, yet the best their vocation could afford, laugh and bee merry with them, but why? because oft-times they brought discourse of my best loue, who delighted in those sports.

[Page 335]Thus I continued, firmly, and chastly louing, but then pleasure enuying my good, call'd misfortune into company, for my husband dyed, and not long after, my only sonne slaine in this vnfortunate Groue, following those sports his father loued. This was not all my losse, for afterwards succeded my last, and greatest; for he, whom I so much esteemed prooued false; all the paines I suffered left vnrewarded, not thought on. What hazards I had runne for his loue, what dangers pass'd? and neuer shun'd, to satisfie his mind, his owne soule shall demonstrate, my tongue neuer relate; but this he must giue me leaue to say, that neuer man was more vniust, nor causlesly vn­kind; Into this Caue I then confined my selfe, and hence I haue not stirred, further then you finde me, nor will, heere purposing to end, and with my deerest son be laid, who only was to me constāt in affection; & to him, daily doe I perform those rights belōging to the dead, after the māner of our coun­try; In these parts you can finde no more then now you see, my miserable spectacle, and this Caue, but at the end of the plaine you shall finde an other Bridge kept by two strong Knights, as any this Kingdome yeelds, yet I think, to you, will be but like the others, if they try them selues, which I desire they should not doe, but that you will for my sake passe them. So I may doe that with honor answered the King, I shall willingly doe this, or any other ser­uice you shall please to command: but in requitall, I must beg one fauour of you, which must not be denyed. She protested she would obay him in a­nything.

Then said he, leaue this sad abiding for a while, and your dead loue, to goe to a liuing friend; nor will I vrge you to goe from sadnesse quite, hauing such cause of sorrow, but to a sad abyding, yet a ioyfull meeting. Your fa­ther Detereus is not, (as you imagined) lost in his Ambassage, though lost to all content, but liues an Hermits life on a Rock, before Saint Maura; much he desires to know of your safety, and inioyned me to enquire of you, if euer I hapned to this Country. I promised him I would, not being able to perswade him from that place: goe you then to him, and carry comfort with you to his age; if you cannot bring him thence, you may abide with him, and thus not leaue sorrowing, hauing still so sad a subiect before you, as to behold so worthy a mans low state, but if true iudgment rule in either, to ouer rule passion, I hope to see you both, againe your selues. She was strook with amazement to heare this newes; but so perfectly hee discoursed of her fathers affaires, and so truly described him, as shee knew hee spake but truth [...] whereupon shee resolued to goe thither, and vpon that, sent for her Knights that kept the other Bridge, to attend her, while Am­philanthus againe desired to heare more of the sad story; then Sir said shee, heare the last.

When I was a Widdow, and suffered so many crosses, my poore beauty decayed, so did his loue? which though he oft protested to bee fixed on my worth, & loue to him, yet my face's alteration gaue his eyes distaste, or liber­ty from former bands, to looke else where, and so he looked, as tooke his heart at last from me, making that a poore seruant to his false eyes, to fol­low still their change. I grieued for it, yet neuer lessned my affection blaming such cruelty, and cruelty for lodging in him, not himselfe for being cruell; so as my loue grew still, and in a strange manner, to affect where losse was, [Page 336] where vnkindnesse, vngratefulnesse, scorne, and forsaking dwelt, (odd mo­tiues to loue) yet lou'd I the keeper of these wrongs, lamented the sense of them, pined in my misery; and yet Sir, truly can I not hate this man, but loue him stil so wel, as if he could look backe on me with loue, all former ills should be forgotten, but that cannot be, such an vnfortunate strangnes hath beene betwixt vs, as wee neuer meete [...] or if we did, what can this wrinckled face, and decayed beauty hope for? yet were I blessed, if hee did but thus much, speake kindly to mee, pittie me, and vse mee courteously, who haue suffered enough to merit this respect: but I thinke selfe accusing falshood makes him shunne me. Alas doe not so, for I forgiue all, and affect thee still, and dye will i [...] this loue. You did (said Amphilanthus in your discourse) touch vpon a quality rare in women, and yet I haue seene some excellent things of their writings, let me be so much bound to you, as to heare some of your Verses. Truely Sir said she, so long it is since I made any, and the subiect growne so strange, as I can hardly cal them to memory which I made, hauing desired to forget all things but my loue, fearing that the [...]ight, or thought of them, would bring on the ioyes then felt, the sorrowes soone succeeding. This is but an excuse said he; Truly Sir said she, it is truth, yet I thinke I can say the last I made, which were vpon this occasion; one time after he had begun to change, hee yet did visite mee, and vse mee somtimes well, and once so kindly, as I grew to hope a little, whereupon I writ these lines lying in an Orchard, vnder a great Quince tree, the weather being as if it did threaten my teares to follow, the drops then following; they were these.

And perfect are you sweet Bellamira, said the King in this Art, pittie it is, that you should hide, or darken so rare a gift. His commendations brought the fruite of gayning more, and so they pass'd some two dayes, till shee was ready to take her iourney; the Kings then parting from her, and following their search, being discouerd to the Lady by an vnlook'd for meanes; for Amphilanthus at his first comming into the Caue, being confident of not being knowne, pulld off his Helme, while Bellamira was gone to the mo­nument, at her returne seeing his face, she fell on her knees, blushing at her errour: My Lord said she, the afflictions which make me ignorant of all [...]hings but themselues, haue caused my forgetfullnes vnto you, which I most humbly craue pardon for. He admired how she knew him, desiring to bee made certaine of the cause, and meanes of her knowledge, (being extreamely sorry to be discouered.) Be not displeased great Prince said she, that your seruant (my poore selfe) knowes your excellency, since heere you shall com­mand, what it shall please you, and be knowne but as you name your selfe; only giue me leaue to expresse what ioy my afflicted heart did little expect in beholding in this my sad dwelling, the most matchlesse Prince the earth carryes, and may glory in bearing. But Madame said hee, how doe you I beseech you know me? My Lord said she, I attended on the Kings Neece, in [...] iourney she was pleased to make, out of too much pride, and conceit of her beauty, being enough to be liked, but too little to be defended in field. Into Italy (among other places) shee went, and then it was my happines to see you, and the honor of chiualry in you, which the poore Prince my Ladies seruant found; for after you had cast him to the ground, she cast him out of her fauor, scorning any after but your selfe, yet not louing you, because you wonne the prize from her beauty to your Mistris. The King did very well remember that accident, and so discoursing a little more to that purpose they concluded, with her promise not to disclose him, or to know him to be other then the Lost Man, and that was the reason she so freely disclosed her passions to him. Sh [...] tooke her way towards Saint Maura, the two Kings higher into the Country, though no way likely to finde the Ladyes, yet first for them who could lay those memories apart, trauelling through the deli­cate parts of Greece, till they came to Romania, passing many aduentnres vn­der the name of the Lost Man, one being necessary to be remembred.

On the skirts of Romania they came into a place, Rockey, and hilley no­thing but Heath, and some small shrubs to shelter rayne, Sunne, or any thing from one; the mighty Rocks which shewed their swelling sides, appeard like Swannes in their neasts, when breeding, and angry at passengers for [Page 338] troubling them: white as they, and fringed with Holly trees, the wayes sto­ny, and troublesome, so as they walked on foote, and their Squires led their Horses. Defirous to see rarities, Olorandus went among them, Amphilanthus keeping on in a path. The braue Bohemian seeking among them, at the last hapned to one, which was wonderfull to behold, a Rocke of great height, and bignesse; the midst of which, was cleft to the bottome, so euen, and iust, as if cut by hands, yet was it impossible for hands to doe it. Nature shew­ing how neere she can come to Art, and how far excell it. Beyond this was an other Rocke, in which was a little Caue, and in that a man lying, it was so shallow in the body of it, as he might discerne him to lye on his left side, his face from the light, in Pilgrims cloathes, his staffe and bag by him, and to add to this sad sight, his voyce agreed to make him knowne mi­serable [...] breaking into these complaints. Vngratefull wretch, monster of man [...]kinde, why liue I still to poyson the sweete Aire with my vild breath­ing? what wickednesse is there, that I abound not in, and haue committed? false, trecherous, and vngratefull I haue beene; dye then with shame, wrap'd round about thee: dye Dolorindus, and neuer let thy vnworthy face be more beheld, nor thy false eyes behold the light; let darkenesse, (not so blacke as thy sinne) infold thee, and be as thou art, a creature vnfit for Hea­uen to looke vpon; Olorandus knew he had beene lost strangly, the manner, and cause was vnknowne, the other Kings keeping his councell til they could finde meanes to worke for his good; He stole away softly, and calld Amphi­lanthus, who presently came with him, where they heard him continue in his moanes, crying out, O Villaine that had a thought to wrong thy wor­thyest friend, to be vngratefull to al-deseruing Amphilanthus, nay more, to plot his ruine, and conspire his death. Antissia, thou art the cause of this, and I the more miserable to be brought by a woman to be a Beast. Amphilanthus pardon me, my soule begs it, & let the fault be where it is laid iustly, on vn­iust commands in loue. But what excuse can I make? say Antissia bad mee kill Amphilanthus, is that enough? O noe, truth tels me that he saued mee from ruine, from staruing, from death; shall a woman then make me forget these benefits, and only because I loued her? loue should not extend to hurt, or procure murther. I haue offended beyond pardon, mercy must be shewed if I continue, but mercy cannot I aske, so far hauing forgone truth, as my offence flyes higher then any hope can asc [...]nd to. Antissia, I now hate thee more, then once I loued thee, and more iustly, for thy loue hath made me worth-lesse, and spoyled my name, honor, and content; shame is the re­ward I haue gain'd for my loue to thee, and the heauy waight of vngrateful­nesse lyes on my heart. They were both amazed to heare these words, not being able to coniecture whence they came; the voyce they knew, and the name, but how this sorrow was, could not imagine. In the end they con­cluded to speake to him, and Olorandus began: Repentance said hee merits pardon for the greatest ill; if you truely repent, doubt not but you shall re­ceiue what you seeke, and the neerest way to that, is to confesse freely your fault, and then pardon will follow. Pardon cry'd he, I cannot be pardon'd, I cannot hope, I cannot be forgiuen. You may said he; And for that, I will ingage my honor, if you will be ruld said Amphilanthus. With that hee rose, and looking on them, knew them, which so much oppressed his weake [Page 339] body, as he fel to the ground in a swound. Amphilanthus took him vp, and Ol­lorandus went to the next Spring for water, wherwith they rubd his temples, and brought him to himself; but to what end? only to die again, for so was he afflicted, as impossible it was for him to liue, as they doubted: then Amphi­lanthus vowed vnto him (at his second comming to himselfe) that whatsoe­uer he had done, or thought against him, was then forgiuen, desiring onely to be resolued of the griefes cause. My Lord (said he) how shall I dare to tell you what I haue done, when no shame is so great, so infinite, so ill, as my fault [...] I am a Traitor to you, take reuenge, or let me giue it you. Stay Dolorindus (said he), fall not from one ill to a greater, speake to me, plainely tell me what per­plexeth you, and had you sought my life, I doe forgiue you. You haue (braue King, cry'd hee) said, what I grieued to name, it was your life I aimed at, com­manded by Antissia to kill you, and then to take her for my wife: loue made me vndertake this hateful practise, now you haue it, vse me as I merit, and ne­uer pardon so foule an act. Loue Antissius, and hate me, for he was likewise so­licited by her to murder you: but he refused, and would needs hinder mee, whereupon we should haue fought, but then were stayd by two, who told vs they were Amphilanthus, and Ollorandus. Antissius more in sense then I, knew they had taken your names vpon them, and were not your selues; he vnder­tooke the named Ollorandus, I the other, whose name had that power, as he ouer came me, laying me as low, as my sinne hath puld me. Wounded I was taken vp, but saw his death giuen him by a young Gentleman, whose father he had killed in a quarrell concerning the Princesse of Croatia, whom he had vnder your name abused. With the sight of his death, shame straight posses­sed me, and selfe-accusing infolded mee: for then your noblenes came into my mind, your clearenesse shewing my foulenes, your worth my blame; my heart I cannot say brake, but cloue in sunder: neuer liued any man to say, he was afflicted, that more truly left affliction. Soules that condemned are, can­not be more tortured, my soule feeling what can be felt of miserable torture. Antissius, with whom I would but a little before haue fought withall, I threw my selfe at his feete, I petitioned Perissus neuer to think of me, nor name any name might sound like mine, that you especially might not know my fals­hood, left your condemning mee might prooue worse, and a heauier punish­ment, then all other torments: for your blaming me, and so iustly would bee more terrible, then condemnation from any other. As he spake those words he sunke againe, and they againe rerouered him; but then Amphilanthus chid him, that he would not belieue him. Why, said he, can Dolorindus think that any wrong can be done Amphilanthus, which he cannot forgiue; and by Dolo­rindus whom he loues, and for loues sake: be patient deare friend, and grieue not thus, for that is not to be grieued at. Loue commanded you, when you were his subiect, twere treason to haue disobeied, or refused to kill a traitor to his Crowne (as I was esteemed). Comfort your selfe I am free from anger, or spleene; I will not say I forgiue, I say you erred not, nor I remember ought, but our first meeting, and our friendship, let all other (like Phansies) passe, I am thy friend, and will cherish thee, and loue thee as I did; yet must I [...] blame Antissias forgetfulnesse, and causelesfury. When did I offend her so much, to be so irreconciliably displeased? how did I vex her, to bee vnsatisfied with ought, but my life? or what could my death bring her?

[Page 344] Dolorindus as much ouer-waighed with ioy, and kindnes, as before pressed with sorrow, could with as little power withstand the fury of the kind passi­on, so as with teares, and deare loue, he fell at Amphilanthus his feete, kissing them with such affection, as hee was forced to throw himselfe by him, to make him leaue, and in his armes hold him as fast, as his loue tied him to him. O Amphilanthus, cri'd he, why doe you thus exceede all possibilitie for man, how noble soeuer, to be a shadow to you, much lesse to equall you? will you gather together all perfections in you to be admired, and enuied by men? or indeed be as you are, fit, and only deseruing to bee eternized for magnani­mious, and glorious spirit. Your kindnes exceeds my act, said he, and such expressions of loue find I in you, as I am glad rather of this accident, where­by I enioy them, then of the want of this cause, should I haue missed the truth and knowledge of your loue. Neuer was more kindnesse shewed in offering and accepting, in confessing and forgiuing, then betweene these two. Olloran­dus (when they had for a while continued their discourse, and all former bu­sinesses razed like Castles belonging to Traitors) desired to know who they were that had taken their names vpon them. Truly, said Dolorindus, I know not, for one kild, the other dying, desired that he might be so much fauord, as neuer to be spoken of, nor his companion, being something neare mee in shame: but as his fault was lesse, the lesse sensible. Speake no more of this, said Amphilanthus. I haue done, said Dolorindus, for little ioy can it bee to mee, if not by that to see your gratious fauour. But so he died, saying onely they were Gentlemen, and had taken those names for their honour, and his com­panions gaining the Princesse of Croatia, whom after he vildly left, and for­sooke. Then did Amphilanthus relate his finding that Princesse, her discourse to him and his conference with her women; which much pleased Ollorandus, especially when he heard what gaine they had by those names, being glad to heare such reuerence was done to them. Amphilanthus was contrary, for though hee loued best to doe well, yet he cared not how little he was told of it, hating flattery, as much as hee loued worth, and that was best of any man; nay so nice he was, as he would rather doubt flattery, then let him­selfe thinke he heard but truth of himselfe. He left not till he had made Dolo­rindus leaue his habits of a long Gowne and Staffe, to change them (as come home againe) to a sword and armour, his trauaile on foote to horse-backe, and contrary to his expectation, or resolution to be once more a warrior. But this he gaind, to be licensed to trauell vnknowne with them, which they also were resolued to doe, and so from this rude Rockey place, as from despaire to comfort, they took towards Constantinople. Into the Towne they went pri­uately, and furnished themselues according to their humors: Amphilanthus in Tawny, embroidred with Black and Siluer; Ollorandus in Grasse-greene, and Gold; Dolorindus in Haire colour, or a kind of dead leafe colour, and Gold, they hapned there iust at a time, which was solemnly kept euery yere, which was the day of the Coronation of Antissius, and the restoring of their Countries liberty. Here they saw their honors blazd, and remembred fame to flourish: among the strange Knights they put themselues, and as Macedo­nians, whereof there were some good number; they came to the Iusts, hauing made their habits after their fashion.

The Presidents was present with al the Nobility; and the other braue men that returnd from Albania, the King himself hauing sent thē home, when he [Page 341] tooke his iourney in the search: what Amphilanthus, and the other two did in these exercises, may be imagined, by the knowing they were Actors, else his acts as impossible to be expressed, as the starres numbred. Much inquirie was made after him and his companions, but vnknowne they passed, and took their way from the Court, after they had seene the fashion of it, and well vn­derstood, where, and how Antissia liued in greatest distresse, for the report of the false Amphilanthus his death came to her eares, which attribute shee imagined to be giuen him for his falshood to her, whereupon shee put on mourning, and all her seruants were clad in that Liuery, leauing the Court, and be taking her selfe to a Castle, not farre from the sea, where she beheld no­thing but Rocks, hills of Sand, as bare as her content: Waues raging like her sorrow, and indeed little but companion-like Spectacles, shee thinking her selfe those solitarie places, and looking on Antissia, as she in her sadnes looked on them; and thus had she continued from the time of the newes comming.

Amphilanthus, and Ollorandus with Dolorindus passed farther into the coun­t [...]ie, and tooke their way by Amphilanthus direction towards Neapolis, where they were to visit the faire Musalina, who by meanes made by Allimarlus was reconciled to Amphilanthus, betweene whom an ancient quarrell cea­sed thus. With all delicasie they were entertained, and feasted, shee being so excellent a Lady for spirit, wit, rare discourse, and the most vnusuall vertues for women, as she merited affection from any man, and some yeares before had inioyed his, and such an one indeed she was, as Pamphilia could not but confesse, fit to be beloued, and therfore neuer blamed her, but Amphilanthus for leauing her, not for againe louing Musalina. Hither it was appointed, that Antissia and Lucenia should come, and giue him satisfaction by repen­tance and submission; Musalinas husband being Duke of Tenedos, and where Amphilanthus had spent much time, louing her; but after leauing her, destiny so commanding, and his obeying to those powers sometimes against him­selfe. They came, and he as soone forgaue, as they heartily asked pardon, yet did he but conditionally forgiue Antissia, being for that to marry Dolorindus, who with her sight forgot his hate conceiued before, and with much loue embraced the match, Musalina must not be questioned. The marriage was performed at Constantinople. Amphilanthus comming thither then as him­selfe, her old Vncle gaue her to Dolorindus with good content, who soone after tooke their iourney to Negropont, she discreetly louing him, but he do­ting of her.

Amphilanthus was like the King, receiued and followed by all men, ac­knowledging their peace, gaine, and liberty to come from him. Then backe againe to Neapolis he, and Ollorandus went to conduct Musalina, one of his first Loues in his youthfull trauailes, where some time they spent in all sweet and studied for delights, the search being quite forgot, or left to them, whose memories were better of the enchanted Ladies, Pamphilia being left to the times deciding of her deseruing, Ollorandus like his friend liued and loued. Rosindy and his companion making what haste they could, arriued at Thesalo­nica, where his dearest Meriana was, who with as much loue, as hee had affection, met him: but when he told her of the misfortune, and losse of his Sisters and Cosin, shee grew sorrie for it, and had been sad, if hee had not been there, resoluing to goe with him to Corinth, where the Kings [Page 342] and Queenes had determined to stay, till they got tydings of their children; but it being impossible for Knights and Ladies to trauell without aduen­tures, this befell them.

A Lady of beautie sufficient, but of behauiour insolent, they encountred in a Chariot of blew Veluet, embroidred with Gold: sixe browne-bay hor­ses drew this Chariot, couered with clothes, and trappings suteable, set forth with feathers for the greater state, and for brauery one each side went eight Foote-men in those colours. She rid alone, as being beyond companions, hauing two Chariots more following with her Women, a troope of knights and Gentlemen attending, answerable in all points to this beginning of pompe, and meetenesse agreeable to waite on such a Mistris. Bare face shee rid, threatning all beholders, and as if contemning the Sunne, or being so well assured of his respect to her, as she carelesly slighted his heate, as either not being able, or not daring to harme her. Disdainefully she cast her eyes vpon the other more excellent company; her horses not so much for fast going, as with pride stamping, and trampling, raised the dust in passing by, so as Meria­na and Rosindy drew the curtaine, this proud woman seeing it; What (said she) is the nicenes of that poore troope, such as our dust may not come neere them? draw backe the curtaine againe, calling to one of her foot-men, and let them see their error, with the honour to behold me. Meriana started at the suddennesse, Rosindy was angry at that rudenesse, that troubled his Loue, but seeing it was a footeman, bad one of his men knock him, which hee did, whereupon the Troopes began to bussell, the Knights belonging to the o­ther Company, being so peremptorily commanded by their Lady, as they flew towards Rosindy, and from her, as if her words had stung like Vipers; but Rosindy, quickly getting on his horse, made them know, their haste was but to an ill end, and with as much speed, sent those that escaped, backe againe to their Lady, who seeing their turning, began to reuile them; but they now fearing his blowes, more then her tongue, stood round about her Chariot. She infinitely perpl [...]xed with it, calld to Rosindy, who comming a little nea­rer to her, gaue her ill manners the hearing of these words.

Pride and neglect being the beginners of this action, me thinks submissiue satisfaction should ensue from you that caused it, to mee, before whom you presumed to attempt it; wherefore let mee see that, and I shall fa­uour you to farre, as to leaue you, and account you a valiant and ciuill man.

Madam (said hee), had that fault been mine, which proceeded from the rashnesse of your seruant, set on to (I belieue) by your commands, I might haue seene more reason to yeeld to your demand, then now I find; howsoeuer hauing the Victory, I am to giue no satisfaction, but haue it in my power to receiue it, or force it from you; yet I am content, so you acknow­ledge your error to this Queene, that you shall passe, and withal I shal esteeme you a discreet Lady.

Acknowledge my errour, as if I can erre, said she? Alas poore man, how hath a little gaine made thee ouer-ualue thy selfe, and dis-esteeme her, whom thou art not worthy to looke on, if not, as the Ethiopians doe the Moone whom they worship. And such an vncertaine thing is Pride said Rosindy, which it appeares gouerns so much in you, as will make [Page 343] with many Changes, the Waines of your fortunes equall with your increa­sings, but take heed the conclusion happen not in that quarter. Shee was in­finitely offended with him, so as turning her face from him, and swelling with anger, shee bid her Chariot-man driue on, which Rosindy forbad, and whether she would or no, brought her out of her seate, and to the ground, Meriana beholding her at such alike distance, as her former pride looked on her withall; then did shee say (but terribly against her heart) shee was sorry shee had giuen them that distaste; other Phrase shee would not vse. Then did shee take her Chariot againe, but discharged all her Knights as vnwor­thy to attend her, and with her Women, and Footemen continued her iour­ney to the next towne, where shee entertained new seruants, one of her old ones trauelling with Rosindy, telling him this story.

This Lady you saw, and once my Mistris is Queene of Bulgaria, but Em­presse of Pride; shee is married to a Prince, who only out of affection sought her, being a discreet braue Gentleman, and for his vertues chosen King of Bulgaria: shee was daughter to a Duke in that Country, no lesse arrogant then shee, so as it is a successiue ill hanging ouer, and inheriting in that Fa­mily. She at first loued the Prince shee married very well, or seemed to doe so, and shee still doth vse him kindly, but often haue they quarrels, shee no way yeelding to him, accounting her selfe farre aboue him in birth, though his honour haue gained the precedence; hee is infinitely fond of her, nothing being too deare for her, but lately hee hath been abroad in Hungary, and o­ther parts that way, going to visit Ollorandus, when he came to the faire Me­lysinda, in which time she carried her selfe farre better, then in his presence, shewing what shee can doe, rather then what shee would doe; for wee all know shee loues the Prince of Iambolly much better, then the King; and in­troth for my part, I excuse her, since no greater difference can bee betweene men for outward beautie and sweetnesse, then is twixt them; yet on my con­science shee is vntouched, and iust to her Husband, it may bee Pride hol­ding her honest, for much she is laid vnto. At the Kings going away, she got leaue of him to goe into Morea, to visit an excellent Lady there, be­ing her Cosen-german, and married to the Prince of Elis, there shee hath been, till within a short time, and now is returning with all speed to meete her Lord, and if shee can perswade him to goe with her, to trie the Inchantment of the Rockie Island, where all the beauties of this part of the World (except her selfe) are said to be enchanted. Where is that Iland I pray Sir, said Meriana?

Madam (said hee) in the Gulfe of Venice, not farre from the mouth of the Gulfe of Lepanto. Who are all there, said shee? and how are you cer­taine of their being there? He nameth them; and the certainty of their be­ing there (answered hee) was brought by some of their seruants, who after they had seene them inclosed, came stored with griefe to the Sea side againe, where they stayd til a ship came by, and in the Cock-boat took them aboard, landing them at Corinth, where the king of Morea is, and al his Court, attending the end, which he hopes for as soone as his sons and cosins returne from Al­bania, who he purposeth to intreat, and command to aduenture for their de­liuery. Doe you know the manner of it, said the Queene? Truly Madam replyd hee, onely, as I haue heard my Mistris speake it, it is a place by [Page 344] their relation of Marble, built like a Theater, round and curiously wrought, at their comming thither they discerned nothing on the gate, but now there is an inscription which shewes it an inchantment, and the end how to bee gained, which must be by the man most louing, and most beloued, hee shall partly doe it, for hee shall release them from their charmes that holds their senses as it were sleeping, but cannot bring them forth till the fairest crea­ture in disguise come, and she shall finnish all: many are gone thither, and some put on disguises of purpose, but that will not serue, surely Fate hath no deceit. My Lord said Merian [...], surely you may end the one part? I beleeue you thinke so said he, but shall I try it? I cannot consent to that cryd she, for so I may be (God knowes how long) bard from you, no my deere heart we must not so be parted, Charmes shall not try our loues, we are assured, what need we farther venture.

Thus they rid till they came to a plaine where they found one peece of Armour, then an other, so many, at last a sheild which was presently knowne by Polarchos, who tooke it vp and cryd out, alasse said hee heere is Parselius his shield, and armour, what is become of him? Rosindy was in­stantly call'd vp with that voyce from the lipps of his Meriana, and seeing it, also knew it, then tooke he his horse, and kissing his deere wife gallop'd along the plaine, following the tract of horses and some blod which hee fouund in the way: to a wood he came, by the [...]ide thereof were some horse­men, Polarchos demanded of them if they could giue them any notice of a wounded Knight, or of any combat that lately had beene fought in the place behind them.

They said they were not to yeeld account to any, but if they desi­red to try them selues, they were Lads would shew them sport. Rosindy re­plyed that they were strangers there, and ingaged to attend some Ladyes, therefore they were not hasty of fight, only hauing found an armour which they knew, they desired to know what was become of the Master of it. Why he Sir, said one of them is hurt, and his companion likewise, both of them being carryed into a Castle within this wood, where they are likely to remaine a while, for their wounds are great & held dangerous. May we see them said they, at least heare of the aduenture? You may doe both if you please Sir, said one of them, but know and remember I told you so, for there is hazard in it.

I feare nothing said Rosindy to serue my friends; be they of your acquain­tance and friends said the Knights? yes indeed answered Rosindy; then said hee you shall heare the story first, and after you may the better resolue, so they lighted, and sate vnder a Tree, the stranger Knight (the rest leauing them) beginning thus. I doe neuer vse to tell a story to any, but I first know to whom I discourse, wherefore I pray Sir let me be so much fauored by you, as to haue your name, and you shall haue the relation: Rosindy began to doubt, therefore meant not to trust too much, wherefore he answered, his name was Caudalus a Bulgarian, the other his companion Larchos. Then proceeded the other, this wood is called the Forrest Gulfe, that plaine you pass'd the pleasant way, for there doe all delight to ride, and yet none but are swallowed vp when past that plaine, and arriued heere within this deuouring throat, a Lady dwelling within heere, who maintaines her selfe [Page 345] and her pleasures, with the ouerthrow and death of such miserable Crea­tures as passe this way, being ambitious of the destruction of all that call themselues, or are called vertuous, but she is my Mistris, and I am one of her vnfortunate seruants, held in a manner a prisoner, a Guard still on mee, yet I am appointed one to guard her, I was of Morea, and the worse doe I thriue for that, since she hates all of that Country, for hauing beene re­fused her desires by the braue Prince thereof, on whom shee will now bee fully reuenged, hauing got him in her custody, and no hope is there of gay­ning him out aliue, for she will hold him close prisoner in such a place as no force can get him thence till shee haue her ends, and at last his death; the Castle is impregnable, and she vnwinable, and thus his misfortune fell; passing along this way, in search as it seemed of his Sisters and Cousen, hee met some of our troops who encounter'd him, hauing demanded first who hee was, then knowing him, and how acceptable a present hee might bee to their Lady, set all vpon him, and finding them selues too weake, blew a Horne, at which came many more to their succour, and so at last with numbers, and his faintnesse loosing bloud he fell, and into their vnmercifull hands, his companion was taken before him, and both caryed into the Castle; with welcome they were receiued, because shee was glad in her malicious heart shee had him, and there hath hee remained now some ten dayes; his Armour they threw about they card not where, taking care only of his person to bring him aliue, which was all they could doe, yet I heare since by a wayting woman of hers, that hee is yet liuing, and some (though little) hope is of him.

Is there no way said the King to come at him, or to purchase his de­liuery? mee thinkes you being of his Country, and his fathers Subiect, should study how to doe him seruice. Truly Sir said hee I loue him as my Prince, and admire him as his worth meriteth, and could I but tell how to gaine his liberty, were it with the losse of mine owne life, I would venture it.

Haue you no power answered Rosindy, with that wayting woman you before named? she might assist you. It is true said hee, shee may, and will, I assure my selfe, but Sir said he, I am but one, and this Castle is full of strong men, and so dangerous it is to acquaint any with such an enterprize, as death were all wee could expect, and shamefull death, in such a sort as would be inflicted without gaine, but assured harme to him, if it were discouerd, it were plotted for his release; besides, so weake the two Princes are, as they cannot performe any thing in their owne defence, and if wee stay till they be strong, it may bee (for my Lady is extreame suddaine) they may be dead before our helpe come. For their assistance said Rosindy were they but able to trauell I would aske no more, nor I Sir said the other, were you two Amphilanthus and Steriamus. I am neither of them said hee, but if I may without boasting say I haue tryd my selfe in their companies, and haue come away without any shamefull affront; and for my companion he is lit­tle inferiour to any liuing. The Knight began to mistrust something, yet be­ing indeede honest, and meaning what he said, desired to see his face, Hee not once fearing any thing from him, who so freely had discoursed to him, lifted vp his Beuer, but instantly let it fall againe, whereat the Knights heart [Page 346] euen leaping with ioy, Ah my Lord said he, now shall we release the Prince, but you must venture a great hazard for it, you must goe to the Castle, offer your seruice to my Lady, court her, refuse her nothing, which fondnes will worke infinitely on her, and so much as you may by that meanes win the sight of them, and let me alone then for the rest. I cannot doe this an­swered hee, being a harder matter for me then winning the Castle, for I can­not be vniust to my owne deerer selfe, but deerest friend you may, you are not ingaged but to hate all women, what neede you care then what you doe to hinder their sexe. Must I make loue to her said Polarchos? Yes Sir said the other. But if when this is done and I haue playd my part, we should faile, I should hate my selfe, and vexe incessantly at my fortune. Neuer doubt it Sir replyd the other, but be sure you make enough of her, and then preuaile, for although she be crafty and deuilish, yet so much she loues her pleasure, as she will rather be made a foole in enioying them, then misse of them, and so passionate she will be, as you may haue any thing of her, and but satisfie her minde. Polarchos vndertoke the busines, and Rosindy went but as his friend; this agreed vpon, they went to the Castle, the Knight be­ing Nephew to the great Marshall of Morea, held there as a prisoner to serue her, conducting them, telling the rest that this was one of purpose come to serue their Lady hearing of her rare beauty, and vertues.

Being arriued at the Castle, they went vp into the Hall, euery place see­ming strōger then other, & so the harder to win. In a withdrawing roome a­boue stayres this Venus sate, dressed as an inuiter to those pleasures vseth to bee, her necke all bare as low as her brests could giue her leaue for too much immodestie to shew, her sleeues loose, and as she stir'd her armes they would rise vp and discouer their nakednesse, and surely white, otherwise she shew­ed too much for an ill skinne, although neuer so much delicasie, wanting chastity will make men distract, for how ill soeuer men be in their discourse, or liuing, yet they loue modesty best, and most prize it in their breasts, though their tongues say other. She had her haire curled, and dress'd vp with Iewels, and Rings, and many pritty deuises, as wantonly, and phan­tastically placed as her eyes, which laboured in twinckling to moistnesse, giuing occasion for beliefe, that that humor was most ruling in her. Vn­steady she was in her fashion, her head set vpon so slight a necke, as it turnd like a weather-cocke to any vaine conceit that blew her braines about: or like a staulke of Oates, the eare being waighty: her feete neuer but moouing, as not willing to stand, or sit still; her gate wagling and wanton, businesse she had perpetually in her selfe, and with her selfe, the looking-glasse being most beholding to her for stay; this woman (thought Polarchos) is fit to bee the subiect for this enterprize, hee saluted her, and most affectionately looked vpon her, shee straight imagined shee saw loue in him, and felt as much in her selfe for she neuer wanted that, amorously she entertained his his salutation, her seruant whispering to her that hee was a fit seruant to bee employed by her, shee knew he knew her, and therefore gaue credit to him, after she cast her eyes vpon Rosindy demanding who he was. They replyde his name was Cautu [...]us, & that he was of Bulgaria cōming only in company with Larchos; if euer loue did soueranize at first sight, heere it was, for so pas­sionat was she of the new guest as she euen almost hung vpō him to beg pity

[Page 347]He refused no fauour shee asked, but so temperately carried himselfe as she sought and he granted; when he had done sufficient to make her sure, and finding himselfe so deare to her, hee tooke occasion to demand many things of that Countrey, and of her Castle. She to indeare her selfe to him told him of her power, and at last, all her secrets concerning the Prisoners; he counterfeited an admiration of her w [...]tt, and seem'd so highly to esteeme of it, as if it rather were a miracle to be told then found in a woman, shee to make him assured of it, carried him into the Caues, and Prisons, where she shewed him many so miserable, as they appear'd their owne Ghosts, their bodies quite consum'd. In a Caue a little lightsommer, but no more plea­sant was the worthy Parselius, and his friend Leandrus, both chain'd togea­ther in chaines, and in each others armes, complaining and weeping their sorrowes to those walles, and di [...]mall roomes. O Parselius said hee, how wretched art thou thus to be held, not onely in fetters, but from thy swee­test loue, what will become of her, when she shall heare that I am lost? What will my friends say of me? how will all accuse me? yet, how can I right my selfe or they succour me? Braue Rosindy would thou didst but know my e­state, I know thou wouldst free me, or if not, thou wouldst yet certainly com­fort my wife, thou art to succeede me, likewise be mine heire in louing Dali­nea, & cheerishing her dearest soule, my afflictiō is nothing to me, must not she suffer too? I could beare all & more if thou wert not likewise to endure; paine vnsufferable, to know that Dalinea must be afflicted, death were nothing, nor these dying paines, if I could be sure she, dearest she, could but be patient, whē I consider her affection to me, the torments and violent passions she breath'd in my first absence, doe not they make me see her death? Oh my sweet soule, I would rather forgiue thee for forgetting me, then for dying for me: yet the latter were the worthier, and none indeed is worthy of thee, for none but I can so firmely loue thee, must this body so louingly embraced, and kindly held within her purest armes, be bound in yrons like a thiefe? must I cheri­shed and daily tended by her, lye here naked on the bare stones, and die like a va [...]lell? these armes that haue conquer'd, be sham'd like a murtherer? these eyes that haue seene all the world's beauty; nay, Dalinea, & haue bin kiss'd by her, must these eyes now gaze on dead walls, & expect sight but to see death instead of all my former happinesse? O Leandrus, had I died, and by it kept thee free, my soule would haue reioyced, and Dalinea bin better contented; but to die here, and thee with me, shee can neuer absolue me. Deare brother said Leandrus comfort your selfe, and if it be but to be the abler to die braue­ly, what neede we lament, our fortunes doth that for vs? be patient, and death, if not dislik'd will seeme enough pleasing; make it to vs desired, it will then be welcome, and beleeue it, the more we pitie our selues, the more we shall hate that which we shall goe to, and therefore the more to be sought; thinke but how fine a thing it is to be free from all vexation when wee shall neither trauell, nor feare misaduentures, neither be taken by misfortune, nor shaken with the harmes of others, when neither loue nor hate afflicteth vs, where all things are at one stay, no fall to hurt vs, nor rysing to corrupt vs, when friends shall neither be discontētd, nor contented, but in death Dalinea wilbe held from me cry'd he, else I like al the other wel. Could you wish her here with you said Leandrus? No cursed were I then sigh'd he, but I would [Page 348] faine once more behold her ere I died. To be more torture to her saide. Le­andrus, content your selfe dearest Parselius said he, and be confident, the Hea­uens ordaine all things for the best, then doe not repine, you haue made your selfe already famous sufficient to gaine sorrow for your end and reuenge; be then braue and resolute, and make bold Death (by your constant suffering) quake to assaile you. O my Dalinea doest thou thinke of me thy poore, but loyall Parselius said he, thus did he waile, and Leandrus discreetly, comfort being in equall misery. Polarchos and his Mistris harkning to them, she glory­ing in their distresse, he in soule lamenting them, but must counterfet till fit oportunity was offer'd, which in short time he gain'd, for so fond hee had made her of him as she gaue him the keyes of the Prison, and what else hee demaunded; Then did he prouide armours for them, and one night, in the dead time of the night, when all saue his carefull eyes, and Rosidi's were shut, stole downe into the vault, and there discoursed with them, letting them see both hope and ioy in them. Soone did this worke so with them as they reco­uer'd strength, and after some time were fit to goe with them; the night be­ing come for their escape, the honest Morean (who yet without his Wench would not goe) and Rosindy went for them, & carried them into an Orchard thicke & close where they were to tarry his cōming, which was about some houre before day. She loth to part with him as being the last time of enioy­ing, her soule foretelling some harme: but being so ill, not able to tell her any good to her selfe, or to preuent hurt, was onely troubled; he as willing to stay for the same reason of being the last, for she was pleasing; but when he ro [...]e and put on his mantle and other cloaths, he againe sat down on the bed, and taking her hand kiss'd it, she tooke him in her armes and kiss'd him, farewell de [...]re Lady said hee; my better selfe cry'd she farewell. Hee presently went downe (hauing the keyes) a back-way into the Garden and Orchard where they stai'd with his Armor, then arming himselfe he toke his way with them to their horses which attended them at the further gate. A litle sad he was to goe, though glad considering the cause; but so long had hee dissembled, and so feelingly acted his part, as he was caught indeed, such were her allure­ments, her sweetnesses, louingnesses, delicasies, and pleasures, as shee was fit for any seruant, and yet such her changing she deseru'd none that had worth in him, & yet had he plaid himselfe almost into loue with her. Being farre e­nough, the rest made sport with their companion to see his passions, and he truely confes [...]ed he could willingly haue stayed with her, but if euer said he one more be made such a stale as I haue beene, loue will bee vndone, for it will turne that way, more delight lodging by halfe in this sort then in twen­ty marriages. They were glad he had his content, and they by that their li­berty, so they posted till they ouertooke Meriana, who was much molested with Rosindi's stay, and well contented when she saw him, and happily did e­steem [...] of her comming that way which brought such good as the deliuery of Parselius, who at her intreaty deliuered the misfortune he ran into in this manner, Most excellent Sister after we had deuided our selues to followe in search of the lost Ladies, it was our ill chance to take that way that led vs hither (into this country I meane) where first we met a pretty aduenture, a liuely Shepheardesse blaming a lusty Lad for falsehood, she chid him, he an­swered for himselfe, and so cunningly, as though he surely were faulty, yet [Page 349] he cleared himselfe so finely as she grew patient, but then he waxed surly, so as introath some houres we were pleased with their discourse: especially to see that when they had vsed their best wits, they concluded with kissing, and friendship.

After that, wee met a Lady extreamely amorous, and of her wee had a story, whom afterwards we conducted to the town, from thence wee fell into the plaine where you found my Armour, and where wee lost our selues, for nothing doe I remember after I fell, till I saw my selfe in the caue, where I was visited by the chast Lady of the Castle finding me so weake as she pitied me she said, for me she knew, and after Leandrus. I had, I confesse, once before merited her displeasure, but now surely had died in it, had not your husband succour'd me, the manner was this. I in my youth passed this country, and was brought with much kindnesse to that place where as shee dwels, entertained I was like any King, and cherished like a Louer, shee inui­ted me to loue by lookes, and alwayes that an amorous woman can intice withall, but I requited not: she yet more charitable to mee then I merited, would perswade her selfe it was want of experience made me so slacke in not vnderstanding her, wherefore at night she came vnto my chamber, the doore I had made fast on the inside, she pulled hard at it, and was no questi­on angry to be deceiued in her hopes. At last I waked, and suddenly asked who was there, but in such a voyce, as she coniectur'd some other had also laine in her chamber, whereupon she went backe, and the next day told mee of it. I answered, I was sorry for such a losse, but it euer was my fashion to haue one of my Squires to lye by me in the roome where I slept. Truely my Lord saide shee, had I imagined that I should not haue attempted, but loue vrged me, and the better may you thinke of that loue which neuer before was offered, nor till that time had I euer any ill thought. I saide I trusted she did not blame her selfe for that fauour shee had shewed to me her seruant, but I had cause to curse the ill custome which caused my losse, shee tooke that well, and so kindly as I might haue receiued recompence for the former misse; but I was honest, and after kept my doore fast for two nights more that I lay there, brought thither by a Cousen of hers, with whom I got thence, but since I heard how she euer railed at me, saying, I had dishonour'd her with telling the story of her, and thereupon vowed reuenge, which now she had taken. Meriana smiled to heare Parselius tell the tale so hansomely, and all but Polarchos liked, who cried out that for his part he liked her for­wardnes nothing ill; giue me such a Lady still said he that needs no busines to woe her, but merrily yeelds loue for loue, and rather before then after it is asked. This loue matter held them all that day with talke, making good sport with Polarchos and his opinion of louing, while the Lady was in all the disorder in the world; for first she wanted her woman, then rising and going into her chamber finding her bed made and vnus'd she grew somewhat trou­bled, sent another of her seruants to call her Morean Knight, his chamber doore they found lock'd, then they thought she might be there, for they had perceiued loue betweene them, they call'd, she vow'd to put them both to publike shame if shee found them together, the fault consisting in not well ordering their affections from sight not in affecting, but the doore broke o­pen there was onely found on the table a letter to the Lady, and in it no­thing [Page 350] but this, liue better, and speede better; search then was euery where for him, when it grewe towards Noone shee went her selfe to the roome where Polarchos had laine to tell him of this businesse (being loth to awake him any sooner) there she found losse, and so in the Caue, and euery where missed what shee [...]ought, and found what shee shunn'd, which was want: then she tore her haire, called her Knights, sent them all abroad se­uerall wayes till they got knowledge which way they went, and with so braue a troupe; then all was discouered, the Bulgarian knowne and the o­ther, she was as madde as rage could make her, vowing nothing but death should satisfie her.

Meriana held on her iourney and all happily arriued at Corinth, where they were with as much ioy as that sad time could afford entertai­ned; the Queene being so excellent a woman as she won all to loue her, and striue to deserue her fauour. Dalinea grieued and ioyed, and all at once, as her passions present and passed rann about the round of her thoughts. Orilena wished for Philarchos, who with Perissus had taken likewise their way in search, but made some hast to Corinth, knowing it was boot­lesse to trauell in those further Countries to seeke them, who no questi­on were either carried by Sea to some remote place, or Kingdome farre off, or else by shipwracke cast vpon some Iland neere the Gulfe. As they came towards Corinth they met a Lady much distressed, complaining of a Knight that had abused her, Philarchos was willing to ayde her, and so demanding what the matter was, she thus told it vnto him, (demaun­ding, and being satisfied who he was) I am saide she Wife to a Knight mar­ried against my will vnto him by my brothers command, whom I obayed hauing no father; he was a man of great esttae, but no way hansome: neither was he deformed but in his disposition which was crooked, with him I liued an vnpleasing and discontented life, suffering his iealousie and all other fro­ward humours which tooke away the litle show of loue I bare him. I fell then into the way that discontent [...]d, (and so vnfortunate women often doe) for not able longer to abide his fury I parted with him, hee being for­ced in recompence of my portion to allow me a certaine stipend during my life, which hee at last was brought to with willingnesse as hee saide. Some yeeres wee passed in this manner, I going to a friends house where I remained some time, and was kindly intreated by him, but his courte­sie was at last discouered, and finding to what end it tended, I purposed to leaue his house, and did so; yet like a woman did not so much dislike his loue making which was the cause I tooke against him, as I flatteringly commended my selfe for being able to winne a heart, hee frequented my company after vowing all respect, and begging liberty to see mee which should be without touch to me, or my honour. Vnder this ciuill demaund I perished, for then did his second Act please better then the first, and I yeel­ded though he asked not, and so I was made an vnfortunate creature, for what danger such loue could procure I fell into; I neede say no more, I'me sure by this you vnderstand me, I was carefull of my reputation to the world, though to my selfe I knewe how it was wracked, all possible meanes to auoide reproach I tooke, as I thought, safely and cunningly I carried the matter, yet walked I in net, or like the fowle, that when the [Page 351] head is hid thinkes all is safe, though his body lye open to [...]ight: So did I blinde my selfe, while my action was brought to light, trusting an vnworthy woman, who for couetousnesse vndid me [...], leauing others vnsa­tisfied, that for meere reuenge spred my shame, which came to my husbands eares, and to my brothers, who inquired the businesse and found it so like­ly, or it may bee true as hee left mee; yet I writ to him, and so faire a letter for likelihood, and comming from a Sister as might haue got credit; but it preuailed not otherwise then to bee forsaken of him. Then did my husband take a disgracefull course against mee, that Country being very strict in punishment for such offences, I was condemn'd, and censur'd, and indur'd my punishment, but then I thought how this man for my paines fuf­f [...]red for his sake, I should haue found affection or continuance of his loue. hee also left mee, and in such case as I haue no money or meanes, but to sterue for want, my estate being againe seased on by my husband and yeel­ded him by censure.

I writ to Amphilanthus to assist mee, which his noblenesse I make no question, in tendernesse to Ladies, would haue done, but hee was call'd a­way, and I feare informed of my fault, which now I am doubly asham'd of, and grieu'd for: Alas Sir, I haue made a free though a briefe confession to you. I am the wofull'st woman liuing, of a good house, but ill life, of noble parentage, but meane disposition; yet, O Sir, for mercy sake pit­ty mee. Philarchos beheld her, of personage tall and well shaped, faire of complexion, good eyes, sweet fauour, and of so modest a behauiour, as if her owne tongue had not accused her, she had passed vnblam'd for any show of ill in her fashion, or lightnesse in her countenance. Hee pittied her, and demanded what he might doe to helpe her. Shee told him that if he would ride with her to her brothers Castle, which was within aleague, she doubted not but hee might obtaine her peace; yet dare not I aduenture within his gates said shee, vntill you haue preuailed: towards the Castle they went, being within sight of it, Philarchos spake to Perissus to goe first. Nay, said he, since you haue vndertaken the matter, I will not be so hasty to take it out of your hands, therefore do what you thinke best: on he went, and met the Lord of the Castle her brother, with whom he spake a good space, a ciuil fine Gentleman he seem'd, learned and stored with noble qualities, vnmarri­ed; but a Cousen germane liu'd in his house to gouerne as Mistris: Shee was not so young nor beautifull, as one might imagine any other cause then to order his houshold was the motiue of her liuing there; yet she was a braue Lady, more manly in her demeanour, and discourse, then the modestest of her sexe would venture to be, and so much that fashion affected her, as she was a little too vnlike a well gouerned Lady. Sh [...]e had beene hansomer, (a cruell word) but is true; and yet she might well be seeme a faire houses go­uernment: the Lord was courteous, and so kinde, to his Sisters ho­nour, which likewise was his, as hee tendred it aboue the rate his Cou [...]en would haue him, who out of care of all womens credits, as shee pre­tended raild bitterly against her, reuiling her for immodesty, for disho­nouring her house, shaming her bloud; more adoe sh [...]e kept, then he who it did more neerely concerne, yet at last so fairely Philarchos spake, and Pe­rissus so well wrought with him, as they got his fauour so farre, that he was [Page 352] contented to see her; but by no meanes in some time to haue her abide with him: they satisfied themselues with that for the first, and so brought her in to him; the next day they all parted, some one way some another, the two companions together, till they came to the neerest part of Achaia, to Corinth; then Philarchos meant to crosse the Gulfe, but Perissus aduised by no meanes to venture it, yet he preuaild; and so they got a little Barque which was no sooner vnder sayle, but with great speed made way, till they were encountred by a Ship, which would needs take them as prisoners. They were not made to yeeld as they thought, neuer hauing beene bred to any such thing, wherefore they brauely fought, and at the boarding got into their ship, fighting with such valour, as they amazed all that saw them, and made their party good a great space; at last they were so hardly laid vnto, as they found yeelding must bee their best defence, but contarily it hapned, for another Ship made towards them boarding them likewise, the fight now anew begun, the strangers fierce, and the others a little wearied; yet what most troubled them was that the two first encountred Knights got new heart againe, and fought as freshly as at first. Discouraged with that, and vexed with the blowes of the last succourers, they would haue shewed them a trick by suddden falling off from them; but the deuice was discouered, and they for their deceipt punished with no lesse then death. The two last were knowne to be Selarinus and Antissius, so the foure tooke their course to Corinth, where they were brauely entertained. Now were all the eight Champions together, none missing but Amphilanthus, and Ollorandus, and Steriamus, who was alone, who will in short time likewise arriue; Rosindy and Selarinus the two deare friends, hauing beene long (as their loue made them thinke) asunder, renewed their kindnesse, and manner of friendly con­uersation; into a walke priuate and sweete they passd, where loue possessed Selarinus so farre, as hee brake into these passions. Alas Rosindy, said hee, did euer heauen thus punish louers? was any soule tortur'd like mine, or so vniustly condemned to death? what did that chast deare soule merit, to bee taken away and carried from his brest that held it dearest? Why was sweet and dainty Philistella depriued mine eyes, and all my sense of hearing of her, accursed Sea that brought this misfortune, dambn'd Barque that betraid her, and wicked vanity that inticed them to such harme. Was euer beauty so treacherously handled? Did euer eyes see such mis­chiefe? or eares haue hearing to so wofull a misfortune? O Philistella, trea­sure of the truest sweetnesse; why art thou lost, and I in thee? Why was euer cruell fortune turned on thee, and why alone wert thou made excel­lent to bee fallen into this misery? Deare loue, canst thou not yet send thy spirit to mee, to tell mee where thou art? I feare thou hast long since parted from it, and too highly is it prized where it remaines to bee permitted mee. I mourne for thy losse, I dye for thy want, and assure thy selfe will indeed end, when I shall know that thou art not, wh [...]ch yet, I trust I shall not doe, nor liue to that heariug Why waile you thus, said Rosindy, since shee is but inchaunted? But en­chanted, why call you that nothing? Shee is your Sister, and you should thinke it a hard fortune for her to suffer such a mischance; but to mee it is death; but inchaunted, and but for euer for any thing wee [Page 353] know what old fables blind you, lest by enchauntments? when shall the best louer and best beloued be found? till then which will be neuer, neuer being able to decide it, she must liue inclosd in dull walls. Were not my louing armes fitter to embrace her? Am not I a more proper Keeper for such excellencies then a marble house? and is not Epirus a more conuenient place for her to passe her time in, then a stone Theater? where should shee play her part, but with her loue; where liue, but in his brest? and yet you make nothing of this but an enchantment. When Meriana was iniur'd, it was something, when her head appear'd, then there was cause of mourning: but now that Philistella the earths star is lost, she is but enchanted, This passion said Rosindy, so well fits your loue, as I must commend it, and be no way an­gry with your choller, your constant affection to my sister, moues in mee as much loue as I desire to haue from my best friend [...] yet I would haue you temperate in your sufferings. Why should not the best louer be found? Ne­uer was any such thing made (for I dare not name it againe for feare of dis­pleasing) but to be ended: was not that at Cyprus concluded by Amphi­lanthus and my Sister? Yes, said Selarinus, but there bee now both your Si­sters in this, and Vrania and my Sister, who shall fetch them out? neuer think of it, there liues none now they are there that hath worth enough to venture to haue a thought of gaining end to it. A disguised creature, I sure disguis'd fortune hath caused all this, let me not liue if I beleeue this tale. Wil you for more certainty goe and see it, said Rosindy? With all my heart, said hee, if I were sure to be shut vp where I might but still behold Philistella. That you may doe if you please, and I will carry Meriana to aduenture it. Ah, said he, now doth truth in friendship shine in thee most braue Rosindi, when shall we go? as soon as I can prouide said he, thē went they back into the court, where Rosindy acquainted the Queene Meriana with his purpose. She, who would not refuse any thing he lik'd or mou'd, gaue consent, and so appointed ha­bites of purpose, disguising her selfe into the shape of a Forrest-Nymph; to Sea they went, and by the directions giuen by the seruants, arriu'd at the rocky Iland, the Pylot knowing the place, being able to bring them the safe­lier to it without danger. To the Pallace they went, and round ahout it, be­holding it with all curiosity and care, at last came to the gate againe, which as soone as Meriana touch'd, opened to her, who no question, had ended it for all points but the disguise which was forced. Rosindi and she passd to the Throne and Selarinus with them, who would not be shut out, nor can any be that will venture though alone, he strait ran to Philistella, who met him, and together fold in each others armes, sate downe vpon one of the ascents right be [...]ore the other, Rosindi and Meriana in her new habits hard by them. No content can be compared to these happy people, because they esteeme them­selues so. Polarchos would not attempt alone for feare he should sit likewise alone within, therfore he wish'd for his sweet Lady he last parted from, or any other would be alike to him, so she were faire and kind, he walk'd vp and downe alone in the Iland til he saw another ship ariue, then he went towards her to see what company she had in her, he found many, & all determined to try their fortunes; glad he was of that, and they reioyced to finde one could direct them, but among these, who should be one but his old loue and late enemy the Princesse of Rhodes: shee was asham'd and grieud to [Page 354] see him, he was angry & as much displeas'd to see her, and therfore was lea­uing the cōpany, almost ready to forswear the aduenture, because he should behold her too long if one hower, for his hate. She sought by meanes of her selfe and friends there, to purchase some discourse with him, he shun'd it, and despised the humblest intreaties shee made; hee saw her weepe, and smil'd at the falling of those teares, shee quak'd for feare of his frownes, hee said he shooke so long time in his iron Cage for colde: shee sigh'd, and pittifully beg'd with eyes and heart for pitty. He scornefully said there was not a more foolish thing breathing then a louing woman, nor lesse to be pit­tied; for, said hee, their sorrowes are but like exhalations in a hot euening, odde to behold, but neither hurt nor burne like lightening: no more should womens passions touch our hearts to scorch them, or t [...]rne them to any pit­ty. Shee confessed her fault to bee vnpardonable. Hee answer'd, it was strange then her iudgement would let her aske impossibilities; hee alone, shee cryde, might absolue her; shee alone, hee said, deserud no good from him. Shee offer'd to throw her selfe at his feete for pardon. Hee said hee would take her vp, but to no commiseration from him. Shee protested her heart had suffer'd innumerable stormes of passionate sorrow since his de­parture. Hee answer'd, his body and heart both had suffered by her tyran­ny. Shee repented, and implor'd pitty. He slighted and denyed what euer shee petition'd for. Could there bee such cruelty imagined against such a Suiter? none but cruell man could doe it, and yet was not hee to be blam'd, for what punishment could bee sufficient to bee inflicted vpon a woman, that not only left louing, but hated to that extremity: none can be enough; and yet surely shee now beares the greatest this world can let her know. The other Ladies that were with her, were the Princesse of Samos, (the re­fused loue to Philarcos) and the Lady of Stalamina Sister to Nereana, all Iland Ladies, and of purpose ioyn'd to try their fortunes: the Princesse of Rhodes was like a Pilgrime, of Lemnos like a Pastora, and the other like a Shepheardesse, they had seruants or louers as you men call them, who by their mistresses fauours aspired to hope of winning; but the Rhodian Lady must trye alone, Polarchos flatly refusing her, who wish'd shee might for euer bee shut vp, and from all light, hauing such vnhappinesse. They ad­uentur'd and Polarchos sees them all like the others inclos'd. Now hee be­gins to bee desirous to see the manner of it, and how they sit within; yet alone hee feares to goe, lest he must bee placed with the so much despised Lady. Dayes hee stayed and none came, then he resolued to trye his for­tune, and so comming to the gate, finds there a young Lady in whose face hee saw loue, for hee will that his gouernment should bee seene, and little cause to doubt the refusing of it to one that kindly would aske it, hee ta­king the boldnesse of the long knowledge of that place, began to discourse with her of it. Shee, free in discourse, and as willing to answer as hee to demand, they grew so well acquainted as they left the aduenturing the ad­uenture for that night, and the next day made themselues belieue they lou'd enough to try for the winning of it, which they did, and very louingly were together placed in the row below the other two paire; but so, as his forlorne Lady still beheld their kindnesse to her heart-renting torment. Parselius, hauing now long enough solaced himselfe, would needs bring his Dalinea [Page 355] to aduenture, and Antissius, who had drown'd himselfe almost in sorrow, hauing visited each place where he had beene happy with seeing Selarina, and kiss'd the windowes with his eyes, where she had wont to grace his loue with her looking on it, would needs goe with Parselius. Dalinea, she put on the habits of a religious woman and so tooke her iourney. Philarchos and his Orilena likewise went, she in habite of a Country lasse; at the Rocke they arriu'd, and as the rest were receiu'd and shut vp in the inchauntment; Antissius taking his Selariua to him, Pamphilia and Vrania sitting in the throne, beheld by the rest, as fittest to be admired. Perissus went to Sicily to fetch his Limena, resoluing to try, and with as much cause hee thought as any. Steriamus who was alone in his trauels, hapned on a fine and vnusuall aduenture; for hee hauing taken shipping, came downe the Gulfe, and pas­sing by a Rocke, casting vp his eyes, he saw, as he imagined, Vrania sitting vpon the top, in a Pastours habite; wherevpon hee willed the Pylot to goe to the Rocke, which hee [...] did, and he landing at the foote of it, scrambled vp till hee came to the top, where hee found an excellent fine woman, her staffe and bagge lying by her side, and shee combing her hayre, her thoughts busied so as she tended nothing but themselues, and as she comb'd her hayre, she sung this Song.

By the voyce hee knew it was not his Vrania, neither was her hayre, though faire, long and bright like hers, nor so delicately shining as it selfe once had beene, hee was sorry and grieu'd his hopes were fruitlesse, yet he spake to her, and shee putting her hayre aside with her delicate fine soft hand disconering a beauty fit to be belou'd and pittied, that it was no more cherished, as by her song it appear'd by him on whom she had bestowed it, mildly made this answer.

Sir, said shee, this place so sad and desolate should not, me thinks, inuite such a stranger vnto it, which is onely acquainted with sorrowe, and distant from all ioy. My arriuall, said he was caus'd by seeing you, a power able to command all passengers to stay, and pay tribute to your deseruings: and this you may because I speake for truth, since I was inuited to land by a strange beliefe, that you were a Princesse whom I seeke, once in Shepheards attire, once lost before, and now againe fallen into that ill fortune, I thought shee might againe put on such disguised habits, and so excellent a creature she is, as you must needs be so too, or could I not haue mistaken. She look'd vpon him, and seeing his teares run downe his cheeks, when hee spake of losse she pittied him and finely made this reply. Alasse Sir, such is your sor­row, as I must (were it but onely for that) wish I were as you are pleas'd to say I am; for then I should hope to haue something in me to serue you: but so vnfortunate a woman I am, and a long time haue beene, as I can but la­ment with those I would doe seruice to, nor, except with my teares, assist those I most honour.

How came this fortune to you, said he, for no doubt but you were borne of better ranke then the estate you appeare in shewes you to be: Loue, said shee, hath tyranniz'd ouer me, as well as plaid with you. His sports, if but such as I yet feele, cryde he, are rather racks and tortures then delights, vn­lesse you will call them playes, as Dogges and Horses are taught by stripes and blowes, and such pastime I haue in loue, and so loue playes with mee: she that time that he discoursed, wound vp her hayre in strings of tawny, to shew her chance; then as if to hide it a little, or rather her selfe from the Suune, shee put a dainty strawne hat on her head, appearing like Ceres crownd with her owne plenty. Hee was desirous to know the place, the name of it, and vnder whose rule it was; but loth he was to trouble the sweet Pastora too much, who vnderstanding his minde, led h [...]m all about the Rocke, which was some halfe a mile in compasse: in the middest was a pretty fine house, or rather a Tower built round; shee had therein three roomes one ouer another, the top was couered with lead, and there shee vsed to walke and view the Sea, she had two maids that attended her, and [Page 357] a Heard of Goates, which shee for her pleasure, or rather to passe her time withall, bestowed looking to; it was for the quantity very pleasant & sweet, flowers naturally growing there among the stones, as Pancies and Violets, and others, what could be there shewed him concerning the place, she wil­lingly let him see, and told him it did belong to the Lord of Corsu, an Iland not farre off, but within sight of it, more it seem'd she was vnwilling to tell, but this the truth of the story was; shee was by birth a great Lady in the be­fore-named Iland, belou'd and wooed by many, but shee lou'd onely one, who lou'd her as much for many yeares; she was married to a Knight, but her affections were wedded to her owne choyce. He whom shee lou'd was also married; but, like her, to one he car'd not for: Their loue (for what loue can be kept secret where such barres bee for enioying) was seene and spoken of by many, yet few blam'd them, but wish'd they were free, and married together; there was another Lady in the same Country, with whom shee did much keepe company, and at her house had the happinesse to meete her loue; shee being acquainted with their affections, for what could shee hold from this Lady, who was her chosen friend? carefull shee was to keepe their counsels, desirous to aid them in their desires, and as kinde a friend as a true one; but heere began the harme to smother like wet hay in fire, smokes, but the flame was longer in breaking forth. This Lady call'd Siluarina had a cousen whom shee did dearely loue, deseruing from her what loue could bee express'd from one to such a kinsman, who was both that, and a loyall friend to her, nothing so deare to him as her loue, nor of what did hee take care in comparison of her: but being young, (and young men bee wanton) he fell in liking with a seruant that belonged to the Lady, where they lay, cald Diania, shee had others fairer; but this was by him chosen for louelinesse, shee was of as passionate a disposition, as hee apt to receiue, which was to the height of loue, he gaining as it seem'd, what he required as it also was found he did not sparingly demaund. after this, he was perswaded by his friends to go see a Lady, a great marriage, and to wooe h [...]r; he consented to it, and brake with his Cousen about it, she very wel liked of it, & incourag'd him in it: the spiteful woman seeing that, thought she would haue her time to act her part, & therfore hauing got a false key, one night when the louers had appointed a meeting, (as many they had, though still chast) she opened the dore, and going into the chamber, being certaine by the watch she made that she was gone forth, tooke the lampe which hung on the wall at the beds feete, and hung it in a chayre hard by the beds side, of purpose to giue her at her returne occasion to looke on the remouing of it, and to take a paper which she had laid at the bottome of it, wherin she had written the most vilanous letter for threatnings & reuilings of her for her sin, as she cal'd it, as it a little troubled Siluarina, though she had a great spirit, but that told her she had a husband, and so the knowledge would be dangerous, she had honour that would she be ouerthrowne: lastly, her loue might suffer, which most greeu'd her; for if all the harme had fallen on her, shee had the lesse cared: to auoid this and keepe all safe, she resolu'd to speak with her the next morning, for the hand she knew; but first her seruant comming into the room to see her before he went a iourny he was determined to make for some daies, she shewed him the paper. Hee was vexed, withall being afflicted that [Page 358] she should be in hazard for him, and in such a kinde, as his paines and stir­ring in it, would bee the worse for her reputation. Shee was more grieu'd to see him perplexed then with the businesse, wherefore shee did comfort him, and assur'd him shee would finde a meanes to salue all. Hee tooke his leaue of her, enioyning her to send him word how things passed; Shee promised that, and willingly would shee doe it, had it beene for no other cause then so to heare from him whom so dearely she lou'd. Hee gone, she rose, and being ready sent for the Gentlewoman to her, to whom she brake forth into these words. What offence did I euer giue you? or what cause of malice haue you against me to worke such a treacherous practise seeking to ruine me and my honour? She replyed that her Cousen was assur'd to her, and therefore she did it, that you, said shee, hauing such power with him, should not seeke to marry him to the Lady mention'd to him, or to any but my selfe; which if you doe, assure your selfe I will not spare you either to your husband or any els, but the whole world shall bee fill'd with your shame. Threaten not base woman, said shee, I feare not; nor thinke thou shalt make mee so neere thy selfe wicked, as to wrong my Kinsman or bloud so much, as to let him fall to such mischiefe as to bee thy husband: I know you wrong him, for he cannot haue that litle worth to be so fond of so vile a creature, or forget himselfe so farre as to thinke of marrying you, or were it so, neuer thinke tricks can fright mee; of any ill knowne by you that I haue committed, I am as cleere as ayre, onely suspition you may vrge, and that was brought to light by you, and the cause knowne to be malice, who will beleeue you? my life hath gained a settled opinion in the world, not to be stirr'd by your ill tongue; my husband is so iust, as when he shall heare you and me, he wil, I know, right me so farre, as you shall be punished and whipp'd for slandering me: What good then can you hope for; if you doe talke? which doe if you haue a minde to it, and beleeue it you shall bee no more spar'd then you threatned me; What witnesse can be brought against me? an enuious railing woman your selfe onely: What will that worke against me, when differences will be iustly made betwixt you, and me, and malice ouerbalance the report?

Shee hearing her so fearelesse, and knowing those things she spake to be true, found shee was deceiu'd in her plot, and Diania in her inuention, en­countring another manner of woman then she look'd for: shee therefore turn'd her speech, protesting how much shee had euer honour'd her, that there should be nothing to the value of her life neglected to serue her with­all, desiring pardon for what she had said, excusing her selfe with madnesse that possessed her for feare her Cousen would forsake her.

Thus they parted, shee carelesse of her danger in outward show to her in whom the danger lay; yet wished she for all her great spirit, that shee were fairely dead, and so her honour safe: it continued thus, her seruant returning backe againe, and meeting her at the same place, Siluarina hauing in the meane time visited her husband, and her Kinsman the Lady hee was to court, at her louers returne, they discoursed of all the pas­sed businesse: shee contented because hee was pleas'd, and hee to finde her faith and affection best contented, the Gentlewoman affraid, who [Page 359] thought to bring the braue Lady vnder her power, but her spirit was onely to submit to loue; happy she accounted her selfe euen to blessednesse in her loues requitall, but within one yeere after, whether fully satisfied with her loue, or inamoured (which if I might speake what I thinke was the truer cause) of another in that place led him astray from his first, and fell into the other as violently, if not lesse discreetly. Shee sweete Lady first condemned the choyce, but when she saw she could not by strong hand hold him, she fell to petitioning his returne of loue to her; she writ to him, she spake to him, she did all that a perplexed woman could doe, but all prospered alike. To her companion and friend she complained, she wept to her, she comforted her, nor would she beleeue a long time that it was so, but chid her, as if guil­ty of false accusing, but when she sawe it as plainly as all others did, she then pitied her, but could not helpe her; when she found no hope nor helpe, she vow'd to die a constant, though vnfortunate louer: griefe made her loose all rest, that made her distemper'd and so sicke, as none had hope of her life, her husband was tender ouer her, and tooke such paines, as hee himselfe fell as sicke or worse then she, who recouered, but he died; then did she sorrow for him whom before she scarce cared for, but noblenesse made her gratefull, and to haue that vertue in herselfe, the want of which at that time in her other selfe caused her torment. When she had performed those rights belonging to her dead husband, and held her selfe according to the manner vnseene for such a time, she was visited, and by her friend and louer who came together, bringing likewise his new loue, & her Riuall, who neuerthelesse she vsed well though she loued her not in that respect, but as her selfe she held a kind opi­nion of her, but her losse made her seeme vnpleasinger in her eyes, especial­ly to see him, as if in cruelty so cherish her before her face, which he conti­nued in to the height of neglecting, and scorning her who best deserued him before the other, as if to merrit the more from her, but herein was his fault, not for louing (that being a passion cannot be resisted) but for hating where he was sought, beloued, and had loued, for if he had not, he could not haue vsed that fashion he did; some will say it was to make himselfe free from her importunity; he might haue sued from that, and haue dealt more iustly and plainely, told her what he stroue by fashion to expresse publikely, yet when some time he came to visit her priuately he vsed her better, showing hy that he would not loose any thing though he did esteeme of it as nothing, this more then cruelty, and she suffered wi [...]h more then patience, a rare but ill example, that a woman who could contemne all passions, must yet be such a slaue to one, and one that slauishly vsed her. What could be lost she parted from, content, quiet, honour, rest, reputation, fortunes to succeed, for no match was offered her that was not resolued of refusall, nor at last any, all agreeing her loue was so fixed, as it was but vanitie to seeke to remoue it or gaine it from the place, She being in this estate setled, what meanes she had by friends, and her owne suite to the Lord of Corsu, this little Island or Rocke was bestowed vpon her, whither she came, & there liued in solitari­nesse once, & not long before Steriamus his arriual, her stil loued, though not louing Lord by a storme was cast there, she not at first knowing it to be him, tooke him vp halfe dead, tumbled with the Sea and wracke, she restored him to life and health againe, bringing him home to her house, and with [Page 360] her wonted affection, as forgetting all vnkindnesse, or rather to make her vertue in constant louing approued, she cherished him, and without showe of discontent entertained him, but nice she was to speake or touch of loue. He vsed her with all respect, and much kindnesse seeing her fashion to him, and hauing (as he might well doe) seene her teares for his harmes which she with care repaied; he staied there till he was well, but thence was fetched by another Lady, who hearing of his being there, and the danger hee had escaped, came thither; she was kindly made welcome to her, although that she knew she at that time was his Mistris, and this knowledge she had from her traine-layer, who out of hate I imagine rather then loue told it her, but the storme of her tormēt was passed, & now loued this Lady for louing him, her quarrell being but to her, that had wonne him immediately from her, so as this Lady was embraced by her, and as a friend receiued; for so she counts all that loues him, or that he loues, a strange expression this is of a loue, yet true it is, for this the Lady doth; she brought them to the Boate, bid them farewell, cheerefully he told her the former strangenesse should be no more, she said then should she forget it euer had beene, thus without passion, but with true friendship they parted, who could not in times pass'd haue said farewell but in teares, and such end hath likely so hot and passionate begin­nings to end in ashes, what began in flames; and therefore this last is the su­rest loue which will hold while the truth of friendship is esteemed. This Steriamus got knowledge of by pe [...]ces from her who would not complaine, nor tell the story her selfe for feare of misconstruction of the hearers, least the relation so rare should haue beene taken for an Allegory, and not a story wherein her vertue should be painted, and not found: or indeede the true cause was, that although she had with all earnestnesse, care, and study striuen to forget her loue, and miserable fortunes, hauing at last obtained all but hating him which her soule would neuer consent to, so wel she still loues him, as she will not let her tongue accuse him; nay, it is so to be feared she will rather blame her selfe then him, were it not for making her selfe by that vnworthy, and so that way likewise wrong his iudgement, the eare she hath is to preserue his worth, no reuenge in her but what her owne heart in­dured, certainly she resolues to loue and respect him most, she did with excellent discourse, and respectiue fashion vse him, who told her all the ad­uentures of the lost Ladies which he gained by the seruant of Rosindy, who was sent to tell him of it, and after as iust as he landed also arriued to his great comfort, perswading her so perfect a louer to goe also and try it, but she excused it with her vowe to liue and die in that place, concluding her dayes with her former resolution.

He parted thence, and so left the Lady Pastora on the Rocke as hard as her fortune, and as white as her faith. Steriamus holds on his way, and at last is within sight of the Rocke whither he must goe, being there arriued he came to the house, and at the gate he found Leandrus fearefull to attempt, least he should not gaine the honour of concluding, but he hartened him, and so together aduenture, Steriamus absolutely thinking it belonged to him, and Vrania who had beene disguis'd, and therefore that might be e­nough to answer those things, that like Oracles are neuer without antiqui­tie: As soone as they entered Steriamus like the other his Leaders ran to the [Page 361] Chaire and tooke Vrania, who with him went to the others, a place being re­serued for her; now were all almost in couples as they wished, Rosindy and Meriana, Selarinus, and Philistella, Antissius, and Selarina, the rest as they would, and came coupled, Polarchos and his soone wonne Lady, Parselius and Dalinea, Philarchos and Orilena, but still Pamphilia sits leaning her cheeke on her hand, her eyes lifted vpwards as asking helpe, at her feete lay Leandrus gazing on her, and as much imploring pity from her, as she begged it from another, with whom her heart was, her eies not in the absence of her heart turning to any other lower then the top of the roome, and there staied by the roofe, not with desire to behold any thing but her loue, and now his m [...]mory; all ioyed in others loues, and a fine sight it was to see them in their various habits, yet all to one purpose, imitating the world, which for all the changes and varieties she hath, must haue but one conclusion, and one end. Perissus arriues in Sicely without any aduenture, and with as constant a loue as he brought Limena met him, to whom he related all his fortunes, and the accidents in the late warr, there he encountred the two young Princes of Co­rinthia, to whom they came of purpose to shew their thankfulnes for the ho­nor done vnto them, both in Knighting them, & bringing them to the know­ledge of the wrong doer, and to be esteemed & accounted friends to the true and excellent Amphilanthus; He f [...]asted them, & with great kindnes intreated their stay & company to the inchantment, which they consented to, & before their going thence (which was not in three months) were fit for the aduēture, being both surprised by that secret serpent Loue; the elder falling in loue with a sister to Limena, borne many yeeres after her, and by a second Wife whom her father tooke after the death of her mother; she was a most deli­cate young Lady, and worthy of a braue seruant which he proued, both loy­all, and for hi [...] valour deseruing fame. The other with a Lady neare of kin to the King who was an heire, and willingly bestowed vpon him with con­sent of all, especially liked by Perissus, who by this meanes held him alwaies there with him, giuing him great preferments and offices about his person, pro [...]ing a Gallant Gentlemen, and a faithfull seruant to him and his Crowne, fighting a hard and cruell combat in defence of the Kings honour against a Traytor in that Country, whose head he brought and presented to the King. This he did in the iourney towards the Rocke passing by the Ca­stle where the ill man liued, who came forth, and chalenged the King, but the youth of Corinthia begg'd the liberty of the combat, and brauely perfor­med it; in the end they came to the Island, and there with the rest were shut vp, the places being almost full, for daily some or other came. By this was newes of the inchantment come to Amphilanthus, who with Ollorandus were newly returned from their iourney going into Hungary to visit Melysin­da; they had raised some pretty aduentures in their trauels, and had a more pleasing time of it, then in any they had made before; being free, and better disposed, and hauing got againe some of their old passions, or memories of them about them, which made Amphilanthus willinger to try the aduenture, and release Pamphilia, of whom he had let in a more courteous opinion then he had when he first blamed her, or thought she had done amisse, yet no fur­ther it passed. Musalina must needs see this inchantment, with her went Luce­nia to see this also, and to be an Actor in it, so like an Amason Musalina attires [Page 362] her selfe, though vnfit habits for her, who was no hater of mankind; Lucenia like an AEgyptian, and towards the place they trauell, Lucenia vsed among them like a countrey Lady in the progresse hauing on to see, but little re­spected, meeting with the proud Queene of Bulgaria; but now Leonius must be spoken of, who going directly into Greece, met nothing there for many dayes but the sorrow for the lost Ladies, hee had no disposition to sorrow, therefore meant not as yet to visit the Court, but as others did, he being as much as many ingaged in good nature to follow the search, determined vpon that, but then he came into a part of Arcadia, not taking the directest, but pleasantest way to the Sea; at the entring into this Paradice on Earth for sweetnes, delicasies spring [...]ng there as pl [...]ntifully as Primiroses in other poorer places, he liked, and wonder'd, not sufficiently as he thought, being a­ble to contemplate the fulnes, and richnes of the bounty of that Prouince, riding sometimes, sometimes walking, b [...]holding the rarenes of it, yet when he had seene all the varieties encrease in varying to pleasure, he was yet set vppon by a more admirable sight which was the most delightfull obiect for man to like, and this as well to be liked as any, being a faire and daintie woman, appearing a Shepheardesse, but such an one as AEnona was in her time framed as if but to be remembred, and set as a foile to the excellency of the perfections in this creature, so much surpassing description as conceit doth commonly excell expression. The young Knight beheld this shining Starre with amazednes, while she past not farre off from him, her aparrell a gowne of gray, cut square, a fine ruffe about her necke: a litle before it was open, the rest couered with pure white strips, but a more pure whitenesse ap­peared when the skinne was seene as white and soft as Swannes downe on the breast, her haire carelesly throwne vp, neither tiyde, nor vntyde, but cast into a delightfull neglectiuenes, some pretty flowers, and kno [...] of ash-colour ribon, being here and there placed between the loose fastenings of her haire; gloues she wore none, shewing the innocent vertue she was inriched withall, her legges and feete so delicately shaped, as they would rather seeme fram'd for showe then vse; yet were they but fine enough to carry the body they were made to serue. She went with a modest, but cheerefull pace, and being a litle pass'd looked backe againe, with which he was (alasse) strooke, and all his senses ra [...]ished, his loue onely a senselesse passion, especially when so suddenly surprising, and at best but a sportfull madnesse possessing, and ta­king the place his better wits till that instant dwelt in, her bright and faire gray eyes looking as if the Moone in all her glory of brightnesse could haue a companion, together her commanding beauty wrought so in the Prince, as he was a new creature, yet part of the olde man, which was boldnesse got so farre into him as he followed her, knowing that a man who men [...] to followe aduentures must not feare any thing: especially a woman, and so sweete an one. They passed the plaine, and so entered into a litle Groue, where he heard as at her comming exquisite Musique, drawing neerer hee discerned a Fountaine made in the fashion of an Emperiall Crowne with a Globe on the toppe, out of which like a full shower of raine the water came so plentifully, and showringly, as it resembled such plenty, so finely was it counterfeited, and the trees grewe so, as who hadde stood in the wood would not suddenly haue knowne whether it had rayned or no, [Page 363] so powringly high, and sweetely it fell like an Aprill shower, and so farre, as it came vpon the boughs of the circkling trees, ratling among them to second the musicke. Vnderneath was the place where many sat round, the water falling beyond them, as if ordained for a coole Canopy to shelter them from heate, and not to offend with one teare-like drop, lest that might make sad­nesse thought on: there did she with her companions in that life place them­selues, the Groue was much of Sicamore trees, the rootes of which, and be­tweene which were set with Roses, and other sweete Flowers, Violet, Pinck, and many such; without this was a fine circle, paued with seuerall coloured stones, into which the water fell, and made a pretty murmuring brooke, the waste of which deuided itselfe into two lesser, running as with paine to part from those excellencies, in teares kissing the bankes for parting from them. Mirtle and Lawrell was also flourishing, to shew them, that although Venus were Lady there, yet Apollo was often called, and for his sake his tree was honoured among those beauties. Many faire Maides were sitting about her, and such as had she been away, might haue been commended highly; such possession had this sight gaind on the Prince, as he gazed euen to blindnes, like one too long looking on the Sunne: he admired, till he lost sense to ad­mire, yet went his senses but round, for comming to the first place, hee had sense againe to loue in wonder, but out of that he was put, for the heate a lit­tle slacked, she rose, and the rest attended her, shee leading them, and one more then her wonted troope, the Italian Prince prisoner. He durst not fol­low neere, yet did his eies kisse euery step she took, while he imboldned with loue, yet a little with-held by feare, went sadly and softly on, a prety young Shepherd came smiling to him, vsing these words.

If Sir (said hee) this sight hath any way displeased you, the same may make you amends, for surely you see not such euery day; or if a former cause molesteth you, looke on these Lasses, and assuredly you will be cured? There can (said hee) be little hope of cure from them, where such danger dwells. You should not me thinks (answered the Lad) doubt, nor is it for a man of your profession to feare, especially Beauties; yet indeed I cannot blame you since al eies that haue seene these, haue yeelded their hearts as slaues to them. Leonius made no answere, the Shepherd proceeded; But Sir be not afraid, for belieue me, they are not more faire then courteous. Alas (cryd he) how can I who am a Stranger, yet a possessor of a lost liberty, and imprisoned hart, pre­sume to come where such perfections rest? Who dares approch lightning, no more dare I into her presence, neerer then to admire and behold her. I must needs say, replide the Youth, it is the lesse strange that you are touched, since all our hearts are subiected to the lowest of despaire.

I would I were but touched cryd he, then might I scape, but I am woun­ded vnto death, would I had beene a Shepheard as you are, and tended flockes, so I had not knowne the torment of lost ioyes, or so happy as to haue beene borne among you, or destined to liue for eternall good with you. Why may you not, said the Shepheard; many good Knights haue after great honors gain'd retird, and taken our liues vpon them. It is true, answerd he, and had I done any thing yet to answere my birth, or now taken order I would doe so too. Heere are (said hee) many occasions to exer­cise your strength in, wee haue games which when you trie, you will say, cleare force must bee found in the best performancers of [Page 364] them; besides wild beasts that often spoile, and vexe our flocks; nay, the last day, that rare creature you (I am su [...]e) most and only admire was in danger of a fierce Beare by misfortune let loose. This stirred vp his thoughts, O said he, why was I so vnfauoured by fortune, as not to be here, and being here, to deserue by my seruice, at least one kind looke from her, who holds my soule, and it should seeme yours: but if so, be not angry that I aduenture to confesse my selfe your Riuall, you haue already a little encouraged me, in telling me, all hearts yeeld, then I trust I shall not fall into your displeasure for being one of the Company. In all true respect I confesse I am (said the Lad) her ser­uant; but such are her perfections, as teach vs not to aspire higher, then to behold, and obay her, other thoughts wee are not permitted, but banish as treasons; and no more able are wee to giue birth to so high desires, then to looke on the Sunne, without hauing our harts throwne downe condemned, as our eyes cast wateringly for presumptuous gazing, begging pardon for such attempt. Dare you not loue her (said he)? can feare appeare before bold loue?

My hardinesse (said the Lad) ascends to serue her with my life, my hopes, to be accepted as her creature, and this will be farre beyond my me­rit, if I gaine so much; and that I feare, as something makes you doubt. I doubt indeed (said he) and feare to giue offence, because I loue; I likewise loue (said he) and loue you for your loue; for had I not been a louer, I could not so soone haue found your disease; I iudged you straight by my selfe, I pitied you as I doe my selfe, who fell in loue directly as you did, the first [...]ight strake me, I was wounded with the first dart her killing eyes did shew towards me, alas, she meant me as she vowes, no harme; but what wretch could I do when I was hurt? I durst not aske ought but pardon: she granted that, and weekes did passe, before I sought her fauour, and moneths ere I did venture for re­ward; but all this makes you (I perceiue) run further in your error, therfo [...]e not to hold you any longer in this doubt, it is the Shepherdesse that sat on the right hand of the fairest that I seeke to gaine, and now I hope shall win, for she lookes kindly on me, takes my pres [...]nts, smiles vpon my flockes, cherish­eth my Dog when he fawnes on her, who as if he knew his Masters mind, stil waights on her, lyes at her feete, when God knowes I could be he, and oft do enuy his good luck, when she doth stroke him on the backe, and playes with him; she takes my Songs, and [...]ings them, happy lines that euer gaind such blisse, to kisse those sweet lippes passing into ayre, as scorning other place then her breast, when she will expose them vnto eares should harbour them; she sometimes likewise will giue mee some of her making, and commends my voice, makes me sing to her, which I doe, and yeeld her owne words to her best knowing iudgement. She requires mee presently, and sings mine vnto me; then I say they are only good, when she doth grace them so; she answers best our songs befits our mouthes, and eares, these are not onely signes, but I doe thinke, or much do flatter my poore selfe, they are assurances, and thus Sir now I hope that you are satisfied.

I am (said he) doublie tide to you for your relation, which doth speak iust truth, and for your loue which in this shews to me. While they were thus dis­coursing, they heard a pitiful cry, & as it were the shriks of womē, which made them hie to the Plaine, where they saw the same fierce Bea [...]e hastily pursue [Page 365] the glory of those parts, ready almost to close her in his iawes, the rest of the women crying, and assisting her onely with their lamentable voyces, the on­ly helpe that sex can yeeld in such a danger, yet now came it wel, for the noise brought Leonius to her aide, who only sought to saue her selfe by flight, but cryde not like the women. No neede there was to desire, or intreate him to assist, for carried by the wings of loue, he flew to her succour; she seeing him runne to helpe her, turned her course that way, as shee ran, her dainty leggs were seene, discouering such excellency in shape, and swiftnes, as that had bin enough alone to conquer; she passed by him, hee standing still to encounter her enemy, yet did his eyes cast amorous wishes after her, his spirit raised in hope to meete the Beast, who gaped, as wanting breath to hold the ioy hee had in expectation, to deuoure that sweete portion of excellent daintinesse; furious to be deceiued, he sought to execute his furie on him, from whom he got a sharpe, and sower encounter, Leonius his sword passing into his throate, wherewith he fell, then strake he off his head, for hauing let a presumptuous thought enter to hurt the delicatest Shepherdesse, now Vrania had left that habit. This blow being giuen, the before flying beauty returnd, but in a more quiet and soft pace, which let the Italian with more leisure behold her, crying within himselfe; Oh that she had but as much affection, as I haue loue, then would she with as sweet swiftnes run to me, as from the Beare, which sight did in feare yet content so much, as he could haue found in his heart (but for her harme) to haue indured the Beast, and haue clasped her in his armes as she ran by him, her danger hindred his attempting pleasure, and so shee was saued, taking her sight into his heart, in stead of her longed-for selfe into his breast, passions were as full in him, as Motes in the ayre, flying vp and downe like flies in a hot day; buzing and swarming like Bees, that for all their pro­fitable hony bring stings with them: or like a neast of Waspes, that one time beset one with their fury, and giue no profit if shund or ouercome, except their owne poore bodies, worthlesse and gainelesse: those thoughts hee ga­thered together, as like a Fisherman, that in his net catcheth all that comes within it, yet pickes hee out the choicest, and appoints some to keepe, some to sell, some to giue, and some to throw in againe, as not fit for keeping: so did he cull his seuerall passions, some he chose to present her withall, some to hold in himselfe, to please her withall, others not to be seene by her, he cast a­way into the floud of his forgetfulnesse, whence none should arise to giue her distaste; a commendable vertue in Youth, to shun what may by Youth shame to offend; hee loued, and therefore was curious not to displease his best be­loued, his highest desire being to content her, by whom hee must only bee contented, hee shunnes all else, as she did the Beare, which yet he loues, be­cause hee brought him meanes to doe her seruice.

When hee had killed the Beast, hee tooke the Head, Paw, and Heart to present her withall; Speeches hee framed to deliuer to her with those won reliques, Prose and Verse hee summoned, doubtfull which should please, he stood as if musing what hee might doe to please her best; hee feared one while the hideous face of the Beast would fright her, therefore thought the heart fittest, and enough to shew her, as her prey, the Paw hee thought fit, because it was lifted vp against her, and if that, the Head as necessary which hatched the treason, of these three, and with these three he danced the Hay in [Page 366] discourse, and still ended iust as vncertaine and apt to begin againe, as to con­clude; a faire victorie made him thinke a fairer acceptance must be yeelded him, a bold attempt to saue her, boldnes might be waranted in that respect to speake to her, desert then claimes reward, how should the claime be answerd if not made? he must then aduenture, and as [...]e it, refusall cannot bee, where knowledge, and instant sight sayes, it is requisite. Valor must be adored, and loue cherished. Tremblingly hee stood, as if afraid of that dead which hee kild, his hands shook that held the head, his other hand strake off, his eies vn­certainly rold, that were [...]ixt to his ruin, his legs shakes vnder him, that against his enemies like pillars, vphold his strength and courage: and this is loue that made him seeme so weake a piece, and it was loue that made him so fierce against her enemy, he looked towards her, and sigh'd within himselfe these lamentations. Alas, said he, that that face the heauen of mildnes and sweet­nesse, should carry with it such cruell force, as with delicacy to destroy; why should those eyes my soules only comforts looke, and not with as much loue as mine, since they are fairer, mine more louing, they more beloued? those dearest lipps, let them not seuer, if not to speake requitall to me, let them not tel my bane, yet rather then not suffer me to heare that voice speak any thing, but if possible O speake but loue; those feete and leggs, the rich, and match­lesse supporters of this our heauen, bring her not to murder mee, lade your selues with pitie and compassion, then come apace, and giue life to the most pe [...]plexed louer. All this while she was comming, while he attended, as a pas­sionate man doth the breaking of the day, when he is to visit at that time his loue. Dawning and leasurely shee came, hee thought shee made small haste, yet came too fast if loue did not accompany her, and that loue to him like a delicate young Courtier, who is to make his estate by the marriage of a great heire; when hee comes before her, is at first timerous, loth to offend, yet dressed vp in all richnes and finenes: so was hee, his Helme hee tooke off, rubd vp his Haire, wiped his face, set on his most manly, yet amorous countenance, knowing women loue not childish men, how much soeuer they commonly like louelines, and the choicest beauties. Poore man to see what a busines he kept with himselfe were strange, that hee who but newly come to know passion, should bee in so much variety, and skilfull manner of learned knowledge to win, as those who after their naturall inclination change, and wooe daily, but to such it is pleasure and delight, to this young man torture. He sighed, he looked, he prayed, he wished, he did all, and yet nothing that might helpe him, for so long he was in these distempers, as either ignorance, neglect, or ill manners were like to be laid to his charge, who indeed was an exact fond louer taken, and spoild at first sight; the louing Country of Italy could neuer make him thus passionate, the beauties there were as ones owne Country, esteemed nothing so pleasing to one, as the thought of others, till they be tried, Arcadia is the place can onely captiuate his heart, and there must he tast the paines, makes him wish to be in Italy with freedome. O sweet place, heauenly Paradice (said he) what delights be in thee, but what serpents keepe them from enioying? stories I haue heard of waters; and trees kept by Monsters, but what rarenes was euer thus kept, as loue keepes her, and mee from asking pity, while he stood letting his imagination twine out the time, which he might, if acquainted with loue, or bred in his cunning Schoole, haue [Page 367] vsed to farre more gainefull purpose. She past feare of danger, secured by the death of the Beare, her before threatner, turned back, and came to thanke him; but what with her sight and words, he stood in as still a Posture, as if the Beast in death had also wounded him, which made that excellent Shepher­desse take him by the hand, and kindly demaund how he felt himselfe; but the touch of her dainty skin, with the rare softnes, gaue a more cruell hurt to his heart, then the hard sword had giuen (though death) vnto the Beast. Hee could not answer but with sighs, his eies raining showers of teares, and yet as through a wet cloud gazed on her: She was sorry for his sorrow, and wished her helpe might pleasure him, it was she alone that could doe it, but he du [...]st not hope for it, nor aduenture to demand it; then were the rest come vnto them, who stirred not, but looked like metamorphosed creatures, their hands fast in one anothers, she pittying, and hee that had what he could wish, yet fearing it, enioyed it not, which the Shepheard Youth perceiuing, louing Leonius as much, as man could loue another with no more acquaintance, stepped to him, Sir, said he, it appeares that the sudden ioy of this braue victo­ry, with the releasing of this rare beauty before you from such danger, doth too much possesse you, or else the same fit which this day I found you in, hath againe ouercome you. He now who shame instructed to be carefull, starting as children doe at Bugbeares, told him, that it was true, his fit had taken him, and held him worse then it had done before, which had caused that stilnesse in him, for which he asked pardon of the most faire Shepherdesse, and kissing her hand, assured her, that nothing was more comfort to him, then the rescu­ing of her; nor any thing more grieuous, then that he had been so rude, as not to acknowl [...]dge the fauour she did in comming back to thanke him for that, wherein he did but the due of any one to serue, and preserue such beau­ty, thinking himselfe most fortunately borne, and brought thither at that time so to doe her seruice. She mildly and modestly blushing told him, the good fortune was hers, which had gained not onely safety, but that from the noblest hand and heart; so taking away her hand (which was a death-like blow to him) courteously bid him farewell, with millions of kind thanks, and sweet words vnto him, euery one of which were wounds vnto his soule, because with them she left him.

They gone, he alone but for the Shepherd, began his complaints, partly to himselfe, partly to his new friend in this manner. Is it possible O Arcadia, the most sweet and delicate of all these Prouinces, that in thee there should liue so dangerous a creature, as at first sight should wound, and kill with the first touch? alas my friend, what peril doth abide in these most dainty dwellings? were these places ordained excellent, and alluring to draw men to their ends? are you made happy with seeing delicasies only to see them, but to taste none other then sharp murders? O my father, how hast thou left thy son in thine owne friends dominions to bee slaine, and by a woman? how will you brauest brother, disdaine my bloud vanquished by a looke? O Arcadia in your sweetnes I am martyrd, and one of your Kings blood thus you kil, are you not then guilty of treason?

The Shepheard who now perceiued this Knight to bee a Prince, and by his words an Aliance of that Country, hee kneeled downe, and thus spake, My Lord said hee, blame not this place for that, for which I [Page 368] doubt not but you shall haue cause to loue it, accuse not your friends, since if they saw your vallour and braue destroying that fierce Beast, they would without question glory in your vertue, nor be displeased with your fortune, or loue, since fortune hath brought you to loue one the most loue-worthy, and I beseech you what cause haue you thus to complaine, not knowing whether you may be fauourd, or disgraced, I see no reason you should bee discontented if not, that you would not receiue kindnesse, she so mildly, and sweetly affording it. Loue; Loue it was, and is cryd he, makes mee thus wretched, what can I doe when my senses in her sight faile me? how can I haue comfort when deadly dispaire makes me not dare to hope? what shall I ioy in, when I scarce may venture to looke on her, who must deliuer mee from this bondage? noe I see no remedy when I am not able to aske, or take it. I am lost and only found by dispaire, and desperate loue. Then did his teares follow those words, and groanes those teares, till the Sheep­hard began againe.

My Lord said hee yet heare me, there is a way whereby you may let her see your loue, and yet not speake it, your teares thus continually shed, your sigh's still breathing out your passions, your groanes foretelling death, will all truly witnesse your affliction, and sue for you; pull off these habits vnfit for these passions, & put on such as I wil prouide for you, so well agreeing to your humour as the cloathes, and the action shall make her vnable to with­stand so much pitty as must breed loue, and that loue if you then discreetly gouerne it, will procure your happinesse. Direct me deere friend said hee, and let me enioy her loue, and be assured I will make thee see I am not vn­gratefull. Then my Lord said hee, you shall put on the habit I will tomor­row morning bring to yonder Groue, but be sure you be there before the Sunne appeare, least they be there before vs, and after follow my aduice, so shall you I feare not come to your wishes end, but withall you must pro­mise, and performe assistance to me. Leonius could but with kind teares, and straightly embracing him, giue him thankes, and promise; thus they re­solued, the youth went to the next towne to buy things fit for the Prince, while he with sad thoughts, vncertaine wishes, and wrestlesse passions spent the time till his returne.

The Sheepheardesse who (poore soule) before knew but her owne beau­ty, now found anothers to master her, I would said she the Beare had de­uoured me, rather then this torment should perplexe me. Why did this Stranger succour me? of purpose was he sent to torture mee, must I be made a subiect to one I know not? and suffer afflictions for one I shall no more be­hold? fie vpon this strange loue, which makes me so strangly loue as to af­fect impossibilities, but I see I am but iustly punished for disdaining all the Youths of these parts, thinking none worthy of me, now I must loue one that knowes me not, will no more see mee, and surely loues an other. Pride, it is you haue vndone mee, I confesse my fault, I sorrow for it, yet Venus helpe me, Pan our Sheapheard-God assist mee, let not one of your seruants, nay poore me your seruant thus distressed liue; I recall my former scorn­ings, I repent my disdaines, I accuse my selfe more then you can blame mee; O ayd me then. Thus she pass'd the night in millions of such like complaints, till morning being come she rose, and hastely dressing her, ray­sed [Page 369] her flocks before their vsuall time, as shee was raised by this vnusuall pas­sion; to the plaine she went, there awhile she stayed, yet rested no where, sometimes shee walked a pace as if she would leaue that paine behind her, but seeing it so closely follow her lay downe embracing it, yet blushing would turne her face on the ground, and seeme ashamed of her owne thoughts. O Chastity said shee, why doe you wholy possesse mee? deere Diana take me to thee, but then did Venus as in rage increase her flames, making her forget all but her affections. Then rising, to the next tree shee went which was a Willow, and of those branches she puld, and with them crowned her selfe, casting off her strawne hatte, her Sun-beame haire falling downe at the full length, which with a little fine, and naturall curling reched to the small of her leg, and the rich thicknesse spread it selfe ouer her shoulders; there a­while she stayed, grauing some few words in the Barque of the tree, agree­ing to the paines shee felt, and condition of that tree, whose softnesse concur'd with the yeelding hearts of lo [...]ers, but the Fate giuen it to be forsa­ken, and made it to be the Garland for such haplesse creatures. Well poore Willow said she, thou shalt yet be my companion: and I will honour thee, though happier folks despise thee; then went she into the Groue, but as little stayd shee there, flying the company she saw there assembled, seeking new places, as all doe that seeke ease, and hope for it by trauell; so shee pass'd a­long the side of one of the little Brooks, her eyes still fixed vpon it, speaking sometimes, at last shee said these words. Poore Brooke said shee, how like my paines are yours, I seeke to flye from the Spring of my sorrowes, so fall you from your head: how fast sweete Brooke you runne in hope of eafe, so fast doe my poore hopes flye from my hart: stay, turne your course, and I shall hope to liue, notwill not be, you runne, and I continue in my paines. As she went on sadly bemoning her solitary thoughts, she heard as pittifull a voyce vtter these vnperfect ioyn'd words, Leonia poore Nimph said it, where is thy vowe? must Venus make thee change? O loue, coward loue to steale thus to my heart, couldest thou not haue come brauely, and contended with me in the Chase, or taken me in the time when I did reuile thee, and scorne thy power, but to set vpon me when I was quiet, and safe as I thought, treacherously to lye in wait and betray mee when I was vnarm'd, naked, and without power to resist, and more for my shame when I had sworne to Diana, what punnishment will that chast Goddesse lay vpon me for this of­fence? But foole why talke I of these poore things which in comparison of my woe are but blossoms. I loue, and must loue, what then? I will loue, and die in loue, then shall that Cruell see written in my heart that murther thus committed, vnkind, alasse my soule melts as these teares, and yet to thee my paines are no more waighed then bubbles, my hart weepes blood, pitty me then, say you do pitty and saue me, pitty said the Sheepheardes is that I want; what new companion in my woe haue I found heere? with that she went towards the place from whence as shee imagined that sad voyce did proceede, when as a little from the banke vnder the shade of mirtle trees, which made as it were a Cabine of them selues, lay a Forrest Nimph, her apparrell of colour and fashion like Diana, buskins vpon her leggs of white, her haire tyd vp, only some of the shortest, and about the temples curled, crowned with Roses, Hyacinths, she lay with her head toward her, [Page 370] who with a soft pace went on till she came iust behinde her, then viewing her earnestly, her eyes being so full of loue, as all louing creatures found a power in them to draw them to her call, especially those eyes which were so much hers as they could not stirre but to her will, commanding them so, as shee could with her looking on them with louing force, bring them to her owne; and so it now prooued, for those eyes which full of teares were seeing them­selues in the streame, shewing their watry pictures to each other, her earnest viewing the Nimph with a naturall humblenesse to hers, drew her lookes to her, ioy then appear'd in the Nimphes face, yet straight was that clowded with sorrow; She rose, and with a timerous (though she imagin'd bashe­full) countenance and fashion, saluted her.

I did thinke faire Nimph, said the louing Shepherdesse, that it had been impossible for me to finde any so like my selfe vnhappily wounded. Why are you hurt faire Shepherdesse, said shee? alas I am sorry for you, and wish your remedy, for none knowes the torment of dispaire like to my selfe, and therefore in charity would haue none else afflicted with it, but it is very strange that such beauty should complaine. Alas said shee, oft times perfe­ction is turnd to the contrary, and so is it in me, if in me be that you spake of: but I pray sweet Nimph, let me take boldnesse to demand of you, of whence you are and what hath brought you hither. Loue said she, for this must be the first, and last of my discourse, all other matters how great soeuer, being but dependances of this. My name (said shee) is Leonia, my profession was what my habits tell me to be, but loue hath altered me, no more must I a­buse my Mistris who I serued, since I haue left her and an new one now haue gain'd, a poore change, (yet the fruit of change) when for liberty and plea­sure I get beggery and slauery: Then this passion, rare Shepherdesse, for nothing but misery followes it. Alas it is too late, said shee, you giue this couusell out of time, for I am in the prison too fast locked, by any meanes, but by loue to bee freed. Are you in loue then said Leonia? Oh haples m [...], why, said the Shepheardesse, doth that grieue you? It grieues me that such sweetnesse should be vexed. It grieues me more (crid shee) that I loue in de­spaire. Thus both afflict me, said Leonia, and on these doe I plaine, and in them die. Let vs sit downe and tell our woes said she? Mine are all endlesse said the Nimph, yet I will not refuse to doe what you command, for you may helpe me if you will but pitty mee. I pitty you, said shee, and loue you, for in you I see (O deere remembrance) many things which report sent my loue vnto mine eyes; with that the Nimph did blush, the Shepher­desse went on: Be not offended sweetest Nimph, said she, for he was excel­lent whom I did loue, and doe loue, rare for true beauty and valour, and O, too braue for me; none can be so (sigh'd shee) faire Shepherdesse, for the fairest, and brauest must sue to you for grace: but I did blush to heare that I should seeme so fauourably blessed in your all-conquering eyes, as to bee thought but to resemble him that happy man whom your great goodnesse loues. But to goe on, I was by my owne sute to my parents chösen a Nimph, and accepted into the number and seruice of Dianas seruants, being giuen to all those sports that Goddesse did affect, but especially, to throwing my Dart at markes, and shooting in my bow at beasts, or any thing, so cunning I was in that exercise as I could hit a bird at great distance; oft times I would [Page 371] take my Grayhounds, and course the Deare, or Haire, being so nimble, as I could follow them where ere they went; these, and many other harmelesse delights I liued in, till one day sacrifising to Diana, vnhappily for mee, there came a Youth, who hauing kild a terrible Beast, offered it to the Goddesse, as the Princesse of the Woods and Desarts, this offering prooued strange, ma­king my heart the Victim bleeding, and lying on the Altar, dedicated to his loue, thus doubly had hee conquerd, I fainted, fearing the chast Goddesse, yet I was rescued by Venus, who promisd her assistance, but not so well armd by her, as not afraid of Diana, I fled from those parts, and since haue I roamed about, directed by mine owne despaire, for neuer since haue I se [...]ne my loue; the forgetfull Goddesse hauing enough in winning, but scorning too much care hath I feare forgotten me, contented with my yeelding, but carelesse of my proceeding; I seeke still, but I know not with what hope, I haue wept, and grieued, and so I feare still must, and thus liues, and perpetually laments the poore vnblessed Leonia. The Shepherdesse catching her in her armes, Ah my companion in my woes (said she), let vs still liue together fittest for our for­tunes, let our teares be shed together, our sighs breathed together, and let vs neuer part, but alwaies keepe together. This was what the Nimph desired, being so glad of that embracement, as she could haue found in her heart to haue forgot her habits, but danger of loosing all, if not gouernd with mode­stie, till apter time gaine fitter oportunity of discouery, she only with an affec­tionate kisse, and that shee would not suffer her selfe to misse, being such an one, as liked Veralinda (for so the Shepherdesse was called) better then any of her fellows kisses, for this seemd more passionatly kind, gaue liberty to that, and then began her owne discourse thus. My name is Veralinda, daughter I am to the Kings Shepherd, who dwels vpon yonder Hill, his place, estate in goods, and some kind of thing in me, which these people here call beauty, hath made me to be sought by many, but I haue still refused all, truly I must say with some neglectiuenesse; for which I am punished, and if I flatter not my selfe aboue my merit, the paine being more then the offence, for I am made to loue in dispaire, to hope in losse, and affect one I know not, or can a­spire to thought of euer seeing him againe, Destiny preuailing in this, & I am left a poore example of the Fates tyranny: for how can I hope, that if I meet him, hee could fancy mee: he a Knight, I a poore Maide; he a Prince it may be, and surely is, for Princely vertues dwell in him, beautie vnexpressable, and such as but in you I neuer saw any like him, and so like are you, as I loue you for his sake so much, as loue can command loue to the Image of their Deare.

Valiant hee is aboue expression, and mild, and curteous; but what doth grieue my soule most, is, he [...] surely loues. And surely would loue you (said the Nimph) if hee could bee but happy with the knowledge, in the meane space grace mee with your fauour, which I will striue like him to merit, let mee enioy those sweete embracements you would yeeld to him and thinke I am your loue, which I will doe by you, and in that thought till wee bee blessed with perfecter enioyings, we shall haue some [...]ase.

She condescended, and so they kissed againe, wishing and louing, they re­mained, passing many such pleasant times, till at last the wonder of such [Page 372] affection twixt women was discouered, and it may be, had then bin brought to light, had not the Shepherdesses arriued to his griefe, and no way to her content, who truly loued the sweete conuersation and discourse of this Nimph: to the Fountaine they then altogether tooke their way, the Nimph setting herselfe so, as she might both see and touch the loued Shepherds, all the rest beholding this stranger with as much admiration, as shee did their Mistris, thinking no difference betweene them in beauty, saue that the new guests fairenesse seemed more masculine, as fitted with her estate, yet full of graue, modest, and seemely bashfulnesse. Thus they beheld each other, the Shepheards passionately beholding Leonia in memory of her loue, and the Nimph amorously gazing on her in her owne passions, till the musick a little awaked them, making their eares proue traytors to their hearts, for letting in any thing to them but loue. Loue is a subiect so delightfull, and alluring, as it not onely winns, but commands the very soule to the hearing, or writing of it, so wholly possessing, as it caused this amorous accident, and yet will not permit a resting here, but proceedes to Amphilanthus, and his company, who liued in all pleasure outwardly, yet fed sometimes with a bare hope, as others were, and this oft they felt, and after learned to know; they passing a­long a prety time without aduenture, it was their chance to meete the same proud Queene of Bulgaria, whom Rosindy had encountred, but vpon fairer termes, for she knew Lucenia, and she did (as she was an excellently wel fashi­oned woman) giue her respect answerable to her heart. Amphilanthus beheld her, and thought her as faire as she was, yet not a woman (at least as hee pro­tested) to worke wonders on him; yet shee doubted not, nor was afraid, to shew, that shee thought, he was her seruant, if shee pleased: but wrong hath been done to that famous and excellent Prince in that kind, many times by a noble free fashion hee had, which gaue ignorant or bold people liberty to speake of him: but to our purpose.

After they had discoursed some dayes together, much intreaty hauing pre­uaild, they obtained her company to the Enchantment, the noble Amphi­lanthus assuring her, that the King would not be offended, when he should be told, with her iourney, that shee had taken it vpon his request; they came downe still, till they were neere the Gulfe of Lepanto, where they meant to ship, and so to goe for the Rocke: but as they were one hot afternoone sit­ting in a shade, a louely sweet creature as those parts yeelded, apparelled as that Country fashion was, for the better sort to weare, passed by them.

Musalina would not let her goe so, but walked to her, who with much ciuilitie staid, and attended her commands. Shee demanded some questions of her, shee answered them with sweet and pleasing truth, at last good bree­ding made her know, that curtesie was not to be contemned by the greatest, wherefore she inuited her, and her company to rest them in her house, which she said was hard by; and though not worthy of them, yet better then that place.

She took her inuitation, and went for the rest, who straight came, and ac­companied her to her abiding, which was a faire house moated about, but strong and hansome, Gardens and Orchards within the moate delicate and pleasant, a Bote to goe ouer it into dainty Meades, Woods, and Groues, [Page 373] so pleasant this place was, and so kind her entertainement, as quickly they a­greed to her ciuill request, which she seeing the day far passed, made to them, for lying there that night, Musick they had of diuers kinds, and such mirth possessed them, that place hauing euer been blessed with that fortune, as few or none could be melancholy in it, except the Mistris, whom commanding all there, appointed that passion wholly to attend her, who not naturally, but accidentally was the saddest noble Lady in those parts. Dance they did, and al other things that orderly mirth would permit; yet still the Lady walked vp and downe, as if her soule were absent, and the body guided but by a Depu­ty, who did not so well gouerne. Musalina marked it, for the braue Queene marked little but her selfe, and the glory she tooke in that, she asked the cause; but with much fine and cunning respect, not so finely insinuating her selfe into her, but that she found her, yet meant not to be too curious, wherefore she answered her thus.

Madam, if the cause of my sadnes were worthy to be heard, or knowne by you so perfect a Lady, I would not bee the delayer of the happinesse to that, and my selfe in holding it from you; yet some part, as all, is too long to tire you with all, I will say I loued, and was beloued; I chose, and am forsa­ken; I loue, and I thinke shall dying say so, and do so: I liued a while nourish­ed with the bewitching foode of hope, but that hath now left me to the op­posite partie, Despaire; despaire, the spring of all loue-lost teares, and the Tombe of constant louers, whither I haste as fast, as my ill fortunes can carry me.

By this they were got a prety way from them, and hard by the Moate side where Musalina would lie downe, and heare more of her plaining: then said she; Madam you shall heare some more, by that iudge the rest, for my lippes shall not speake all, though truth of him; I dare not call him any thing, for his name makes me still loue him, and ready to forget all iniuries, and that loue will not let me giue him any curst title; but I went one day a iour­ney from his house, with a Cosin of his, he not being able to goe with me, his eyes then fild with water, mine as full, hearts being equally stored with loue; words we had few, his being these; Farewell my Deare (said hee) speaking this on my lippes, and carry my heart with thee in thy iourney. I will (said I) both keepe i [...], and cherish it, doe the like for mine that I leaue with you: his eyes [...]old me hee would; I thanked them with mine, and so parted, not fearing that, which now too strictly holdeth me, but since I neuer will trust man, that when he will can weepe; my soule did at the parting strangely mis­giue me, that some ill would follow, but I guessed not what, though I con­fesse a little while before, I had somewhat been touched with care, I wil not call it Iealousie, though 'twas as violent a paine, but how did he seek to cleare himselfe, and satisfie me? I came in once, when they two all alone were sit­ting on a bed, shee looked angerly, as hauing hindred her, and red with fury, he I thinke with shame, that so I found him, yet I went away, nor did I chal­lenge him for that, though hee did seeke to make mee thinke no hu [...]t was meant, or harme vnto our loues; this made mee more suspect, s [...]spition bred more griefe, the noblier he stroue to giue mee satisfaction, the more I was engaged to belieue, and did at last truly repenting, as if I had erred, and as clearely loued as at first, and as feruently.

[Page 374]Oh what eyes could with freedome looke on him? could any heart hould out against the siege of his alluring sweete beguiling loue? no 'twas impossible, all were created to be made his prey, and hee too pittifull, and so by pitty to receiue, and then to ruine, and such chance befell mee, come now remembrance helpe to molest me in thine owne distresse, and please this Lady with my misery, tell her the sweete, and amorous words hee gaue me, and wonne mee with, when hee did meete mee in that sad fine Groue, the third time my sad eyes were blessed with seeing him, with what finenesse, and yet subtiltie did he expresse sorrow for me, and my passions, yet comfort mee because they were for him? how did hee conquer me with loue, and his respect which I saw so curiously sought for my yeelding loue, yet still preserued mine honor; this made mee so willingly his prisoner, as I tooke care how to expresse it.

What witch-craft lay hidden in those smiles that so inchanted mee? and what power had those instruments sweete speach, more sweete and vn­refusing conuersation ouer my heart? tell me poore heart, did I take ioy in ought else but his loue? did I not dispise all other things campared with the high rate of his sight? thought I of any happinesse if distant from his presence? did I not thinke the Court a Iayle, whither wee were commit­ted, till his sight gaue me liberty, with blessednesse in his returne, whose absence if but for the space of one dayes hunting, did shut vp all de­light in that time from poore mee? did I apparell my selfe but with neglect, if he were not with mee? none but himselfe though a full Court I did behold, (for Madame I haue beene a Courtier,) and if he miss'd I saw none there, and thus much hath he sworne to mee; such was my loue, and is, and being such, far bitterer is the losse.

More the faire Musalina would haue heard, but shee was vnwilling to say more, and therefore shee vrged no more, then went they to the others who were pleasantly talking; Amphilanthus welcomed Musalina, taking her by the hand, and so they sate, the Lady beholding them, thus said she, haue I sate too, once blessed with such like kindnesse, now cast into a hellisher distresse, Musalina tooke occasion againe to heare her speake, shee granted it, and proceeded.

Madame said shee, you neither now haue, nor euer had such happines that mine equalld not, tis I confesse bouldly, but I thinke truely said; What did a Louer in passion euer vowe, and sweare, and after breake, that hee hath not done the like? none [...]uer more amorous, none more vnkind.

Haue you not seene him lately said Musalina? yes said shee, I see him of­ten, but his scorned hath so longe ruld, and I haue with such care, and paines sought to put his neglect, and disdaine (because it was a fault in him) from mee, as now I am in a kinde free, I confesse not altogether, but indifferent­ly, for I can with lesse violent griefe suffer his louing, and courting others be­fore my face then at first I could, but yet I had rather mee thinkes still haue those fauours; the beginning of my miserie had truely almost killd mee, and the more greeuous it was when I perceiued hee gloried in my paines, I haue bin about then to call him vngratefull, but my loue stayed my tongue, and yet but like an intermitting Pulce, beat doubly on my heart.

[Page 375]One night especially I was afflicted with it, when I was ( [...]ith his beloued Mistris, who was a greater Lady, though not a more true Louer then I was, (and himself) inuited to a supper; there all he could doe, was to expresse his affection to her, and his scorne to mee, I was in an Agony to see it, my bloud rise, and all my senses were sensible, but of disorder; I sweat with very vexa­tion, and for all this at our parting, this cruell man smild, and bid mee take heede, I caught no cold. It vexed me to heare that slighting, and before mine enemie, yet my hate turned more on her, whom I was content rather to ac­cuse in mine owne heart for bewitching him, then consent to truth, or confesse him vugratefull, for I had deserued, and that hee begins to pro­fesse.

What if hee should sue againe to you (said Musalina) would you not re­ceiue him? That were vnlikely surely Madam, said she, and I haue studdied so long to bee out of loue, and gaine liberty by forgetting, as I thinke it would bee as hard a thing for mee to loue, or rather trust (for indeede I dare scarce trust my selfe with louing him) as it was to hate, yet so neere I was once to it, that there was scarce the breadth of the finest spunne haire be­tweene me and that curst humour, but good, fond ignorant, kind disposition came cro [...]se the way, and so I came no further, then to leaue louing in shew, but neuer could attaine to hate, or to leaue truth in loue; this was, and is my state, take heed braue Lady, trust not too much; for belieue it, the kindest, lo­uingst, passionatest, worthiest, loueliest, valiantest, sweetest, and best man, will, and must change, not that he, it may bee, doth it purposely, but tis their naturall infirmitie, and cannot be helped. It was laid to our charge in times passed to bee false, and changing, but they who excell vs in all perfections, would not for their honours sake, let vs surpa [...]se them in any one thing, though that, and now are much more perfect, and excellent in that then wee, so there is nothing left vs, that they excell vs not in, although in our greatest fault.

Amphilanthus heard her, but answered not to it, thinking an ill matter better left then stirred. [...]ucenia was touched to the quick with this, yet dis­sembled it, and so they rose, resoluing to goe thence, the Lady bringing them through the walkes, and ouer the Mote, being the pleasanter way to their Horses and Chariots; but by the way, Musalina againe mooued her to dis­course, asking her, if it were possible for her to hold any correspondency with that Lady her seruant loued, and left her for. Yes truly Madam, said she, I haue brought my selfe to it; wee doe often meete now adayes together, and hunt together, and eate, and conuerse. Doth she know you loued him, said Musalina.

The whole Country did (said she) and therfore she could not be ignorant; shee knew it Madam, and knew a bracelet of haire shee saw once about mine arme (against my will) to be his, though would haue excused it, by saying, twas my husbands, whose was something of that colour, but as much diffe­rence betweene them, as betweene silke and woollen.

What satisfaction can she giue you for entertaining him? Embracing and cherishing his affection (answered the Lady) for which I can loue her. Did she neuer vrge any discourse concerning it?

Yes (said shee), and lately tooke occasion to speake, I am sure shee [Page 376] meant of that, but couer'd it with the third person, an ordinary course in such businesses, and this she said, that so much she could loue a woman friend as if she should be in loue with the same man that shee loued, and had no o­ther meanes to obtaine, but by her leauing him, she would to doe her a plea­sure, and ease her torments yeeld him to her, at least leaue him at liberty to take her: I found what she aym'd at, and told her it was a new and an ex­cellent manner of expressing friendship but I should thinke she seemd a very ignorant woman that would trust in that kind, and should shew more in­discretion then perfect friendship in trying it, thus she could not catch mee; by this they came to their Chariotts, and so they parted. Musalina asking her, if she had a husband, I had Madam, said shee, which was none of my least afflictions or molestations, then kissing her, the rest likewise tooke leaue and so went on their iourney, the Lady returning to her house, they dire­cting their Voyage towards the Gulfe, where they shipp'd, and sail'd to­wards the Island Rocke, the Ladies in their disguises. Musalina an Amazon, the Queene a Persian, but they were hindred a while by an other Ship, the manner was this.

One standing vpon the Hatches, sawe and knew Amphilanthus, who was discoursing with the two braue Ladies, and commending the Queene of Bulgaria for her choice of habit, becomming her so well, as it was a great pitty, he said, she was not sole Lady of those parts, that dressing so well be­fitting her; she tooke it like her owne conceit, and so as shee loud him bet­ter for commending her, then for his owne worth, pri [...]ing her selfe aboue any worldly treasure, which he as finely made sport withall; but this Gentle­man causd his ship to lye aboard of the other; kneeling down to the King he presented him with letters, then standing vp deliuered these words.

The earths glory, and Italys blessing, famous Amphilanthus, receiue these from your friends, and Allies in Germany, it hath pleased Tyme to giue pe­riod to the Emperours daies, since whose decease many haue made themselus competitors for the Crowne, but Ollorandus your worthy friend, hauing the greatest stroake in the election, making all the assembly remember your right hath chosen you, and truely Sir not only hee, but all, as soone as you were named gaue an equall consent, as if borne and made of one temper to serue you, hauing iustly chose you to it. Olorandus called me, who haue the honor to bee his kins-man, and in my youth his companion, but more ho­nourd mee in the Ambassage to bring this newes vnto you, with all inioyns you by the loue betweene you two, not to refuse this gift, and Crowne; he told me where I should finde you, and according to his directious I haue ordered my course, he feares the former made vow will carry you to the per­formance of that; if so, he assures you he will hold the Empire safe for you till you come, and therefore himselfe will not aduenture the inchantment, but if loue doe not ouer-rule, he could wish you to leaue all vaine attempts, and come to Prague where he will attend you, and so waite on you to your Coronation, if otherwise, you shall be secure, and hee your humble seruant, and loyall friend; my selfe Sir, am fortunate to bee commanded in this ser­uice to you, whom aboue all men, I most honour, your owne true vertue causd that respect in me.

Then did the King with much kindnesse vse the Prince of Transiluania, [Page 377] who he vnderstood this Embassador to be, by the letters he brought, hee ac­cepted the Crowne, but with a little nicenesse, professing himselfe not to bee capable of such a dignity; but in conclusion, his answers being but comple­ments, he tooke the title giuen him, and gloried in nothing more, then that he was so contentedly, and without one opposite voice chosen, onely he desired to be permitted to conclude his first vow, which finished, he would repaire into Germany, and to that end dispatched the Prince of Transiluania againe, telling him, that loue it was true did force him to this attempt, but what loue was it, except the desire he had to constant truth in holding vowes, and be­sides, to haue those famous Princes his friends, and Allies that were there in­closed, to accompany him in his iourney, for his greater honour, and the glo­rie to the Empire. This satisfied the Prince, and so with letters of credence, acceptation, and promise of his presence, hee returned a happy man; and so had those parts reason to esteeme the like happinesse, when the excellent Amphilanthus was to rule ouerthem, who proceeded in his enterprise, and landed on the Rocke, passing directly to the Theater, which opened to them, and as he was the man most louing, and best beloued, so was part of the Charme ended, al at his comming receiuing their best senses, like their owne cloaths about them, they ranne to welcome him, and begann to be ashamd of their follies for being in disguise: but shee, whose minde knew onely truth, rose likewise to salute him, and with such loyall loue as ioy of his sight sprang like spring time in her face, before pale and Winter-like in sorrow. He complementally saluted her, heeding none, but with ciuility vsed all, and her little kindlier, though more respectiuely then the rest; then againe they tooke their places being brought into a worse Charme then the first, be­ca [...]se now they perfectly saw and knew, misery to them that were subiects to it, and such did Pamphilia feele, who returning to the seate, she had before sate in, not only as she did alone, but viewed by all to be so. They infinitely wished for the finall end, and she for hers; directly before her sat Musalina, and the halfe fulfiller of the Aduenture, a sad spectacle, but she must and did indure it, though how, with such vnquietnesse, affliction, and multitudes of teares as what succeeded? losse of so much beauty, as made many haue cause (I meane slight louers) to see her lesse amiable, then lesse loue-worthy, and so she was left, and this is the truth of mans affection, yet did hee not i­magine, or rather would not consider this was caused by his leauing her, she poore Lady beholding nothing but affliction, and making her selfe the true subiect to it, yet did shee not, nor would accuse him, who was altogether so faulty as condemnd to be, though more then she deserued vnkind. Next to Amphilanthus sate the Queene of Bulgaria, and by her, her husband who arriued there iust at their landing, glad without expression to see her, her seruant likewise of Iamboli came thither the next day, and according to the manner sat downe on her other side betweene Amphilanthus and her selfe, she would not, or might not, it may be, shew too much kindnesse to her beloued in his presence, who though he were as louing a Husband as any, yet his loue was mixed with discreete care ouer her actions, and the more discre­tion she was bound to vse; she was not displeased to haue her seruant sit by her, and because he should haue no reason to remooue, shee still itcht neerer her husband, holding him by the hand, which he took to be done out of p [...]r­perfect [Page 378] or fond loue, while her head was prettily toss'd first to one side, then to an other, as if she were choosing a looking-glasse, betweene two, which to haue, wherein she might see her faire follies best, yet if euer prid were to be commended, it was there to be esteemed, for certainely that held her vertuous, and so by that meanes one of the greatest sinnes grew like a ver­tue, but no neerer being one, then the shadow of the purest Lilley in the water, is one; neither hauing colour or sweetenesse of the Lilley, only shape but blacke, and nothing of it selfe: no more good is in pride, but as it is some­times, and here, especially vsed, for a shadowed vertue. Ollorandus when Amphilanthus resolud to aduenture this place, did likewise thinke to doe so too, for such a friend he was, as he imployd himselfe wholly to be his imi­tator, & then did he best in his own opinion, when he did any thing, or said any thing, like Amphilanthus; but yet he kept an vnuiolable affection to his Melysinda, whō he went to fetch to the aduenture, but as he went, he met the newes of the Emperours death, which hastned him home faster if it could be, or if wings can be giuen of more speed then those of loue with which hee flew, yet hee had the fortune that trauelling Princes haue, for this chanced to him.

A Gentleman he met all in mourning, his face more expressing it then his cloathes, though in the exactest fashion for shape, and blacknes: armes he had none, but his owne armes foulded within each other, his hat downe in his eyes, his pace slow, his sighs many, his teares had spent themselues so liberally before, as now he had none left to shed, the spring dry, and stop'd with heauy sorrow, his speech when vrg'd by Ollorandus to speak, was as if frozen, and only melted, or thawed by good manners to giue answere, though but no deeper the thawe peirced then to make a little moistnes to freeze the harder on it, for so few was his words, and so long before gain'd, as it was almost like a hope of great content a louer promiseth himselfe when he thinkes, after a long absence he shall enioy his loues sight a whole day, when that day comes his fed imagination, in conceit is so soone made to sterue againe with the speedy passing of that time, as it is worse then if not had, and indeed scarce is it had, because the expectation so much excells the enioying: so did the King in this, for when he had got him to answere once, he prouoked him with such discourse, as he thought should procure a large scope of replye, but he only looked on him, sigh'd, & cry'd; I am the perfect scorne of fortune, what neede I, or can I say more? The Bohemian would not thus be satisfied, but stil vrged, the Gentleman stood still bare-headed in respect to him, but more words hee got not of him for a great space, at last fearing that too great inciuility would bee layed to his charge, hee thus spake. Sir said hee, what offence haue I giuen you, that you should seeke this reuenge on mee, to make mee wound my selfe with my owne mi­series relation? Alasse, consider when misfortune is befalne on, how doth euery one that loues him striue to keepe his discourse from his friends eares, if hearing bee painefull? what is the telling it when the soule euery word that is spoken feeles torment? insencible tasting the harme, knowing euery corner of it, as an Architecture doth in the framed building his imagination casteth: yet seeing their satisfaction can be ob­tained but by this, I will speake what I am loath any but my owne heart [Page 379] should know, out of two reasons being so deare to me; one, because my dea­rest deare was the Actor; the other, that the fulnesse of the griefe stor'd vp, might choake and kill my heart, and so send me to her; but your importunity hath preuaild, and I haue now set open the two gates of my silence to the ruine, the enemy speech will bring to my soule.

I was borne to honour and dignity; wealth, and what men most esteeme, I had plenty of; I was fauoured by the King, imploy'd by his Maiesty in of­fice and command; but what did I gouerne, when I was ouerrul'd by loue? A Lady I affected, she loued me, and spar'd not to giue me all testimonies of it; another sought me, I grew proud of it, and accepted her affection like­wise; the former saw it, wept to me, and tax'd me for it, I protested against it, and yet was guilty: shee at last (by my vnpardonable offence) being cer­taine of it, for I neglected her; this second I doted on, bewitch'd by her charmes, she onely had power ouer me, shee could onely make mee doe any thing: I left the Court almost for her, neuer thinking my selfe at rest, but when I was with her; businesses were tedious to me, sought before by mee, for I did loue imployment till I imployed my selfe so ill, as to bee her ser­uant [...] shee, as I thought, as fond of mee, I ioyed in that, and to satisfie her, left all the world vnsatisfied of me, and as many to scorne my weaknesse, as in former time admir'd and loued my readinesse; my poore true loue liu'd this while disdaind, forsaken, and almost contemn'd, more wretched crea­ture I, who was ordain'd to doe that ill to spoyle my selfe with all. In this time of my blindnesse another got my place in my masters brest growing so powerfull and dangerous, as I was forced to oppose him; for hee spared none to worke his owne ends on: I was vnfortunate in that likewise; for then was hee so mighty, and besides so ill, as hee forgetting all but himselfe brought many into the Kings displeasure. I repin'd at that, and seeing at last no remedy, tooke armes with many other, my friends, but too weake wee were, and I taken by composition in mine owne Castle, yeelding on condition all the rest should bee spard, that was granted, and I alone carried to the Prison the greatest Traytors are carried vnto, being called the Kings Prison, there I lay ten dayes till euery thing was ready for my arraignment, then was I brought forth, and after by the great men condemn'd. I could not say they did vniustly; for a subiect ought not vpon any termes to weare armes against his rightfull King: I was contented with the censure, setled my selfe to dye, and was grieued for nothing but that I should not kisse my loue before my death. The night before my appointed execution, when I was meditating on my end, my Keeper came vnto me, and with teares told me the compassion he had of my estate; I desired him to forbeare putting me into thoughts that might withdraw me frō those more necessary & befitting me at that time. He would not (as hauing a furder purpose) giue ouer, but pro­ceeded till at last I found by him he had some plot for my deliuery: then I was more troubled between two doubts, one of the truth of this thing, whe­ther it were for my good, or only a trap to take me in, & so to make my death more terrible & ignoble, when ioyed with feare & basestealing a life, or if he meant really, how it might be effected. These cōtrarieties put me into a great perplexity; yet I stil held conuenient discourse with him, who finding me vn­certaine in my answers, and suspitious of my selfe, brake out in these termes [...] [Page 380] I see, my Lord, my fortune to be so ill, as you (whom I most desire to serue) mistrust me; alas, if loue moou'd mee not, what plot should I haue to put my selfe into so eminent a danger? it is onely that hath wrought mee to this, and yet I am mistrusted by you. I sought to appease his passion, he then went on: I haue, my Lord said he, layd the way, and a youth of my acquaintance stayes below with the cords, shall (if you please) deliuer you from death and this place, it is more then time wee were about it, there­fore resolue what you will doe, and that speedily.

I, hearing this, and looking on a clocke was in my chamber, found it past midnight, straight led by a bold beliefe, gaue consent to goe vp and downe at all houres, went forth, telling the watch hee was sent for a Gowne for mee to weare the next day at my death; vnder colour of this, within a long robe hee brought the ropes, which hee fastened to the barres of the windowes, which were not so thicke placed, but one might easily get out; the reason was the heighth made the feare of getting thence nothing: At the bottome stood the youth hee spake of, and made the lower ends fast; out hee went, first to shew mee the way and try if the cordes were fast, then came vp againe and helpd mee forth, staying till I was safely on the ground, then vntyed the cordes, and the youth loosed them below, so hee drew them vp, and in a fire in my chamber burn'd them, shutting the win­dow, and himselfe comming downe the ordinary way againe without suspi­tion: to any Gate hee du [...]st not bring mee, for they were all so strongly guarded, as no safety would be there; but, knowing all the passages, brought mee to a little Garden then vpon the wall, and there was a Posterne doore low, and little, but bigge enough; but then another danger was how to goe downe on the outside, the Castle standing on a maine Rocke; but the dan­ger wee soone passed, for with some scrambling wee got downe holding by one another; the youth, though weake, yet hauing a strong heart to saue mee, help'd beyond expectation: this man, my keeper, had a brother dwelt hard by this place, thither he led vs, and telling his brother hee was sent of earnest busines concerning the State, got horses of him, and so wee posted, the youth riding behinde me, holding me with so much affection as I ima­gin'd it had beene his care for feare of slipping, but I iniur'd him in that, for his worthy selfe could neuer slip.

Wee rid thus, till wee arriu'd at a Castle of mine; but that not being of strength sufficient, wee left it, and our wearied horses, furnishing our selues better: the youth rid well, and I was carefull, though hee still besought mee to heede my safety, hee weary, as weake, his horse being little lesse, they fell, wherein hee was hurt; but at last hee sure wounded and tyred, I pittied him, and more, when I saw his teares, which were not for his ap­proching end, as after I saw, letting some from mee to accompany his: hee seeing them, my Lord, said hee, weepe not for mee, nor shed those deare teares for one who once might haue had a life giuen by one of them; but those dayes are passed, and now my ending as fast as may bee, the bruise and death this fall brings mee, not being yet so cruell to mee as the fall of your fauour was; nor vnwelcome, since chanced to mee in your succour, I am to tell now the cause of my seruice: Loue (my Lord) hath brought me to this, and all other miseries, your scorne neuer hauing had [Page 381] power sufficient to make mee leaue louing you which procur'd this action, censure me then a louer and not immodest, no disguise could euer disguise me, but still I lou'd you, nor put I any on but for your good, and so for­ced to alter my habits, what haue I taken but habits of the much worthier Sexe? the noblier to serue you, not out of any wantonnesse, which hea­uen can witnesse [...] for had I ecaped this harme and you once safe, you should not haue knowne mee but as a poore youth affectionate to your safe­ty, I would againe haue returned after the time of your imprisonment; I tooke this resolution, putting my selfe to waite on one of the guard, and neuer left prying vp and downe to finde how I might assist you, till happy fortune brought me to this man, whose affection I saw such towards you, as I ventur'd, and hee likewise to attempt what now I ioy to see perform'd; and more, that my end is brought by so louing an occasion: farewell my Lord, and I beseech you mourne not for mee, whom you thought so little worthy of your loue; couer any fault in this I haue committed, with the vaile of feruent affection; then shall I bee secure, and you noble. Weepe not (deare Lord) for mee, I must bee gone, and in going shall bee molested to see you sorrow for mee; bury mee, I beseech you, not heere, but in some of your owne commands, that as I am yours, my dust may bee also held in your ground; and then, lest you shall grieue for mee, I can now giue you leaue to forget mee; then did shee faint, for this was my first and truest Loue.

I got her with much paine againe to life; shee blam'd mee for it, yet told mee, such kindnesse had preserued vs both if timely giuen: then with ma­ny prayers for my safety, wishing all the blessing that heauen granted to any, to bee powred on me, shee dyed in mine armes, breathing her last into my breast; for I kiss'd her when her breath left her.

I buried her, as she desir'd, at a Castle of mine, whither we rid that night, and there remained till my peace was made with the King, which hee was willing to, and honour'd me so much, as I had satisfaction o [...] my enemy; but what was this to my losse, hauing lost the wonder of her Sexe for loyalty? Besides, my second Lady, for whom I had left the faire patterne of vertuous loue, did shew me my ill by requiting me according to my merit; but not from her, for of her I had deserued well, she neuer sent to me, neuer seem'd, as I heard by all, sorry for me, but superficially, quickly chose another, and like the worst of her Sexe, thought sorrow would hurt her complexion, and so she might liue vnlou'd, grew merry, and thought no more of me, though at the first she wept; but why? onely to shew how sweetly shee could looke in teares, not shedding more then became her, & were safe from hurting her; though euery one, because they were hers, had, if seene, wounded mee. When I came abroad againe with my pardon and the Kings fauour, I met her; shee, as not guilty, cheerefully and smilingly saluted mee: but I that could leaue the worthiest for her without a cause, could iustly bee offended; so as I spake not to her, nor since haue looked on her, truely hating her very sight, and in these habits haue I continued, in this place doe I liue this life, if a life you will call it; yonder is the Castle shee lies buried in, with whom I haue buried all content, and with whom I will also lye, the Court I haue left, and all company, ioying in nothing but my misery, and this I neuer rela­ted [Page 382] before, nor haue I spoken so many words since I first suffered this vn­happines, nor will any more: therefore Sir now I beseech you permit mee to bee silent, and to passe to my dying liuing. The King, who was a per­fect louer, could not but lament with him, and sorrow that so they should part; but necessity compell'd, and he granted his demaund: the sad man going in his wonted mauer, and the King holding his iourney, still think­ing and musing of this aduenture, till another put him out of it and brought him to a little more mirth: A dainty young wench came led betweene two hansome young men, one browne and louely, the other faire and beautifull, many Lads and Lasses attending them, some carrying flowers, others Gar­lands, some fruite, some wine, euery one hauing something to doe, and ex­treame busie in that businesse, because it was loue.

When they saw Ollorandus they ran to him and desired him to alight; for hee was by the agreement to giue iudgement and end to this aduenture: hee wondred why they had chosen him, they said it was to be finished by the next Knight they met, and that was himselfe; then they set a kinde of Chayre vp, which they carried with them, hauing ioynts, and with engines to bee placed any where, ouer his head they hung the flowers and gar­lands, except one that was held for him to whom the prize was giuen; the grownd they also strewed with flowers. Ollorandus sate still, admiring what they would do with him, smiling within himselfe to thinke what Am­philanthus would iudge of him, if hee should finde him thus attended and set vp so like a May-game Lord; but patiently he suffer'd them: When they had done, the Speaker appointed, which was hee that held the Garland, began thus.

Excellent Iudge may it please you to vnderstand, this businesse consists of diuers matters, yet all the matter is loue; a thing possessing all, a vaine pas­sion afflicting most; and yet this Gentleman M. Loue hath no abiding, but a meere run away when hee hath done mischiefe, and if followed, where is hee found but i [...] hearts? and there such straying harbours hee hath, as hee is fortified euen with strength against the masters of them. This youth who will neuer bee old, hath wounded these two youths with one arrow, for they loue this Lasse: her hee hath wounded; but it seemes louing wo­men better then men hath taken more paines with her, and bestowed two of her, for she loues them both; not being able to say whether she affecteth most: it is no strange thing for a woman to loue two or many; but the rare­nesse is that one of that nimble louing kinde, cannot take both and vse them after her own phantasie: to say women can loue often is no wrong to them; for who would not please themselues? and what greater pleasure then va­riety? Is it possible for one to bee contented to liue his whole life in one roome, to heare but one speake, to conuerse but with one, to feede but on one thought: if this bee hard, where is womens fault that de­lighteth her selfe with change of Louers? being but for that whereto wee were borne to seeke our owne happinesse, and surely in that are they most happy; for variety is their seruant, waiting on them so di­ligently, and so cherished by them, as they are the excellent Mi­strisses of that excelling pleasure: To proue this Sir, heere is a dain­ty example in a dainty subiect; rare in all parts, because rarest in it selfe, [Page 383] here is a woman loues so equally, as shee cannot chuse betweene these, if beauty want in one, louelinesse chalengeth her liking; if beauty abound in the one, sweetnes speakes for the other, she loues both, and so much as shee wishes (if it were not for extreame losse) they were but one, and then shee could satisfie her selfe, and that one; her's yet a greater wonder, these two Riuals are friends, not to say friends as not being enemies, but affectionate friends, and such as it is almost hard for either of them to tell whether hee loues her or his friend better, yet both are enamoured of her; This hath continued two yeeres: now it is agreed on that the matter shall be iudged by the f [...]rst Knight, you Sir are the man, and to whom you giue her she shall be contented with him, and leaue the other. Ollorandus made answere that the matter was nice, and a busines he no way desired to meddle in lest hee might offend, not being able to iudge to please all parties, but hee thought that such mutuall affections were better held s [...]ll as they were, lest diuision might diuide the perfect loue betweene those friends; for said hee, a wound giu [...]n in the arme, or body will heale, and grow together if the sides be kept close, but kept open, it will (though heale) yet be in sundry parts; So if shee be gi [...]en to one, and from the other, it will breede a diuision in loue, if not still to be as at first enioyed, They all then spake and desired iudgement, being resolute to stand to his censure, Then must I said Ollorandus require one thing more for my perfecter ability, you must each of you speake for your selues, and tell what you can claime to merit her, and what proofes you can alleadge of her affections to you, and she must likewise tell her opi­nion, they consented, and the fairer youth beganne thus. As I was one day after hunting somewhat hott, and weary, hauing laide my selfe vpon the grasse vnder a larger Oake, this beloued soule came tripping with such dain­tines and sweete carelesnes, as I was surprised with her finenes; she cast her eyes on me, but so, as if chance, not purpose of fauour had procured mee that grace, but howsoeuer, as dearely was her looke prized by me, and my eyes as gladly met hers, as in old time the Gentiles held, the Sunne did kisse the lippes of Osiris; she held her course, I rose, and followed her, shee tur­ned, and started a litle like a fearefull dainty Deere, and my deere she pro­ued, I tooke occasion to offer her my seruice seeing her alone least any rude­nes might be offered, she accepted it, and so I attended her home, she than­ked me, I tooke those thankes so kindly, as they bound mee I told her to waite on her aft [...]r to deserue the fauour, not then hauing merited so much. She disliked not of it, but welcommed me till she robb'd mee wholly of my, heart, and then was I forced in good nature to goe still to visit that which I had kept close, and vntouched till that time in my breast, cherished I thinke of purpose to make the perfecter, and purer sacrifice of it vnto her loue. Then grewe we much more familiar, till at last I found I was her friend, for she trusted me, and I was not curious to giue her meanes to let her see I had confidence in her; then would she ride, and sometimes as the seasons were, goe a hunting, and made me beleeue she loued that sport for me. I was apt enough to credit any thing that pleased me, and so I turned a very Nouice in loue, and a blab to my fortunes, for I could not he contented with my happinesse, being nothing me thought, if onely by my selfe enioyed, and that it were not likewise knowne to some friend of mine, who with mee might [Page 384] likewise reioyce. What were the stolen and sweet delights we had, if a third did not also heare of them, and the discourse make the memory as deere as the sweete obtaining? ioy for enioying at the instant is so full as wraps vp all sense in content, but absent a litle the consideration comes, and presents these blessings so perfectly before our eyes, as then is the enioying of what with blisse was before gained; to giue my selfe likewise this con­tentment I discouer'd all these passages to this my friend, hee at first smiled at my follies as he call'd them, being free from passion. I was tormented to see his dulnes, and could haue chid my selfe for bestowing so many passio­nate expressions, and pleasing discourses on him, at last he desired to see the Tree from whence these louing branches grew. I brought him into a groue, where I intreated him to lye close and not stirre vpon any occasion, hee did so, then came my Mistris, and my selfe alone together, and properly may I say alone, for we were but [...]ne, though like two staulkes, or flowers of one roote. We sate downe, we kissed, and he beheld vs so well contented, as he did wish himselfe the like, and I thinke the same fortune, which wish he after gained; when he saw me take her hand and play with it, Oh said he that I might but doe so while hee may haue her lippes to doe him a pleasure, I was as familiar with her as modestly I might, I intreated to see her legge, she refused not, he being iust before vs saw it too, then did his loue increase, while I ignorantly and foolishly stroue to make him see excellencies to robb my selfe of them, yet he very discreetly couered his passion a pretty while, still commending her, and so cunningly working into me, as I brought him like mine heire to see my possessions; she beholding him louely, and so win­ning, as he fail'd not to win her, she as crafty as a woman ought to be that will deceiue, made much of him for my sake, and as my friend did make shew of kindnes to him, I tooke it so, and this tyde me doubly to her. What I thought would please her I studied and obtained, she commended Songs, I am no Poet, but my friend is excellent, said I, then did I desire him to say some of his owne Verses, he did so, shee desired to heare more, hee still did please her so, and at last made some to her, telling me he made them as from me, and I most innocently gaue them to her, and still did make him say them, sounding sure farre sweeter in his mouth then any others. Her heart being changed, or changing, but craftely she grewe more fond of me, and so as I was me thought then too happy; strangely her loue grewe to him, and so violent, as he must either yeeld or be vnkind, an odde occasion offered to trye friendship, but loue aboue all must haue rule or wrong euer, he loued as much as shee, shee loued as much as I, we both loued her, shee loued vs both, yet long acquaintance, and conuersation hauing rooted affection twixt vs two, would not allow so foule a treason in a friend, wherefore he told me of it, and withall confessed how much he loued her, yet said hee I will leaue what I loue, and may obtaine, rather then my truth to you. I loued his faith so much, and prized his worth so farre beyond my owne particu­lar, as I did freely condescend to his enioying her if she would yeeld; alasse, she had done so in her heart long before, and now with gladnes did em­brace his loue, but still she held me on, and with as much delight accepted me as euer. We had both what we desired, and she was free to both, at last we spake but in the third person before her of such a woman, she discoursed [Page 385] as we did, & concluded as we did, that one woman might loue two men law­fully, and constantlier then one, and that it were much safer for a man to haue his friend his Riuall then to be alone. From this we came to particu­lars, and so we were agreed, and then most friendly did continue louing, but lately we desired to haue our loues each onely to himselfe, for a litle suspi­tion is fallen between vs that she doth not so equally carry her loue as here­tofore, yet we will not fall out, but haue put it to iudgement, both resolued to stand to the doome shalbe giuen vs, and the other to leaue her for euer to his friend if he can keepe her so, he that hath her giuen to him shall haue this Garland with her as the triumph gained, she cannot her selfe decide the bu­sinesse, her equall affection she sayes is the cause, but I beleeue she is still wil­ling to hold both, now Sir you see what my loue was, and the beginning, the middle, and almost the end, the other then with a pretty sweetnes beganne. Sir, said he, my friend and Riual hath truely related to you most part of our loues, he was the cause of my affection, and my loue-tye continues as firme to him as euer; 'tis true I fel in loue after him, and by his bringing me, but 'twas his fault, for he told me his blessing with such feeling as me thought he took paines to teach me to seek the like, and how nearer could I come to the like­n [...]s, then to the same, like might faile therefore because my friend should see no error in my choice, or carriage of my loue, but to appeare as cleare vnto his eies of iudgement as before when he made me his friend, I chose as he did lou'd as he did, and with her consent & his, enioyed as he did, the wonder of this businesse consisting in this, but herein is no strangenes as I coniecture, for we were so directly one in friendship, as we were but one, and therefore though she had vs both, she had but one, so excellent a woman louer she also is, as she can bring her eyes, and heart to looke on both as one, and one as both. I was against this I confesse in other times, but now thinke no such loue as when we may discourse of it, and in our discourse know how she be­haues her selfe, and so be able to discouer which she most affects, and so striue to gaine the others part: but she most louing, most discreet, iudicially carri­ed her hand euenly, when he kissed one, I had the other, shee fa [...]e betweene vs still, and euer gaue vs euen and indifferent graces, but now being cloyde I thinke with this blessing we must diuide, and she take one which she cannot doe, therefore Sir, you must decide the question, shee sayes she will take ei­ther with equall loue, we will with equall content take or misse. She then was to say something for her selfe, who thus did speake. My Lord said she, you heare by these two the story related of my loue. I cannot but confesse it is true, onely I beseech you not to thinke any lightnesse was more in these a [...]ections then in the indifference of my choice, I loued this faire man I con­fesse first, I had not then seene the other, but when I perceiued his louelines, beauty me thought was more ordinary, and therefore I prized him dearer, but when the faire youth came againe, brownnes appeared nothing so plea­sing, both together mee thought they were both fit to be beloued, and the rather both, because different complexions would hold one still to loue one of them; wh [...]n affection to sw [...]etnesse and delicatenesse possessed me I loo­ked on him, when loue to fairenes, and whitenes claymed place, I turned to the other, thus mee thinkes I loued equally, and so it was but one loue be­ing still to one end, content and to be contented w [...]th those had made them­selues [Page 386] one in all things, euen loue to me. It is most true, I am now brought to choose one, for my father will haue me marry, I cannot find in my heart to refuse either, or haue power to choose whether, I hope this freedome which hath continued with vs will not be a cause now to make mee lesse e­steemed, my loue is the same it was, and therefore Sir, which you will allot me to I must take.

The first then spake againe, doe not (great Iudge) I beseech you fauour me, although I first did tell my tale, and first did loue, to wrong my friend, hee more deserues her then my selfe, and him she chose, I did choose her, there­fore bestowe her Sir on him. No said the other, I lou'd her for your sake, and loue to you made my affection grow to her; therefore Sir, as hee first did loue, and chose for loues sake onely of her selfe, be not so cruell to be­stow her from him, he most, and best deserues her, let him haue her. This while she cast her eyes between them as they spake so amorously, as it seem'd she cryd within her selfe, sweet Iudge, adiudge mee both; hee sate a while still, at last, he brought forth this iudgement.

Both louing, both beloued, treason it were to part such blessednes, nor am I able to cut so euenly by a threed, as to goe iust in the middle way between these affections: to giue her to either, I can hardly doe it, since they beg for either; You faire indifferent creatures, are not it seemes to bee displea­sed, nor will I offend either, therefore this shall be my iudgement. Take the Garland, and you who hold it now, tye her scarfe ouer her eyes, then both shall come at once to you, and to which you giue the Garland hee shall bee your husband, blinde Loue made this equality, blinde fortune is onely fit to decide it. She tooke the Garland, when the other two both at once kneeld to the Iudge, and at once spake these words all one, and so iustly deliuer'd, as shewed their hearts one, beseeching him, that since the Garland did so well in her hand, she might keepe it still, and crowne her selfe as Lady of the oddest passion, they would as before passionatly louing, equally leaue her, and now faire Mayde said they, to auoid your trouble in choyce, or after choosing, we will both leaue you; seeke and take a third, and crowne him with a single loue if you can.

Ollorandus liked the oddnes of this best of all, she blush'd and faine would haue spoken, but they went away, and left her like all-changing women to glory in her owne folly, or to couer her selfe with her owne shame, yet shee [...]ooke a changers boldnesse on her. My Lord, said she, I humbly thanke you for your iudgement, and your noble care of me, I am no more troubled with their leauing, then I should haue ioyed in hauing them; onely I am sor­ry that you must be a witnesse, that the fault lyes on your sexe, when you come (if euer) againe to censure Louers, be more pittifull to vs, and this is all, I liu'd before I loued them, and shall (I trust) liue, and loue againe with­out them: So they parted, Ollorandus hauing had sport for his paines in sit­ting so long, and the standers by satisfied with vncertainty, and so all par­t [...]d: The King towards Prague, he met his Melysinda three daies iourney neerer, hauing knowledge of his comming, by the messenger that brought him the newes of the Emperours death.

Then they together went to that ancient braue City, thence to a place where all the Princes by a generall consent met, and chose Amphilanthus [Page 387] their Emperour, who by being King of the Romanes might claime it; not one voice was against him, but all like one cracke of Thunder sounded his name.

Then was the Prince of Transiluania dispatched to him, who met him as is before said, and returnd with the answere, whereupon Ollorandus was his Deputy till his arriuall, which was not long after: the fine Nimph, and de­licate Veralinda liued together this time, passing the heate of the day at the Fountaine, and in the shadow, the rest abroad, neuer weary of any time but night, which they accused of too great cruelty in holding thē asunder, which faire Veralinda often would haue helped in her wish, but her Father would not permit it. One day as shee was sitting alone, expecting her deare com­panion, the graue Shepherd, her Father, came vnto her, and looking steedily on her, wept; she was amazed, and sweetest soule weept too, to see his teares; he then embracing her, my dearer heart (said he) I must leaue thee, and this makes my teares.

Alas Sir (said shee) let mee neuer see that day, or heare those bitter words againe. It is most true, said he, I am commanded and I must obey, the God that gaue mee thee, appointeth this, grieue not for this, it will (I hope) bee for eternall ioy to you. I am warned in my sleepe to send you hence vnto an Island, where you shall be blessed with happiest successe, goe then and take this Cabinet with you, but open not the Boxe vntill the aduen­ture you shall see be ended, then open it, and remember me. She was amazd but he did comfort her. How shall I goe, said shee, alone vnguided? Will you cast me out? Haue I deserued so ill, thus to be throwne away? O Fa­ther, keepe me with you, or else let me stay but by you, that I may but see your face, and therein shall I be most blessed. Alas sweet, and deare Veralinda, I must not agree to thy demand, but yet beleeue me, you will not repent, a­lone you need not goe, you shall haue seruants who you will, besides, the Nimph will goe with you, she met me now, and I acquainted her, and shee is gone a litle hence, to send the Shepheard, her deare friend, to prouide hor­ses for you; now lament no more, nor grieue to see my teares which are to part with you, not that they can fortell least harme to you, but losse to me of your loued sight. Veralinda w [...]pt againe, other faire Shepherdesses came, but none of them sh [...] would so farre grace as to tell her fortune to, saue onely to Melantha the same Lasse the Shepheard lou'd. Shee straight resolu'd to leaue Archadia and all else, to goe with her, so this concluded, they staid in the Groue till fine Leonia, and the Shepheard came, with whom they went away, and straite to Corinth tooke their iourney, there they Shipp'd, and passd vnto the Rocke, where landing, she went to the Theater, and looking vp she read the words, Leonia reading in her eyes, at that instant the Gate o­pened, but with such Musicke as amazed them all, as wel those at the entring, as the troopes within, all they at that time falling into a sweet slumber with the delicacie of the charming Musicke. Leonia went in with her, and passed along viewing each one, and knowing most, pittying some, and grieuing for their Fates, not knowing what should come when Apollo appear'd, comman­ding Veralinda to touch them with a rod he threw her down; she did so when they all awaked, and held each one his louer by the hand, then stood they vp, and as amazed gazed on the Shepherdesse, and Nimph. Amphilanthus at [Page 388] his waking tooke Musalinas hand, but quickly let it goe againe. Pamphi­lia rose, and Leandrus from her feete, but touched her not, though gazed on her face, Musalina did the like on Amphilanthus. When this was done, and all the couples stood round as the roome was, suddenly the Chaires were va­nished, and a Pillar of Gold stood in their stead, on which hung a Booke, eue­ry one there stroue to take that down, but none could gaine it; Pamphilia and Vrania came, they both resolued to try, but the first place was giuen by their consents vnto Vrania, who tooke it downe, wherewith the inchantment part­ly ended as the Musique and charme, but the house remayning and the Pillar of Gold, as memory of the brauest inchantment that inclosed the number of the worthiest the world did euer know. The Booke Amphilanthus tooke and tryed to open, but though Vrania had got it, she must haue Veralindas help to open it, which being lent her she got, the house then vanished, & they found in the Booke the whole story of Vrania, and how that after shee was stollen by the Duke as before was confessed by himselfe, and then from him by rob­bers.

This wise man who had made this inchantment preserued her, tooke her from those robbers, left the purse and mantle with her to be the meanes for those that took her vp to cherish her, & then being Lord of this Island, framed this inchantment, whither he knew she should come and giue part of the conclusion to it, & so appeare fit to deserue his care, which she might thanke him for; the next story was of Veralinda, which was this. The King of Fri­gia had many children by his first wife, then married he againe, and by his second onely had one daughter, whose natiuity being cast, it was found shee should rule a great people, and weare a Crowne; this made doubt that she should gouerne ouer that Kingdome, that bred iealousie, & iealousie hate, so as her brothers when she suck'd, laid a plot to destroy her, & brib'd a seruant of theirs to kil the Infant. He vndertook it, but was preuented likewise by the same diuine power Vrania was protected by, for he that should haue mur­ther'd her, onely tooke her from her Nurse, whom he had enticed forth into a wood to walke, there he left her bound & muffl'd that she could not speake, and so fled with the Babe vnto the Sea shipping himselfe, and with the re­ward he had for the supposed act, he desyring to haue it before hand, that he neede not tarry after the execution, hee got into Morea, and so into Arcadia, warned in a dreame to doe so; for the Kings Shepheard hee in­quired, and to him gaue the childe, which hee (hauing no childe) willing­ly tooke, all things agreeing so well, as plainely shewed the diuine proui­dence ordained it. Hee bred her vp vntill that time that hee was also in his [...]leepe appointed to send her thence to the Island, the Lord of this Island a learned man knewe all this, and made the delicate aduenture for her discouery, and the tryall of loue. When this was discouered, all they that before enuied, and almost hated her, who appearing meane, had the power they wanted, came and saluted her; the Nimph knowing her to bee a Princesse likewise came, and with a pretty blush discouered him­selfe, shewing that hee was ashamed of his habite, and yet that habite became that blush. Amphilanthus was glad to heare that his brother hadde shewed his valour vpon so cruell a Beast, and in the defences of so excellent a creature, but could haue chid him els for disguising him­selfe, [Page 389] had not Loue, and as hee saw Destiny appointed it so; but Leonius in his mans habits, againe came with more feare to Veralinda then before, to whom he spake in this manner.

Fairest Princesse, I hope your estate will not make you forget the estate you liued in loue, I am the Knight you loued as a Knight, I am the man, who for feare you lou'd me not, to moue your loue made my selfe a woman, and the same man that loues if you cheerish, [...]lse dies if you forsake. I am (my Lord) said shee, the woman that loues you as much, or more, if possible, then I did, hauing so many more bonds to tye me vnto it; my life I owe you, I will pay it you, by spending it in being yours, and now I know my selfe to be a Princesse, the freelyer will I say this, being the fitter for you; then opened she the Cabinet wherein she found a writing in the Shepherds hand, made betweene him and the other who should haue kild her, therein had she conditioned, that he should bring her vp most carefully, call her Ve­ralinda, not to discouer this secret to her, but wh [...]n shee was to l [...]aue the place, not to suffer her to marry any but a Prince. Th [...]se conditions he kept, and so gaue her the Cabinet, the Nimph he knew made to confesse himselfe to him, out of care of her, and then he consented to the iourney, thus was she preserued and in her true loue had a faire dwelling.

Pamphilia was glad of her being her neighbour by Pamphilia, and glader her Cousen should haue such a fortune, for now they knew her to bee heire, for her brothers hauing enuy more abounding then good nature, fell out, first with their mother in law, then with one another, lastly with their Fa­ther, tooke armes against him, imprisoned him, then in two battailes one against another, some taking part with the Father, they were all kill'd, the old man outliuing them, and shame him, grieuing that he was their Father, though their faults were nothing a kinne to him, for he was vertuous.

The Lord of the Island, a graue old man, came to the royall company, to euery one he gaue his blessing at their parting, and to Pamphilia, he pro­mised to assist her when she should haue most need, so they parted, shee thin­king she had already neede enough of him, but most of anothers ayde. All returned to Corinth where triumphs were made for their comming, Am­philanthus presently after taking his iourney towards Italy, and so to Ger­many, accompanied with all the men Princes, the Ladies appointed to stay there with the King of Morea till their returne, when as all the louers should be made happy with their long desired loues in marriage, for the Parents and friends of all were agreed, onely Pamphilia was vnpromised, for she was her owne, but as she had vnfortunately giuen her selfe. They being all departed, the Queene of Naples, & her Cousen the Pamphilian Queene walked abroad, she sad, her noble friend comforting her, not being able on such a sudden to mistrust the cause of her griefe which she onely attributed to parting, and so wholly touch'd on that string she was loth to satisfie her, because her spirit disdained to say she was lost, but most because she could not say so, but the saying blemished his worth; this made her more carefull then any other re­spect. Much the excellent Queene admired at her sadnes, and vncertaine an­sweres, oft she was about to vrge her, but againe she let it passe, purposing by circumstance rather then plaine dealing to worke it out of her, or by some other to gaine the knowledge, which at last by the Queene of Bulgaria [Page 390] who but newly was come amongst them, and onely had hard of Pamphilia, but neuer seene her till the conclusion of the Charmes, speaking of many things came out with Amphilanthus his especiall respect to Musalina. This iudiciall Queene had enough then, and too much, hauing a wound, for shee loued Pamphilia, who, poore Lady went vp and downe like the shadow of her selfe; into saddest walkes which were there shee often went, and with her owne thoughts discoursed, What haue I done, said she, that makes me thus vnfortunate? Dearer then my selfe to me deale yet but thus kindly, or if it be too much for me, all kindnesse being bereft me, doe iustly, and ther­in like your selfe, and let me know my fault. Alas, is it I, by you once made blessed, was not, or am not fit to enioy it? if so, slake, but not depriue me (wretched me) quite of your fauour, and in so curst a sort as giues folkes leaue to say, I am abandoned, and shun'd. I haue beene more esteemed. Cruell remembrance will you also add to my misery: flye me, or if you stay, serue then to vexe me while I accuse onely you; then shee cast some Verses Sonnet-waies in her thoughts, which were these.

Most wretched indeed, cry'd she, and such an one am I; cruellest (yet worthy still for all your scorne) What haue I deserued to be thus tormen­ted, and forsaken? Tell me, and vse mee crueller if that may be, so you then make an ende, and againe receiue me into fauour: my soule vowes I am ignorant of any offence willingly committed: did my slight going to to the Sea offend you? Alas, I went but with others, and drawne against my will, my heart still remaining cleare: no, it was not that, but thither I was carried to be absent for wicked change to worke in that time in your heart, and so to ruine mee. Vrania then came to her when shee seemed to cease her complaints, but shee found her sorrowes, and stroue to ad­uise her. She still put it off, and would not (vnto her) confes, but dissembled; Vrania would many times giue occasion, as then she did, to discouer her melancholy. I would (said Pamphilia) we were gone from hence [Page 391] I hate this Corinth, and long to see Arcadia againe. Soone said Vrania, you will be there as I heare; but will your sadnesse end then? No, said shee, I should hate my selfe as ill as I doe this place, if I should doe so, change can­not nor must not aspire to worke such effect in mee. Change (said Vrania) deserues no honour; but discretion may make you discerne when you should bee constant, and when discreete, and thus you doe not change but continue, iudiciall as alwayes you haue beene. Were you so discreet, said Pamphilia? when time was, as I remember, you were forced to bee wash'd before you could manifest your iudgement in leauing: but (sweet Vrania) doe not you proue an enemy to mee, though mine owne eyes and heart haue turn'd to my destruction, bee still a noble friend, and make proofe of it by pittying, not by striuing to make mee more vnhappy, which I shall bee, if I let in that worthlesse humour change, which I can neuer doe till I can change my selfe, and haue new creation and another soule; for this is true and loyall.

Vrania did grant her request in her heart before shee asked it; for shee did, and had pittyed her euer since shee saw her misfortune grow vpon her, but feare lest it would too deepely root in her, made her (though against her owne minde) aduise, for that thing her excellent selfe euer hated, loue made this in her to striue to preferre a seruant she would not entertaine; but seue­rall bodies must haue seuerall cures, yet this is no cure; for Pamphilia will not change.

As they were thus discoursing, came Musa [...]ina and the selfe-louing Q [...]eene. Vrania was glad, because shee hoped company would assist her d [...]sire in her Cousens good; but shee was deceiu'd, for Pamphilia was in com­pany, and alone much one, shee could bee in greatest assemblies as priuate with her owne thoughts, as if in her Cabinet, and there haue as much dis­course with her imagination and cruell memory, as if in the presence. Mu­salina with great respect and shew of loue, did put her selfe often into her company; shee, after her sad fashion, did entertaine her, few wordes seru'd her turne, and yet because shee would not bee thought too couetous, shee gaue th [...]m store of sighes to counterpoise the want of speech. The Q [...]eene of Bulgaria one day would needs tell Musalina, Pamphilia of so much an admired Lady, was the dullest shee euer saw. Musalina desired her for her owne sake to speake that but to her, for (said she) the world will doubt much of that iudgement, that taxeth her for dulnesse; so she againe vrg'd discourse to the sad Lady, shee answer'd short but smartly enough: at last Musalina ask'd her what was become of the Rhodian Lady? return'd, said shee, with sorrow and sufficient shame, if there can bee sufficient for such a fault. Then did Musalina desire to know the story, which so daint [...]ly and sharply Pamyhi­lia related to her, as in it she made her see, she vnderstood loue in all fortunes perfectly; this discourse might haue made the Queene see her error, but shee neuer went so farre as to weigh the excellency of the discourse, but heeded only the tale fitter for her capacity. Then came Meriana, who but newly ac­quainted with Pamphilia, yet had giuen so full a loue to her, as if growing many yeares, and with her best louers pittied her: with her Pamphilia of­ten discours'd, and with a younger and halfe Sister of hers, who was a Lady of that sweetnesse and delicacie, as she was indeed the most delicatest of that [Page 392] time for admirable beauty, hauing a minde answerable for excellency to that body, which was without compare for exquisite perfection. They two were the onely Ladies (except Vrania) that she would keepe company with­all; for these were so discreet, and free from the vanities of other women, as were onely [...]it to accompany so much worth in sadnesse. Musalina would come in for one; but Pamphilia would seeke them if absent. One night after supper, Meriana and Pamphilia went from the company by themselues into the Garden, the Moone shin'd, and the euening was sweet and pleasing, both were (if pleasure could be to either one of them, troubled with absence, the other with losse) pleased with that time, and walke, Meriana intreated Pam­philia to fauour her so much as to say some verses to her; for, said shee, I heare deare Sister, you are excell [...]nt in Poetry: I haue written something, said Pamphilia; but so sad they are, as on [...]ly fit me to heare, and keepe: Not so deare Pamphilia, said she; for, beleeue it your Sister hath no ioyfull heart, what face soeuer I show, therefore saddest verses will please me best: you shall haue such said shee, but I seldome make any but Sonnets, and they are not so sweet in rehearsing as others that come more roundly off; but if you will heare some, I that can denye you nothing, will say one to you which I made not long since, and so is the freshest in my minde.

Meriana lik'd them extreamly well commending them aboue measure, and earnestly desiring the Copy, the other promised her it and many more; so they walkd on a while, when the delicate Ladyes Pers [...]lina and Philistella came vnto them, and telling them it grew late, they went in for that night, the two Sisters together, and Pamphilia with her Sister to her lodging [...] where likewise they parted, Philistella to rest, but the distempered Pamphilia to her nightly complaints, to teares, sobbes and groanes, and this was her quiet: Seldome would these braue Ladies let her bee alone in the day time, and Veralinda would bee much with her, all indeed seeking her contentment, but she must not haue it; the Queene of Naples as earnestly as any, or aboue any wishing it. Dancings and all Court sports were daily [Page 393] in action among them, while she sate with much adoe beholding them, but her selfe none of the number, shee that before was excelling in her apparrell more delicate then any, and none comming neere her for daintinesse in that kinde, now wore only black, and in wearing that as carelesse, as before ex­treame curious, her hayre that was before, but with greatest care dressed, shee onely kept cleane, and neglectiuely wore it, no iewels came about her; so as she was a mourner in stead of the most sumptuous habits shee was won [...] to honour the Court withall: with her trusty seruant the Duke of Perga­m [...]s she did only conuerse, for the men kinde, and would sometimes let him s [...]e her weepe, who did heartily pitty her and best might; for hee had seene her bless'd, and knowne the time shee was as much happy as now distressed. When she did sigh and grieue, he would also mourne; neuer (would he say) could I haue imagined to [...]ee this change, had beauty wonne him, worth in­uited him, beyond either in you, more tollerable had this beene; but pray th [...]e torment me not, cryed she, with this; she is (I confesse) as worthy as any, and deserues as much as woman can doe to be belou'd, and so much, as were I a man, I should loue her: no fault is in the choyce, but in his vnkind­nes to me, vnkindnes, which is the only murderer of my blisse; had he done a [...]y thing but so vnkindly leaue me, I had been satisfied; had he by degrees giuen me my death, more easily I had gain'd it; or, had he plainly told me his determination to loue no longer, it had more iustly come; but suddenly and vndeseruedly to cast me off; in stead of loue, to giue me frownes; for smiles, scornes; for respect, contempt; and all vnlook'd for, or, vnmistrusted; it wounds my very [...]oule. I innocently like my loue went towards him, smil'd with the same true ioy I alwayes felt in his sight; hee held his countenance graue, and saluted me like a Queene, but not as a friend or louer: this was strange, as I at first thought, it strooke me to the heart, yet would I not see it, but spake as I was vsed, telling him I hoped that poore Pamphilia should be honour'd with his presence once againe. He soberly, I am loth to say, curstly, r [...]plyed, it was too late, my [...]oule shook with those words, and too soone did they shew my misery. Who did, or could euer thinke to see him thus cruell [...] what did he seeme to delight in more then me, or in comparison of me? did he take comfort in any thing else? this is the crueller to me now he is chan­ged, & like giuen to the heart, strikes sure for curing; yet is this, though most true, vanity in me to remember I haue done. Thus shee would complaine, but only to him who knew the continuance of her loue, and had seene her once to be couerd; but like flames, the more pressed to rise the higher, and now blowne elsewhere by a wauering winde. The Ladies had euery day let­ters from the trauelling Court, Pamphilia had some from her brothers and Cousen Leonius, but els shee heard no newes. Amphilanthus had forgot to write; but she at last gain'd one letter from him, by one from her which was respectiue, and yet sad; his answer was short, but complementall; this, said she, was not wont to be his stile, but I must be content: nothing did she see or heare, but still of his glory and his loue. This was once, said shee, belong­ing vnto me [...] but I was not worthy of them, sure else he had not alter'd. Me­riana likewise to make her discourse, & passe away the time, would often tell her stori [...]s she had knowne of his affection. Alas, would she say, would some good body would tell her he was once, and but lately as kindly mine; for it [Page 394] grieues me more to heare her speak of it (since each word wounds my soule) then if all should only talke of it, because I know she loues me, & vnwilling­ly will hurt me: she is deceiu'd and betrai'd in this course, she would not be a meanes to cut my life-strings with this cruelty; some noble body tell her how hee lou'd me, how I still loue him, and then she will no more molest me, nor abase our loues. Sweet Meriana, those dayes now are pass'd of my best delights, be not you an increaser of my woe, but curst remembrance, for no new act of his in this change presents it selfe, but giues a deaths blow to our ancient loues. I could almost be brought to tell it her my selfe, and would, were it not to discouer his forgetfulnes and cruelty; but rather then my lips shall giue the least way to discouer any fault in him, I wil conceale all though they breake my heart; and if I only could be saued by accusing him, I sooner would be secret and so dye: no, my loue will not let me vse thee ill; then be it as it is, Ile liue forsaken and forlorne, yet silently I will indure this wrong, nor once blame him to any others eare, for deare (alas) he is to me, deare to my eyes, deare to my thoughts, and dearest to my heart; since he will rauish that poore part of all the ioy and sweet content it euer had, conuerting it to bitter lasting paine. Cruelly she thus remain'd perplex'd, and cloathd in the woful [...]'st robe of griefe: what a miserable spectacle was this, to see her, once the comfort of the Court, the starre that guided all the sweet delights, now the poore testimony of another creature, griefe hauing so decayed her, as she seem'd scarce so like her selfe as an ill picture to the life, her chamber & her thoughts were only bound to her, or rather she to them, and thus did she remaine the sad example of forsaken loue. The other Ladies louing in mirth and happinesse, wanton with it like Kids in the Sunne, for blessing shin'd on them, and that, this afflicted Lady did (she said) once know. The Emperour and all his Kings and Princes held their way for Italy; at last ariuing at Rome, where the Pope sent the whole Clergy, and Nobility to meete him without the Towne, and with great pompe and ioy conducted him to the chiefe Church to giue thanks, & then vnto the Castle. Triumphs began that night, and the next day continued, and many dayes, to expresse the content of the Emperours arriuall; but by his command, all dangerous sports of the field were forbidden, because he would haue no bloud mixed with his ente­ring. Iust they did, but their speares had burs at the points for feare of pier­cing: after Supper they had Barriers, and all imitation of that braue warre they had lately brauely beene in, and the Concluders of it.

To Naples he went to see his owne Country and People, where hee was affectionately and sumptuously entertain'd, surpassing all other places in magnificence, as in affection to their owne Prince: thence hee went to most parts of Italy that were in his way, or not much out of it, till he came to the neerest part of Germany, and so passd without any aduenture, carying the keyes as one may say, of all those places to open his passage which way hee pleas'd, neuer so pleasant a iourney, all hearts contented, leauing discontent as an vnprofitable thing at home; Buda, Prague, Vienna, all places he saw that were of worth, & traueld ouer the most part of Germany to see the strengths, & sometime for pleasure visited others. At Franckford he was crown'd with the greatest applause & content that euer Emperor was, & with the best rea­son, for he was the most worthy, and famous that euer reign'd o [...]er them; but [Page 395] to all this ioy, a little sorrow, would needs come in, for Leandrus after the Coronation, whether with heate, or ouer-exercising himselfe at these tri­umphs, striuing to excell all in shew of loue, fell sicke of a Plurisie, a disease little known then, which not being seene time enough, or then taken, he died thereof, before his death writing a letter to Pamphilia, and inclosing an infi­nite rich Ring within it, which he besought her, although he belieued, shee cared not for it; yet to keepe in memory of him, who most affectionately and loyally loued her; so as though her loue should not suffer in his death, but as he loued her, yet she might, when she looked on that, say, [...]he Master of this loued me. These he gaue in charge to Leonius to send her, which hee did, comming to ger one morning, after she had endured a sad and vnquiet night; for she hauing got away from the company, shut her doore, pretending to sleepe; but poore Lady little rest did shee enioy, carrying the enemy within her selfe, that held her eyes vnclosed: her heart oppressed, and be friended her in nothing, except furnishing her with teares, and new cause still to shed them. O Pamphilia (cride she) was thy creation for thy ruine? was thy birth giuen thee, to haue a life wholly in affliction? were all contrarieties to plea­sure ioyned together for thee to possesse, and vertues giuen thee to be vn­done by? else why was this rare excellent qualitie of constancy alotted thee? was iudgement giuen me, to make the worthiest choice, wholly to discerne; I chose well, but to bee rewarded with that leane benefit, and losse to bee my gaine. Did I reiect the firme, and spotles loue of that excellent Prince Steri­amus, the humble suites of all the greatest subiects, and neighbour Princes, slighted the earnestnesse of the noble Prince Leandrus, refused all, and made my selfe a Vassell in affection to him, that weighes neither mee, nor these ex­pressions of loue? I haue done all this, and I yet haue not done enough; for, O how worthy is he? though vnkind to mee, you might yet most cruell man haue shewed more gratefulnesse, and I had been contented, no colour you haue to excuse that with all, for you knew my loue, you seemed to cherish it, all eyes saw it too, for my face shewed it, I stroue for nothing more then mean [...]s to declare it, mine eyes did looke but for meanes, to shew how they and I were won by you, my lipps haue parted from themselues to let my tongue make true confession of that you then seemd with expressefull ioy, and content to entertaine. Where is that loue now gone? where is that content you embraced, departed, and with that instant forgotten? the Hea­uens will yet for me witnes my vnchanged heart, and vnstained affection: the aire hath been, and is so fild with my complaints and protestations, as I won­der it doth not like Ordinance rattle in your eares: the Sunne hath blushed for you, the Moone been pale, and wan, nay hid her face from my teares which I haue shed for your inconstancy. All things heauenly and earthly pi­tie me, except your selfe, from whom onely good by pitie may arise. Why did I open my heart alone to your loue, shutting it to all other motions to be thus carelessely throwne off? but I am well enough requited, since had I for­tunatly held these passions in me, the fiercenes of them might by this haue rid me of these during torments, & haue left this poore body a loyall sacrifice to loue, & the loue of the most vngrateful. Vngrateful, why do I cal him so? par­dō me dearest, though despising deere, I wrong you more in this title, which is the worst that can be giuen to mā, then you haue iniur'd me though with vn­merrited [Page 396] deceit; it was a certaine and too great confidence, ioyned with assu­rance, of what I most desired, that betrayed mee, and my ioyes with it, else I might sooner haue seene, if not maskt with innocent belief, and abusd with trust, or am I punished for aspiring to the ioy, soules on earth can be [...]t, and chiefliest couet, as blest with inioying, in hauing your fixed loue. Oh confi­dence, I feare tis you that I must curse, you are the honest, though vnfortunat chanced-ill that haue vntied my hope. Was it good nature made him so re­fraine my sight and presence, nay, vnlesse by force my words, and that because you cannot loue still, nor wil say so in charitie, you will auoide all, if so be yet more mercifull, and multiply your pitie with this free increase, kil me at once for all, torture me not with sorrowes, I will truly and religiously confesse, I am not worthy of you; but it is not my fault, I wish I were so fit, as you might euer loue, and such an one as all the world might thinke fit for you, then I know you would be iust: nor wish I this for any benefit, but for your loue; for else in the comparison of other gaine vnto my selfe, or any other then your loued selfe, I rather would wish to be a Black-moore, or any thing more dreadfull, then allure affection to me, if not from you; thus would I be to me­rit your loued fauour, the other to shew my selfe purer, then either purest White or Black: but faith will not preuaile, I am forsaken and despised, why dye I not? it is not fit, no, tis not fit, I still must liue, and feele more cause of woe, or better to say, to see my cause of woe.

Cruell forsaker, looke but once on mee, or rather on my loue, there you shall find if vnremoueable affection, and zealous truth can seeme deserts, I will, and doe deserue you in them better then any, and more then any, if not not, my selfe againe shall doe; my c [...]aselesse plaints may some way claime re­ward, my nights spent wholly in salt floods of teares, eyes turned to swelling Riuers, may lament that they and I should thus regardlesse passe: some o­ther motiues, which your selfe best knowes, might tie you in a bond more kind and gratefull: but these I vrge not, be your owne best selfe, and as once you were, then will you still be free from cruelty, if not accused by Iustice selfe, and then too large a punishment will second the offence. Offence, alas I cannot call it one, for I am yours, and may not you dispose of yours, as best doth like your selfe? Yet is there meanes to helpe, if you please to assist, if not condemned, I will remaine, till I may haue my end, which most I wish, and speedily I trust to gaine, then if your once most vallued, vertuous grateful­nesse be sent, twill be too late, only this good I may receiue, or my cold ashes for mee, that when my death shall come vnto your eares, your matchlesse heart may be content to let a sad thought hold you for a while, and if so, too too much for mee, who still do wish your blessednesse.

In this manner vnluckie Princesse, shee passed that night, till day ap­peared; Ay mee sad night, said shee, haue you now left mee too? shall light afresh perplex mee? my waylings [...]itter were to bide in you, afflictions soun­ded best in you, darke, blacke and terrible, as you were; is my state, vn­comfortable, and affrighred howers, suted better with my woes, my for­tune like your face, my hopes blacker then your saddest Mantle, whose dul­nesse changeth them into despaire, yet liked I you farre better, then this flattering approaching day: you truely shewed my selfe vnto my selfe, you were mine eyes to make mee see my selfe, and how farre distant I [Page 397] remaind from comfort in my want. Then turned she in her bed, and put her sad afflicted face into the pillow to hide day from her, which she needed not, her eyes labouring so fast to deliuer themselues of her teares, as their shew­ers were sufficient clouds, to dim all sight with them.

As she thus lay, her Maide that waited next vnto her, came in, but not da­ring (though so bold as to come into the chamber, being more then without extraordinary businesse she durst doe) to speake to her, a little opened the curtaine, and laid a letter by her, shee started at it, and asked from whom it came: from the Prince Leonius, said she. With that she instantly went out a­gaine. Pamphilia opened it, and finding another within, her heart rise a lit­tle in deluding hope; but by the little day that was (her bed standing to the window) she saw quickly what it was. And is it come to this (said she) most true Leandrus? I could (methinks) for thy sake blame my selfe, for being cru­ell to thee; yet maist thou rather thanke me, who would not dissemble with thee, not hauing any loue for thee, that I would not deceiue thee. This token of thy earnest faith and loue Ile keep for thee, and weare it for thee, nor euer part with it, vntill I die, and then bequeath it to that Person I shall most affect, and make my choicest friend, these teares I shed for thee, and pay them as the off [...]rings to thy death. O loue, O crueltie; see how you gouerne mee.

Then came the King and Queene, and all the braue Ladies, some to com­fort, some to aduise, some and many to gaze; most verily belieuing, her sad­nesse before had been for absence, now expressed for his death, but that death-sorrowing-cause was before happened, that molested her, yet she took this vpon her, though in respect of his faith to her, shee was sorry to set a co­lour of deceit vpon any thing that concerned him, but this businesse neuer concerned her self, and yet her noble gratefulnesse chid her for it. She wept, they comforted, they counselled, shee lay silent, and grieued beyond their helpe; her parents most louingly and kindly aduised, she shewed both humi­litie in the suffering, and humble thankefulnesse for their cares; yet did mo­destly, and respectiuely let them see, twas lonelines she desired, which they granted her.

No sooner were they out of the doore, but they were called againe by a shrike her woman gaue, for she with violence of passion held in before them, hauing no vent, would burst, ouercame her: they stroue to recouer her; Fa­ther, Mother, Friend, Sisters, Vrania, al did their best, at last they brought her out of her swound, when she sighed, groaned, and cri'd, O cruell; then againe fainted, and thus did shee thrice; but at last comming to her selfe, shee was saying more; but her senses comming apace to her, she found it vnfit, and too many Counsellors by; wherefore she againe desired to be alone, and that was all she required of them, which for her satisfaction was allowed her, and being alone she thus began, or rather continued her complaints which could haue no new beginning neuer hauing end.

What haue I done but sorrow? nay, what shall I euer else doe? salues I can haue none to ease me, nor so much as giue me shew of it. O Vrania, how maist thou in thy heart chide the murderer of thy affectionate, but miserable Co­sin? Parselius how wilt thou deny acquaintance, and friendship with so waue­ring a creature? did not he say, and write he loued me? did not his still win­ning [Page 398] eyes assure me, and his sweete charming speech confirme me in this be­leife? I am not then deceiued; deceiued, O yes, but not in iudgment, but by faulshood. O faulshood, what pitty is it that thou shouldest inuest thy selfe in so sweete, and delicate attyre? once I remember I told him of his change when he lelft Antissia, he denyed it not, but excused it with hauing chosen better, and so to chuse was no fault, but it seemes the best is not found, vn­happy I, must behold these dayes, and be left, who most vnchangeably loue him. Then came Vrania againe vnto her, whose hand Pamphilia tooke, and wringing it, wept, and sighed, hauing scarce breath left her to breath her sighs with; Vrania seeing her passion, and the assurance of her end if thus she continued, whom as her selfe she loued, like such a friend, and a discreet, Counsellor ioyned in commission with her friendship, she thus spake.

My deerest Cousen said shee, let neither my presence (hauing put my selfe contrary to your seeming desires of lonelynes into your company) nor my speech wholy proceeding from affection be displeasing to you: Stoppe these teares which else will find no stay but in your end, giue not occasi­on for loue to see so much his victory, and to tryumph ouer your braue, and matchlesse spirit, or for Man to glory, that our weaknes meeting their fauls­hood can submit so low as to their tyranny.

Where is that iudgment, and discreet gouern'd spirit, for which this and all other places that haue beene happy with the knowledge of your name, hath made you famous? will you now fall vnder the low groanes of the meanest esteemed passion? Where is that resolution, which full of braue knowledge, despised the greatest Princes when they wore loues liuery; must this sinke, while his tossing follies swimme? shall your excellent vertues bee drowned in the Sea of weaknesse? call your powers together, you that haue been admired for a Masculine spirit, will you descend below the poorest Femenine in loue? If he be dead you loued, loue his memory discreetly: how would he grieue, if he could into that ioyfull place where he is, see you torment your selfe; nay, sorrow infinitely to see such inability in her, whom he had chosen to rule himselfe and his? if your people knew this, how can they hope of your gouernment, that can no better gouerne one poore passion? how can you command others, that cannot master your selfe; or make laws, that cannot counsel, or soueraignise ouer a poore thought? yet it may be you are not in some kind faulty altogether in this, since it may bee a liuing loue perplexeth you, if so, it is worse, for will you lie here wasting your dayes and hopeful time in this tormenting fashion, keeping that secret, which told, it may be would helpe you? let passion since possessing you, breathe it selfe forth; and though you will not demand helpe; yet if the blessing of your affection were knowne to him, who it may be, liues ignorant of the hap­pinesse, all content without question would be offered you: speak then, and as to your selfe if you will not trust mee, and I will but by chance ouer-heare you, I am sure you cannot affect impossibilities. If hee be false, will you vex your selfe, when you may rather bee glad you discouer it before too far mis­fortune assayled you, as longer ingagement would produce? if cruell, were it not better he matched else-where, then that you had fallen into that vnhap­pinesse? if vnconstant (which is a thing familiar with men) take a good heart, and hate that humour by your owne worthy constancy, and seeke to preserue [Page 399] your excellent beauty, and let not so vncertaine a qualitie hurt you: beautie is besides a vertue counted among men of that excellent worth, as it wil draw their hearts as Adamants doe Iron: yet in this the comparison is not so pro­per, their hearts too tender to resist an easier inuitement, but I say beauty will sooner compasse ones desires in loue, then any other vertue, since that is the attractiue power, though worth is often made the glosse of their change, which they are in many places forced to take such paines to find, & found is scarce enough to be called so, not being more then iust will serue turne to be termed worth, not worth the trauell of seeking, yet if some, better then no shadow for their fault. Preserue your health, then that must continue your beauty, let not the world blame you with iust cause, you haue grieued enough for men euerlastingly to curse themselues, that one of their kind should giue occasion of sorrow to the most deseruing woman; all is yet well, you may with care, recouer what is something touched, and in time see his repen­tance which you may pity, or bee more wise, and respect in stead of louing him, who how worthy in all else, deserues not one of these teares, if false to you, let him goe and reioyce, you see his imperfections before you were ty­ed to them, yet bee sure you mistake him not, or vnmeritingly condemne him, for then the falshood will be laid to your charge, and his clearenes will make you more blame worthy. This I aduise as my selfe would be aduised if in such extremity, and this I say to you my dearest Cosin, and would say, though I knew it were mine owne brother had caused this mischiefe. Your brother (said Pamphilia) if faulty, might yet challenge more care from you, and testimonie of loue, who ought as a sister rather to hide, or couer his im­perfections.

So I would to any, but to you (said Vrania) who suffer I perceiue so extreamely for him. Pardon me, said she, I accuse him not, farre is it from my heart to blame him, which causelesly I should doe. You therefore con­clude too briefly on my words, but for me my onely friend and dearest Co­sin, this world hath no helpe left for mee in store, but a speedy end, which all that loue me, with me should soone wish it to me; yet I must say some thing in loues defence, whom you so much condemne that I haue read in all sto­ries, and at all times, that the wisest, brauest, and most excellent men haue been louers, and are subiect to this passion. I grant you that (said Vrania) but haue you not withall found by iust obseruation, that it was a blemish to their other excelling vertues? Why sweet Vrania (said she) what hath loue done to you, to make you thus bitter against him? do you not happily enioy what you desire? are you ambitious to any thing within his authority, which hee brings not to your wishes end, yet you reuile and despise him, who but plaid with you in hurts, and cloyes you with his fauours, while I tormented with his fury, proue not vngrateful. I am not vngrateful, said Vrania, but fortunate, I am not his slaue. I loue Loue, as he should be loued, & so deare Lady do you, and then you will plainly see, he is not such a Deity, as your Idolatry makes him, but a good child well vse flattred, an insolent thing comming ouer our harts, as children ouer the poore birds they catch before they can flie, think­ing they master them, when indeede it is their want of wings makes their bondage; and so deare Cosin it is our want of courage and iudgement makes vs his slaues: take heart to your noble, and knowing selfe, and let him bee [Page 400] as he is now a proud, then puling Babe. Alasse my friend said she, how sorry am I your excellēt counsell is bestowed on one so little deseruing it, as not be­ing able to right it by following it, which I am not able to doe, but some answere I must make to you, I am so wholy his as it is past mistaking, the wound being giuen mee deepely by his vnkindnes which martyrs mee, not that I am forsaken doe I lament, but my true loyall forlorne heart within me, bewailes the misfortune it vndergoes, by being displaced from that most loued, being which was in his breast, once cheri [...]ht, or flattered there; now to returne to this miserable prison my body, which is nothing but dispaire.

Thus you see it is truth, and such truth as only shall haue end by my miserable dayes conclusion. To leaue him for being false, would shew my loue was not for his sake, but mine owne, that because he loued me, I there­fore loued him, but when hee leaues I can doe so to. O no deere Cousen I loued him for himselfe, and would haue loued him had hee not loued mee, and will loue though he dispise me; this is true loue, and if not this the con­trary, should I reioyce for misse of any ill might from trusting, or being true to his amisse, in such bond had my blessing beene, and my cu [...]se the fayling of them, or had they hapned [...] Pamphilia must be of a new composition before she can let such thoughts fall into her constant breast, which is a Sanctuary of zealous affection, and so well hath loue instructed me, as I can neuer leaue my master nor his precepts, but still maintaine a vertuous constancy. Tis pit­tie said Vrania, that euer that fruitlesse thing Constancy was taught you as a vertue, since for vertues sake you will loue it, as hauing true possession of your soule, but vnderstand, this vertue hath limits to hold it in, being a vertue, but thus that it is a vice in them that breake it, but those with whom it is broken, are by the breach free to leaue or choose againe where more staidnes may be found; besides tis a dangerous thing to hold that opinion, which in time will proue flat heresie. Rise now deere Cousine, and if not to receiue, yet to giue comfort to the King and Queene who are afflicted exces­siuely with your sorrow; dissemble not with me, for you may see by my dis­course I know the roote of your distemper, yet this satisfaction I will giue your mind, that so secret I will be in my knowledge, as I will not speake of it to your selfe if not to serue you with all, yet I will euer accuse, and blame vnworthy inconstancy. To fulfill your desire, and obay your counsell asmuch as I can, I will rise, answered Pamphilia, but only to content my Parents, and please you, else little ioy or pleasure can I take in this world, but when you haue me with you, you must permit me to complaine vnto my selfe, I will neuer trouble any eares but those of mine owne soule with my sorrowes, o­therwise should I deale vnkindly with mine owne heart, come abroad and doe what you will said Vrania, nor will I hinder, or seeke to alter you from griefe so it be moderated with iudgment, expressing in some sorrowing your matchles goodnes, and noble disposition. Thus did the diuine Vrania againe by her excellent wit conquer, hauing brought Perissus from a desolate and sad life, to a fortunate, and now Pamphilia to let the Court bee happy with seeing her though in sadnes, yet a ioy to all harts. The Emperour being at Prage, L [...]onius desired leaue to returne to Corinth, and thence to carry his beautyfull, and beloued Veralinda to her father, not doubting but to gaine [Page 401] his consent for their hoped-for marriage, and so to bring her bake into Mo­rea against the other marriages, where his might make vp one of the bles­sed number. His request was granted, and so he tooke his leaue, desiring to trauell alone, trusting to doe something sit for his birth and bloud, to make his meeting more welcome to his friends. He parted as hee desired, onely one Squire attending him, hee pass'd the rest of Germany without aduen­ture, those parts so wrapt in ioy, and content, as an aduenture durst not ap­peare, for feare of beating; but in Bulgaria he had one sufficient to answer, for all the rest of his quiet passage.

Riding through a great Forrest, for many daies he met no man, or crea­ture, but heard wild beasts roare, and make hideous noyses; his Squire and he pass'd on, he thinking of his Loue, the other how to auoid the danger of that place if suddenly surprised by those fierce inhabitants. As thus they trauelled, a Gentlewoman came riding very fast towards them, her counte­nance shewed distresse, her apparell good, and comely, but her face sad, and perplexed, [...]hewing frightfulnesse so perfectly, as shee was (one might say truely) disturb'd, or a very exact dissembler. When she came nere Leonius, she cast her eyes vpon him, O cry'd shee, that courtesie were lodging equall to beauty in this Knight; hee hearing her, Faire Gentlewoman, said hee, what reason haue I giuen you to doubt my desire to serue you, should not answer any outward person? Truely Sir, said shee, my owne misfortune makes me doubt, which hath beene such hitherunto, as neuer any could so iustly say, liued forlorne of happinesse, and this makes me suspitious of any, but misery. Alas said he, how can it be, that you should bee made faire, to fall into so foule mischance? I am (said shee) the most afflicted liuing, and will let you see it, although you assist me not, for you shall heare my story, and if that may mooue, I may be bless'd; but first, I beseech you tell mee your name. I am call'd (said hee) Leonius, Sonne to the King of Naples, and brother said she, I hope to the famous Emperour. Yes indeed (said he) it is my happines to haue that honour. You are most happy in that, said she, and now haue I a little share, me thinkes, of content, that I haue mine eyes bless'd with the sight of his brother, who wants no harts, but tongues suffi­cient to set out his praise, hauing all that are created already to the full that blessing can enioy.

My fortune Sir (said shee) is this, I had a Father, and he many children, but in the number had, as Merchauts haue among their wares, some good, some bad, mixed as the mothers were of disposition, which being many had seuerall heires: for foure wiues he had, my mother the last, by whom he had my selfe, and one brother, who lines and is all (if any) comfort I haue; this youth and I bredd together increased affection and loue most betweene vs, so as we loued more then any other two: the elder scorning vs, what for our young yeares, and so want of discretion fit to accompany them, or for being but halfe in bloud, had but halfe affection shewed towards vs. I know not the truth, but sure I am, I feele the hurt and want. At last my father died, leauing vs to the eldest sonne, who vsed vs well and kindly, but hee died soone after, leauing the second to succeed him; which he did for the estate, but not for goodnesse, hee being as vnkind and curst, as the other was affable and lo­uing; he kept vs, tis true, but how? only from staruing; for plenty wee were [Page 402] scanted both of meanes and content, while frowardnes and ill natures was in aboundance. Then did this brother marry, and wed more ill humours, for she was richer in ill nature, then he that was like a sacke of woole, stuffed with wickednes. A third, and then second Brother liued, whose ill out-sprung (though an after plant) the elder; hee went so far as hee left no ill vnpracti­sed, not so much as that he ventur'd not once to attempt the staine of my chastity, and his shame in me. This indeede made my hate vncurable, and like a fire hapned, where Oyle, pitch, rosin, flax, and all such cumbustable matters are together, can be quenched with nothing till the ruine shewes the tryumph: so my wrong can be heal'd by nothing but the deadliest re­ueng. This I was not able to obtaine my selfe, but I was forced to demand helpe, and acquaint my deere brother withall, who twise met him in the feild, but both brought home hurt alike, and like resembling death, none knowing the quarrell but my selfe, or had all beene assured of it, none like me could haue grieued; now perceiuing that thus no end would be of the iniury, we alone but for our selues trauelled from that place to a Castle not far hence, the desertnes of it, and this place only furnished with wild beasts, making it abandoned of them, and most that loue pleasure. We were suffered to be quiet heere, whether out of loue to themselues, or hate to vs, hoping to heare daily of our ruine; but contrary to their wish we haue con­tinued heere three yeares vnhurt, yet not vnharmd, because I haue beene the cause of hurt too many braue Gentleman like your selfe who haue ho­nour'd me, and truth with aduenturing cheering yet haue perished, my bro­thers being infinite strong, and lucky in their aduentures. This I confesse hath so much perplexed me, as I haue almost resolued neuer to entreat any more to fauour me rather then that they should dye to reuenge me so worth­les a creature; yet Sir you are of so braue a Stocke, and brother to so happy a King, as I may me thinkes hope on you, yet as you are bound most for these, besides the hopes your owne person may giue, I will not vrge you least I should be so luckles as to procure least harme to you, for Sir there is no pitty, nor good to be expected f [...]ō them if you fall into their hands, wher­fore I will sooner, & more willingly cousent to remaine thus wronged, dis­honor'd, & ouerthrowne, then se [...]ke to be ayded by your harme; Leonius the more cunningly, and finely she insinuated by intreating, and denying, won more on him, so as he told her if it pleased her to put that confidence in him, he would lay that life at her feete, and the feete of Iustice which she seemed so much to respect, and that he would encounter her brother to right her honour touched by him. She humbly thanked him, and so led him towards a Castle standing in the middest of the wood, where he was receiued with much respect by him who was her Lord, and brother to her as she said; in­to the Castle they went, the gate shut againe, and a Mote being about the Castle, a Bridg was drawne vp, Leonius liked it not extreamely well, yet she telling him twas for their safety, he pass'd on satisfied with her answere; the Lord with al respect, & kindnes in a friends part acted, welcom'd him: at sup­per delicate, and fine fare was set before him, no truth in affection, nor ex­act counterfetting could better be acted; sad Leonius was, whether foretel­ling his danger, or the hideous noyses and roaring of the Beasts, made as me­lancholly a passion on his minde, as their voyces were to the eares of the [Page 403] hearers. After supper he walked vp and downe, seeming iust the picture of his braue brother, who seldome was other then a noble retired spirit to it selfe, demanded. To his chamber he then was carried by the Lord and Lady, there found he a braue roome furnished with stuffe, and Plate fit for a Prince his lodging, he weary, and willing to see the time when he might againe be bles­sed with Veralindas sight, he went to bed, folding his armes, wishing his Mi­strisse instead of her imagined selfe, had been betweene them; he sighed, and turned as if from vaine hopes, and put himselfe within the clothes to couer his folly, as impossible wishes euer are. Long he had not rested, when from that he was cald, as a little being too much for him, many men came in, the first carrying Candles, the rest a Banket; hee sat vp in his bed admiring the maner, when the Lady came to him, & drank to him, willing him to be mer­ry, and (said she) reioyce, for now you are fallen into the hands, with that making a signe, & his eies being fixt on her, besides a little heauy, so quickly discernd not the treason, as otherwise he had; cords were throwne ouer his armes, and he made prisoner. Vilanous treason, cryd he, of any, and most de­stable of any other, what is the cause, what is the meaning of this? I am indeed falne, but how? by treachery and falshood in a faire Counterfetter, but fou­lest in the being fal [...]e. She laughed to see him tide, and told him, she neuer saw chaines better become a Knights armes, then his, especially they ought to sit best on the Emperours brother next himselfe, whom she wished in his place, though he were on that condition free. He said no more, but was tormented inwardly as much, as so noble a spirit could be, but he with all careful and de­sirous to free himself, if he could catch opportunity. They careles desird him to rise and go with them, heedles of his watch, which they repented; for he ri­sing, found the chaines so loose, as he slipt out of them, and getting his sword which lay euer with him drawne, such a busines he made among thē, as ma­ny were hurt, and some kild, the Lady he kickt ouer, & with al contempt told her, that he would die like a Prince, hating her abominable trechery, & scor­ning more her falshood, then plot. Some of the seruants ran to their Lord, to let him know the accident, and to know what should bee done; hee in his Gowne and only his shirt vnder it, his sword in his hand following the ser­uants, who when they came to the chamber, let him (as being their Master) haue the place to enter, they indeede not daring to venture againe into the roome. He went in, finding Leonius then vpon one of his men, and him he best loued, ready to strike off his head; Hold your hand, said he, braue Prince, and end your quarrell on me more meriting the blow. All of you, said he, equally merit punishment for disloialty, but you indeed most, being the greatest, and therfore most vnfit to be ill, but ill beeing most punish-worthy, still holding his sword ouer the man. What may I do (said the Lord) to satisfie you? To giue me liberty (said Leonius) although it be my due, being brought hither to serue your faithlesse Sister: I will not bee so poore to aske; yet if I must make my choice, I will be content with this, let vs two as we are in our shirts fight for liberty or imprisonment, if you ouercome, I will remaine willingly your gaine, if I vanquish, let me haue liberty to depart, and on these conditi­ons I will saue the life of this creature. I am content, said the Lord. With that he threw his Gowne off.

Nay stay (said the fauourd man, my safty shal not proue harme any more to [Page 404] him that giues me life, call your sonne, and your other seruants, coniure him and them to performe this condition; well was this liked, and so performed. Then did Leonius, and the Castle Lord [...]ight so daintily and valiantly, as ne­uer was any combat like it, naked men brauely performing, what discourses or Romancies striue with excellentest witty descriptions, to expresse in Knights armed, curious in their arming, and carefull. Here is no defence but vallour, and good fortune; armour, but delicate shirts, and more delicate skinnes; sheilds, but noble breasts of steele sufficient, being strong in worth: yet the noblest must ouercome, so did Leonius, who hauing kild the Lord, ha­uing himselfe receiued some wounds, but none very dangerous, stood still looking on the young Lord, who with teares beheld his father dead, and ca­sting his eyes like a noble Gentleman on Leonius, Sir (said he) you haue now the conquest, and shall haue the conditions kept with you, which were made by my father. In weeping he cald for a Chirurgion, who dressed his wounds, seeking first for helpe for his father, but there was no hope; hee nobly deli­uerd the Armes againe belonging to Leonius, to him: when he had receiued them, and saw all things iustly performed, which was by the mankind promi­sed, he desired one thing more of the Gentleman, whose harme brought his good, which was, to know the truth of the busines. My Lord (said he) the truth is this, there is nothing true which she related vnto you but faigned, as diuers others haue been to worke her end: She is not sister, nor any thing that good is to my dead Lord, but a creature kept by him, this my young Lord being sonne by his vertuous and worthy wife, whose heart was broken by his immoderate affection to this woman; she hated all worth, and now sure­ly was cloyd with him, striuing by all meanes to put him into dangerous ad­uentures, not caring what shee did, so she had her pleasure. No weeke hath passed, that she hath not had one, or two of such like businesses, faigning fals­hoods, and discourses as she found their Persons shee met withall, especially hating the Emperour for his, and your fathers sake, who gaue offence to her, by hauing in his youth a while liked her mother, and for necessity of the place surely more then affection hauing enioyed, after left her. This (as leauing is a hatefull thing to women vpon what termes soeuer) and she doubting her end would grow vnto it, vowed all hurt to your illustrious family, and to that end she laid this trap for you. Leonius took his leaue of the young Lord, who brought him out of the Castle to see him safe, permitting his Chirurgion to goe with him, turning the vild creature out of his gates alone, and vnproui­ded of any thing but her wickednesse, wherewith she was plentifully furnish­ed, and all that with her selfe enioyed by the wild beasts. Noble was this act, for a braue enemy gaines equall fame by nobly vsing his enemy as by cheri­shing his friend. Leonius tooke his iourney, and way still, as he pretended to his Mistrisse; he passed Bulgaria, hating it for this mischiefe, and without any saue neate aduenture, which was this, gaind right against Corinth. A passionate man walked vp and downe the Sands, being vpon the Strand of the Gulfe of Lepanto, somtimes viewing Heauen, crauing aide from thence, then the earth blaming her cruelty; alas, cryd he pitiles Heauen that could view, and permit such extremity, to suffer so chastly loyall a Loue to end in so sad a sort. Who could (but you) haue beheld her dying, and not succour her? With that the Prince went to him, desiring to heare the whole discourse, who hauing vrgd, [Page 405] the passionate Man spake thus. I am not tied (said he) to make the relation; but I must know one thing before I speake, which is, whether you bee a louer or not, if you bee, I shall the more willingly speake, because you will vnder­stand mee, else I shall be loth to bestow much passionate breath so much in vaine, to one that will no more esteeme of it, then of an old tale. The Prince gaue him full satisfaction of h [...]s being a louer, when the Man said thus. This vnfortunate piece of mankind you see here, is called Cilandrus. I am of Co­rinth borne [...] and bred a Merchant; a Knight in that City had a daughter cald Lendrina, of admirable beauty, and such as by the iust admiring it brought many, and most to be her seruants, all gazing on her, as on a Meteor, she knew her perfections, otherwise she had not deserued them; but being too exact in knowledge was proud of their rarenesse, and so farre as she thought them not fit to be bestowed on any, none being worthy of them. Men of all sorts sued vnto her, she had answers of all kinds answerable to their estates to be­stow on them; but the Prince he saw her, and liked her, she thought he must not for her owne honour being an assured credit, as shee esteemed it, or bee sought by him, who shee falsely imagined might command all, entertained him, but how? not fondly, nor so kindly, but as she vsed him respectiuely, yet she made him sue, and labour for his ends. She would meete him at places appointed, but as if she were without him to haue gone to them, & by chance met him. Out of the Towne she would goe to a house of her fathers, thither would he goe to visit her, and to see how the aire (the pretended cause of her going) agreed with her. She accepted of his visits, and tooke them as graces to her, and would fauour him so farre, as to come to the Towne with him, so as he attended her to her house, for she loued the noise of loue, as wel as loue it selfe, thinking it a braue thing to heare it said, the Prince visits Lendrina, the Prince seekes, and sues to her, the Prince is in loue with Lendrina. This folly puft her vp, so as she in time grew like a Rose ouer-blowne, loosing her more in youth exquisite beauty, yet her mind was as full of ambition, and pride. I yet reuerenced her, for surely she was honest, folly and vanity rather working, then want of vertue, though stoor'd with those vices. A Noble­man also of that Towne fell enamoured of her, although he would not haue had it, said so, beca [...]se a braue, but vnfortunate Lady lou'd him to that height of expression, and length of time, as gratefulnesse boldly challenged loue, but that she scarce had being forced to be contented with a few good words sel­dome visits, and cold promises, she poore Lady louing so feruently, as if no­thing else did mooue. That made Lendrina proud to haue his loue from her, but when her beauty began to fade, the Prince his affection grew like a coole euening after a hot day, yet still showing loue; this discouerd, how did shee rumble vp her wits, and not only hers, but also the best braines of her friends, or helps in her affections busines? What poasting was there vp an downe? what consultations, plots for meetings, but with whom? with the other Lord, and he (braue Gentleman abused by their crafts) made belieue her af­fection was such to him, as for him she would leaue the Prince, and in com­parison of her loue to him, hated all else. Hee began to belieue it, and some reason hee had, because shee made her high mind stoope to come to places where shee might encounter him; his true louer heard of it, and so farre it wrought in her kind heart, as she fell sicke almost to death: but something he [Page 406] did comfort her, although so faint his words were, and weake his protestati­ons, as but that she willing to cosen her selfe with good opinion of him, shee might haue thought them dissemblings, which for the good I beare her, and deserued honour she meriteth, God grant she find not so, and this should all Louers wish, for when she dyes, loue will neuer find so certaine an habitati­on, and that want he will shortly haue, for the noble Lady cannot long su­staine with this induring, and this grieues me, for I honour, and loue her most of any woman, except her for whom these my sorrows are; deep, and remedi­lesse are the wounds vnkindnesse brings in loue, grieuous the cruelty vngra­titude brings forth, but these are as vsuall now among vs, as faire seasons in Sommer: He came one day into a roome where she remained, and woare a colour which she had procured him once for her sake (hating it) to leaue, and neuer more to weare, she looked on it as he doth on the Axe, whose head is to be taken off with it: her heart smarted, and shee was perplexed, yet durst she not find falt, but sadly told him, she had not seene him weare that colour in many yeares before. No quoth he, nor now but a little, it is in great request (said she) at this time; is it, said he? Why, who doth loue it? She feared to tell him whom she doubted, and was well assured affected it, but put it off, and laid it on another. Alas, poore and pure loue, what gouernours hast thou, and fond commanders, that thou canst not bee iust vnto thy selfe for feare of ouerseers? and yet what ouerseers feare you? but those that ouersee their true respect, and makes you blind to truth? I saw her another time (for be­ing a louer like her, I loued solitarinesse) alone laid by a Riuer side the most pleasant place that my eyes euer saw, and fittest for passion to gaine libertie in, hauing all such delicasies in sight, and varietie, as these her speeches will let you vnderstand to be sweet, but silent hearers of her paines. O Heauens, Earth Plaines, Mountaines, Hills, Forrests, Riuers, Springs, Caues, Feilds, Hearbs, Vines, Woods, Groues, Flowers, Masse, Rocks, Trees, witnesse my faith and loue, and say for me that you grew not, spring not, runne not, flow not, senci­bly increase, nourish, graze, prosper, and inrich but these, and they oft told haue bin in me, and my estate; I haue been happy like your best rich yeere, I haue despaird, and do like dearth I haue flowed, and swom in pleasure, I am dried in sorrow and despaire, I haue bin all, and now am nothing but a poore sad thing to say I was; force me not deare remembrance to these harmes, if you helpe not I shall waste enough, and doe. These tooke I to my selfe, and paraleld my fortunes with her woes: but what auaild? shee cryd, and grieued remedilesly, so do I too. My thinks, said Leonius, you rather, or as willingly set forth her sorrowes, as your owne, the strangen [...]sse of her worthines in truth makes me to speake so much of hers, mine being but as shadowes to them, though true substances of miseries, and the more perfect in being like hers, who is the perfectest louer, she I say (said he) who neuer yet saw storme to stirre her thoughts, though Shipwrackt in his scorne; no wind blew her to change, nor change had gliding neare her, much lesse stay, but to my paines, Sir this it is. The Lady beloued and sought, had a Gentlewo­man attending on her, who had, and hath full rule of mee, shee faire and delicate, knew shee might bee, or ought to bee beloued, looked like a Princesse secure in her estate, where all hearts were hers, so shee smiled on mee, as on a subiect, I tooke it more kindlie, and so wrapped my [Page 407] selfe willingly into the Snare; for when I came to her, and out of hope im­boldned craued her fauor, she told me she was not Marchandise, nor to bee gaind that way, but her loue was free, and freely should be giuen. I quaked at that instant like a child before the rod; but after I tooke courage, and a­gaine persued, but yet preuailed not, for her affections were placed on a Gentleman Steward of the house, a fine man, and such an one as meriteth the title, delicate in his apparell, Courtly in his discourse, and as a young man passionate in shew, and curious in his behauiour like a Courtier, these pre­uailed with her, his perfumes ascended aboue my desearts, his neatnes be­yond my estate, and his fairenes exceeded my merits, but I enuy not his for­tune, nor did I hate any thing but my misfortune, nor haue I reason, for hee enioyed her not so much as to marriage, which would he had though I had euer lost, and gaind but only sight of her, deerer to me then millions of in­ioyings of Kingdomes were they offer'd me, while I must still want her, who being too too rich a prize for man, or Earth, is calld away, and only Heauen fit for her, she doth inioy that place, Hells tormenting furyes lying still in me, shee's dead, deere loue and perfect beauty ending with her. But by your fa­uour said Leonius, I should lesse lament her losse since she was an others, then had shee beene mine owne in part, what is an others treasure to mee? but more, what is the griefe to see that which my selfe most loueth and coueteth, to be possest by an other? the possession would so much afflict me, as the se­cond losse would neuer trouble me. You assuredly Sir (said he) are no louer, if one, but a faint one, and such an affecter as gaine is your loue, nor can losse trouble you, for you being a selfe louer, loue but for your owne ends, if they be denyed the loue remoues to an other place, as we of our profession, if our Trade faile in one Country, we transport, and transplant to an other; but loue can haue on such liberty, remoues are not suffered there, one place con­taines the scope of one mans loue, and my hart is the staple of fruitlesse Con­stancy. Thus he lamented, telling Leonius that that place pleased him best, because he could from thence view Corinth, or part of that where his affecti­on liued in life, and death. The Prince then tooke his leaue of him, and ta­king Shipping arriued on the other side, and shortly at the Court, which was held at Corinth; great content was shewed generally in all mens eyes, and their hearts did answere it, the Ladyes were glad because they all loue'd him as a braue young Prince, and receiued from him the assurance of their seruants well-fare, but long he stayed not, carrying Veralinda his deerest selfe to her father into Frigia; this gaue fit opportunity to Pamphilia to desire leaue also to visit her Country, which with much importunity was granted her, but first she resolued to go [...] into Arcadia to find Siluiana, drinke the water with her, and then visite Pamphilia. These delicate, and matchles La­dyes tooke their way leauing the Court like the Skye when the Starrs only shine, and the nights fairest light appeareth not: in this voyage they shall be left, being time for Bellamiras iourny to be spoken off. After she had proui­ded her selfe of all necessaries fit for her, she trauelled towars Saint Maura, arriuing there within short time being neither hindred by wind not ad­uenture; her Father shee found, and her finding him gaue such ioy to the aged Lord, as he thought all those passed yeares renued againe in youth in him. Quickly she got him thence leauing that place only possess'd with the [Page 408] richnesse of well wishes, both of his and all that know it, especially those who had receiued the excellent benefit of forgetfulnes in it. At their returne into Dalmatia, the King hearing of his arriuall sent vnto him, intreating his presence, which he obayed, his Daughter going with him, and both re­ceiuing all honour from his Maiestie; hee looking on her, as one would doe on a faire field after the Corne is reaped, so was the haruest of his affection to her passed. There she met a Gentleman in good place then vnder the King, who had formerly serued and beene Gentleman of the horse to her yet loued loue; this Gentleman out of old acquaintance and beloued fami­liarity, brake somewhat boldly with her concerning her affection, the con­tinuance of it, and lastly whether she would bee so kind as to accept of his loue againe if he [...] offered it, assuring her that hee was in far better estate for his affections returning to her, then she seemed to credit. Much shee mar­uelled at this discourse, and his new boldnes, who had neuer before aduen­tured to speake of it in all his time of happines; feare shee might haue done but that she weighed his honesty, neuer in any thing touched, being alwai [...]s held, and found a sinceere man, and iust; yet so finely she carried her selfe as she found by him he had commission to say what hee did, yet not to let it be knowne, she would not be too busie, but answered them as she thought fit­test, concluding vpon much vrging, that no earthly blessing could bee such to her as his loue, and the returne of it. He only smild, and bid her take heed she was not the losse of it. She was so wary, and her former beloued, and louing Lord so passionate, as quickly they were as once they were, no iniu­ries pass'd remembred, no recounting of pass'd vnkindnesses, but as if only absence had held them assunder, so meeting made their loues as at the be­ginning, happines aboue it selfe, and this shee felt, going soone after to her owne house, whither her father went, and her loue, with many others, no ioy nor content like theirs. Her Father was called againe to serue the King, and made Marshall of Dalmatia; thus Dettareus is againe a Knight, and Bella­mira once more contented, which she shall continue, but Dettareus must be yet punnished for his former fault and offence. Pamphilia being in Arcadia went to seeke her friend and companion as she call'd her in her sorrowes, but as she pass'd along those pleasant plaines, remembring that she had seen them in her flourishing time of fortune, and when she was richer in blessings then they in plenty, fuller of happines then they of sweetnes, more ioyfull, and hopefull then they delightfull or greene, O Playnes cry'd shee, how doth constancy protect, and gard you in delicasie? how doe miseries change, and wither me? deere Arcadia I loue you yet because my constancy suits with yours, pitty me then that pines in that vertue, and if euer I see you decaying I will waile with you.

A lasse, heere haue I breath'd my blessings among you, now must I reueale my losses, yet continue as you were, and I shall thinke misfortune only re­serued for mee as best, or fittest to deserue mischeife; yet deere, I loue thee still, though faine would blame (as iustly) thy vnkindnes, but loue forbids me, & I must for truths sake in loue suffer all without condemning; cruell yet I may call thee, and thou hast no cause to blame mee for that, for thine owne soule tels thee I speake truth, mend then or kindly with more violence end me. The groue she then arriued at, where sitting downe hard by, where [Page 409] first she met Siluiana, here said she once liued a poore true forsaken louer to, her I come to finde, and with her conclude my dayes, then behoulding those places, and her thoughts more perfectly setting them selues before her eyes, which as the streme she made her glasse, she with many sorrowfull sighs, and deepe groanes vttered this Sonnet.

Yes I doe liue, cry'd she, but to what end? only to mourne, lament, and m [...]ane a state all pitty wants, since musing in that place from whence it clay­med is by due. Would I could not accuse thee, yet my loue is such, as I would rather blame my selfe then thee, deere, this I must not doe, for then my merrit so small could not aske reward, I still am iust, and purely loue thee. O werr thou but vnstaind for thine owne worths sake, my soule doth wish it thee, though thou were cruell still. Among the trees and bushes then she walked [...] plucking of flowers which adorned their roots, and then as a little higher thoughts did rise, she saw inscriptions in the barke, and vnder them left some of hers, to witnesse her distresse, where she found the letters intwined of Alatina, and her loue, she vnder them set hers, and her deere loue: thus spent she some howers till a pleasant tune, and ioyfull voyces called her a little from her sadnesse; going to the edge of the Groue, shee perceiued a great troupe of Shepherds of all ages, the young men with flowers on their heads, the old with Iuy, then came a dainty creature shee might thinke to be Siluiana, but loathe she was to imagine, she, or any wor­thy woman would change, nor indeed was willing to thinke her the same, but some other delicate Lasse, but at last she was forced to confesse it was Alarina, and so she thought Siluianas vow was still vnviolated. This woman came crowned with Roses, led between two fine Shepherd youths, after her followed all the Shepherdesses apparelld neatly, & finely after their custome. She admired them, and gazed like men on a miracle, yet resolu'd not to stir, nor discouer her selfe, commanding only one of her trusty seruants, to watch what the conclusion would be, who brought her word that they were all [Page 410] entred the Temple, and that it was for the solemnizing of A [...]arinas wed­ding. Alasse said she, can there not liue two canstant women all at one time? yet Pamphilia be thou still iust, and though but thy selfe, and so alone to suf­fer glory in such martyrdome. Home shee then went, thinking Alarina no companion for her, when she was in her Chamber looking out of her win­dow vpon the Gardens she had vsed to breath her passions of ioy, as often as of paine in, alasse cry'd she, why doe all my old friends as it were turne the hand of my wretched Dyall, to make me see my vnfortunate houres by? I will said she, leaue these enemy-turnd-friends, and goe into my owne Country, where at least I may finde new, and vnknowne places, though perhaps no more easefull, yet before I goe, I will see Alarina, and so what change that change hath wrought in her. Then gaue she order to the offi­cers to prouide for her iourney to Pamphilia, and commanded the same ser­uant of hers, to find out Alarina, and desire her to attend her in the Garden walks. This was performed, & the sweet Shepheardesse attended the Queen, who taxing her for her lightnesse in change, thus answered her. Braue Queen said she, I confesse this most true that you haue said, if onely truth in stead­fastnes liued heere, but if you will vouc [...]safe me the hearing, you shall see I am not faulty, though the appearance to your iudging eyes may iudge me so; had I broke my vow, and my vow to truth in leauing Diana, and louing a new loue, I had vnpardonably err'd, but Madam I am free from touch of fault in this, and only Fortune is guilty of all, I was beloued, and lou'd a­gaine deuoutly, I was forsaken, and for it grieued vnmeasurably; I changed my state in dispaire, tis true, heere was I faulty to change at all, but you ima­gine my fault is this alteration, no Madam, this is no changing, but a happy returne to my first blessed estate, for had I taken a new loue, I could not haue beene pardoned any more then for refusing my old one when he offered his affection againe: thus am I free, and once more fortunate, for now I haue my loue tyed by his owne, and marriage vowes, neuer such content as requi­tall of loue brings forth, but yet returning loue exceeds it, and so you will say when you shall find this happinesse, of which I make no question. Would your promises would proue true said Pamphilia, though I then were taxed as I did you with change, but I expect it not, yet sweete Alarina, how did hee preuaile against your resolution? By strong force of loue said shee, for Madam, let vs flatter our selues neuer so much with thought of power, to resist, and set determinations to refuse while wee are alone, or absent from the sight of him, whose charms bewitcheth vs, his sight againe giues life to our first passions, and turnes the strength of our imaginati­ons to powerful seruants of his will; as the strength of ones body in a hot dis­ease works against it self: thus experience, the truth of knowledge teacheth vs. I once thought what a foole am I to seeke, where I am reiected, to sue where I am scornd, and petition where I am disdaind; shall I sink to this base­nes? shal I forget my own merits, and beg of an vngrateful creature, who tri­umphs in my wrongs? no, I wil let him see, scorne can haue children as truly borne as loue, & those are bred in me. I wil make him see my sencible disliks, and his false eies by my despising them, shall find his error in my truth, and resolutenesse. These braue conceits I liked, and meant to practise: but when I saw him, O me, I was like a thiefe caught in the act, I hung downe my head, a­sham'd [Page 411] of mine owne thoughts; I hated my selfe, and pleaded guilty, ready standing to be condemn'd, as I was in his opinion: wee are fine creatures a­lone in our owne imaginations; but otherwise poore miserable captiues to loue. Flatter not your selfe deere Princesse, for belieue it, the greater your minde is, and the brauer your spirit, the more, and stronger are your passions, the violence of which though diuersly cast, and determined, will turne still to the gouernment of loue; and the truer your subects are to you, the firmer will your loyalty be to him. I grant all this, said Pamphilia, but these things concerne not me further then the gladnesse I haue for your good; since I pro­test truely that no scorne, nor any cruell course whatsoeuer he can vse, or hath vsed, though to the extremity of ill, could, or shall alter my heart from being his, or from fulnesse of content with all true and affectionate accep­tance of his loue, if hee would blesse me againe with it. But I cannot hope, my despaire out-weighs all such thoughts, and makes me dryer in losse then blasts doe trees, though they kill them. Alarina stroue to comfort her, assu­ring her that she could not haue more cause to sorrow & lament then she had had, nor be further from hope or colour of it then she once was; yet said she, now I haue pass'd all those sad misaduentures, and am arriu'd at the happy harbour of enioying. Long may you so be blessed, said Pamphilia, and soone may like blessings befall you, said Alarina: from this they grew to discourse of Poetry, the Shepheardesse saying merry songs of her making, since the turne of fortune, the Queenes continued in the same straines they were of lamentation.

Some dayes were thus passed, till her iourney call'd her thence, when ta­king leaue of Alarina, the Queene went towards the Shipping all the next Port, and soone after arriu'd in Pamphilia, where no [...]ooner the newes of her arriuall was spread; but the people from all parts came to see her, and ioy in her presence, while she ioyed in nothing, nor communed with any but her owne sad selfe, which she cal'd her losse, and passions for it: the sad­dest places were the most pleasing to her, the solitariest Caues or Rockes her chiefe abiding places, yet she lost not her selfe; for her gouernment con­tinued iust and braue, like that Lady she was, wherein she shewed her heart was not to be stirr'd, though her priuate fortunes shooke round about her. Leonius this while with his faire Veralinda trauel'd towards Phrygia; where being arriu'd, they sent vnto the King as strangers, to beseech liberty to see him, and to present some things that they knew would be most acceptable to him. He was an excellent wise Prince, and as any, courteous: wherefore he soone consented, and they apparel'd her after the manner of Italy as his Country, and she according to the Greeke fashion for Shepheardesses as ha­uing had her breeding there, and from those habits would not be altered, till she was receiued as a Princesse. They enter'd the Hall where the King was, being a braue old man, holding as maiesticke a countenance as his state re­quir'd: Leonius beheld him curiously, thē made this speech vnto him, holding his eyes fix'd on him, & the Lady of his soule by the hand. Great K. of Phri­gia, whose renown hath spread it selfe vnto all eares, giue your seruant leaue to say this vnto you. I am stranger borne farre hence, son vnto the King of Naples, and brother to Amphilanthus, Emperour of the Romanes, of whom after I had receiued Knighthood, I gained leaue to goe abroad [Page 412] to try my fortune. Into Morea I went to visit the King thereof, who for my honour, I haue the grace to be his neere Cousin, but in Arcadia, it was my happines (as I hope) to meete this Shepheardesse whose true and loyall ser­uant I vowed to be, for her sake I chang'd my habits, and from a Knight be­came a Nimph, with her I conceald, liu'd, she nor any other mistrusting me, for other then my outward shew gaue them cause to thinke me to bee. Still my affection increased, and the daily conuersation made this beautifull crea­ture affect my company, at last she was by the Kings Shepheard, (whom she had till then taken for her father) sent thence, my selfe discouered to him only went with her into an Iland in the Gulfe of Venice wherein were in­chanted the greatest, brauest, valiantest men, and the excellentest Ladies of the whole world, by this diuine creature they were released, & the charmes finished. At the cōclusion of thē, a book of gold vpon a Pillar of the same ap­pear'd, which being taken down & read, therin was found the whole story of this rare Shepheardesse, which brought her to the knowledge that shee is your daughter, & I am hither come as hers, & your humblest seruant to con­duct her to your presence. The King rose and with moderate ioy kiss'd them both, ioyfull of the newes; yet hauing had so much misfortune, could not but doubt the truth of what was so much desird. She then on her knees de­liuer'd the Booke vnto him, wherein he found what Leonius had related to be true: the Prince deliuer'd likewise vnto him letters from his brother the Emperour, to desire the marriage. The graue old King heartily reioyced at this blessing, but bore it, as he had done his afflictions, with equall temper; then tooke he Leonius by the one hand, and his daughter by the other, cal­ling his Lords round about him, to whom hee deliuered these glad newes, withall, the Emperours desire, concludiug, that his consent was gained, and therefore demanded their allowance to the marriage. They consented, and ratified it with full ioy and contentment; then ioyn'd he their hands in that assembly, contracting them, and promising himselfe to accompany them back to Morea, where they should be married as Amphilanthus had intreated, for the honour of the other great Kings and Princesses. Robes of state were soone brought to Veralinda, in which she appear'd like Venus when she won the Apple from the other two Goddesses. Triumphs were presently made, and she proclaim'd heire apparant to the Crowne. Thus was Leonius and Ve­ralinda made happy with that they most on earth required. A braue Fleete of Ships were straight prepared for their Voyage; feasts continuing till that time in all the Kingdome, ioy now like the Summer flourishing brauely a­mong them. Amphilanthus hauing bin long enough in Germany, & so lawful an occasion offer'd him for his return into Morea, established Ollorandus, whō he made his Deputy with the Princesse to gouerne in his absence, which hee promised should bee but short, aud his returne speedy, his way he tooke of purpose through Dalmatia, to see the King and the Lady had been offer'd him for wife, being after many aduentures arriued, there hee was enter­tain'd like himselfe, which is expression enough for the rarest entertain­ments. Dauncing there was among the Ladies, one appearing as much excelling, as she deseru'd admiration for her beauty and that qua­lity. All the Kings and Princes beheld her with one fauourable opinion; but Amphilanthus did enquire who she was, and how bestow'd in marriage. [Page 413] He was informd that she was Daughter to the Master of the horse, married to a great man, but wedded in affection to a young noble-man in the Court, who also had a brother that lik'd her, they both loued her, shee vs'd them both so indifferently, as they could not in two yeares tell whether she loued: The elder doubted the younger, he feard his brother, both were affraid to offend her, and so remain'd vnsatisfied: till at last whether more boldnes, or truer, and cleerer affection grew in the elder, hauing beene beloued, and like­wise louing one another, though desiring this Lady out of a couetous hu­mour of enioying all that worthy was in loue, he found it was himselfe shee affected: he embraced it, she then liberally declared her selfe, and so they were both happy. The younger from the first doubting could not be more then formerly, since now he saw but what hee fear'd, and by this might the better auoid a fur [...]er danger, which he did choosing an other leauing this couple most contented in themselues, though discontented with many o­thers; for his other Mistris grew spitefull, his wife froward, and suspitious, her husband iealous and troublesome; yet what were all these? only meanes to make them loue the better, & their loues to be the more pleasing, like stoln fruit, which is alwayes sweetest. In this estate they then were, but the questi­on may be asked, how these secrets were knowne? it may be easily answer'd, and not vniustly said, that surely it came from the happy louer, who with fulnesse of ioy and content could not be so neere miserablenesse, as to keepe such a treasure hid to kimselfe, and thus doe many times such discoueries come. The Emperour commended them all, and especially the Lady, whose part he was apt to take: the newes of his being there brought Dettareus to kisse his hands, and to see his fellow-Hermite Parselius, with the other two his good companions; but one of them he miss'd, for Dolorindus was gone to Antissia againe. He had not beene long there; when one day the royall as­sembly being in the Hall, and ready to see dauncing, there came in a graue old man of good fashion and birth, as he after proued, his beard and hayre white, his face something with sorrow and age wrincled, resembling a faire tree in frost: he kneeled vnto the King beseeching iustice; hee promised it, and bound it with an oath, being vrg'd vnto it by this Gentleman; then ri­sing, Sir (said he) hee that hath done me iniury, and the man I seeke reuenge of, is Dettareus, who I know will not, nor can forget the wrong he did me, which although I will not particularly name, not louing to take vp the ashes of the dead, or staine a long quiet graue with guilt or infamy: I will onely touch thus farre as to remember him of the breach of hospitality, and the noblest band of friendship, in trust; this is that I call reuenge for, and these I must bee satisfied in. The King call'd Dettareus forth, who couered with shamefull sorrow, appear'd like the sonne had rob'd his father of his greatest treasure holding his eyes on the ground, as iustly condemn'd: The King was sorry to see him so deiected, but his word was ingaged; wherefore hee de­manded of him what he wo [...]ld answer to this. He replied, that is life was not sufficient to satisfie so foule a fault as he confessed himselfe guilty in; yet he was to answer none for that businesse, since the wrong'd was dead. Dead in­deed cryed the other to all content, and yet saw his honour dye before him, otherwise Dettareus I am the man iniur'd by you, not kil'd, as you imagin'd, but recouered againe by skilfull Chirurgions from all your blowes, but one [Page 414] which cannot bee cured, but by the balme of your heart bloud or mine: I therefore desire that you will in the presence of these braue Princes (then be­fore whom none can haue a noblier end) fight with mee, and honour mee with death, which I assure you shal be as welcome to me as your ouerthrow; we are neither so young as to vndertake a rash businesse, our age hath made vs perfect and free from that, nor are we so old, that death should claime our suddaine yeeldings; let then the life and strength wee haue bee spent before this royall company, and let Iustice at last haue sway. Dettareus casting his eyes vp, beholding him, knew him and wept; yet would not deny what the other demanded; so they went forth and arm'd themselues: the King and all the Court did greatly pitty them, and especially. Dettareus, who appeared already dead to their eyes, kil'd by his owne foretelling ill. Instead of dan­cing they went into the lists where the strangest Comba [...] was fought that e­uer in Dalmatia was seene; yet did they seeme but like braue old armes of trees, whose fruite was yet faire and good: so was their strength, and the maner of their fight so exact and perfect, as young men had more cause to admire and learne then scorne their skill or courage: but Dettareus though in sight and fight continued a good space with the better; yet a conscience he had gnawed within him, and made his outward powers like an inward ta­ken poyson, shake and faint, so as the other got the victory and life of Dettar­reus. This had been hard and much to be lamented, if Iustice came not in to tell vs 'twas her act, and right, which made the Court satisfied, yet did they lament and mourne for his losse, the Emperour, and the other Princes his old friends going with his body to the graue. The other with as much con­tent as could be for such an accident, where honour was gain'd from the death of an once loued friend, return'd with liberty from the Court; but soone after in Apulia, from whence he strayed, after the certaine tidings of Dettareus liuing was discouer'd, and neuer stayed any where till hee learn'd where he remain'd, hearing his religious life he would not molest him, nor call him out of charity from his Beads to the sword, but like him liued in that manner in S. Maura on a mountaine till he was aduertised by the peo­ple who dwelled at the foote thereof, and whence hee fetched his food, of his going thence with his daughter, and of his taking armes againe. Then did he againe proue his imitator, and like him vse steele, and so followed his tract, tracing him as men do [...] hares in the snow, till hee found him at the Court, the end of which iourney is related, and his own end soone follow­ed, hauing got enough as he thought, in hauing honour restored, and satis­faction to his minde. From Dalmatia Amphilanthus and his friends tooke their way towards Morea, where being happily arriu'd, they found the King and his beautifull Court at Corinth, from whence they tooke their iourney to Mattinea, sending to Pamphilia to meete them; but shee humbly excused it to her father, and for the rest, they must beare with her absence. What ioy Meriana, whose heart was only her husbands, felt for his com­ming, such another, if such there be can onely expresse? Vrania, as a meere louer, Philistella, Selarina, Musalina and Lucenia, was also come from the in­chantment to accompany Musalina home (who was the best knowing & pra­ctis'd seruant in passions court) did make testimony of their affectiōs, though seuerally, yet all amorously & contētedly to their seruants, longing only now [Page 415] for the day of happines which soon follow'd: Leonius & his new father with the beautifull Veralinda comming soon to them. All now but Musalina & Lu­cenia married women must haue matches by lawfull vowes; but an vnfor­tunate match held her from a more blessed one, and so she must liue. Am­philanthus thought Morea was also the Empire of Germany, such a Court he found, and so braue company, as nothing was missing that might yeeld, or nurse content; but except Musalina, the Ladies had little conuersation with him, sometimes his Sister who was as much, and willingly entertained by Steriamus, yet would he, and all of them, speake often of Pamphilia, most wishing her there, while she onely spent her daies in sorrows, which was the Court shee gloried in, her delights, were sadde thoughts, her companions, teares, and groanes, and these liued, and yet still decaied the vnblessed Pam­philia. Haste was made of the marriages, which were performed with all ioy, and content, such trymuphs being there, as neuer had before beene seene in Morea. Perselina carrying away the honour for the delicatest, sweetest, and brauest Lady of her time; the others, though excellent aboue relation, yet had their times before her, shee being but a blossome sprung late, but as rare, and exquisite as euer any had beene.

The Queene of Bulgaria grew a little better, as company workes on all creatures, and makes the wildest indure mens sight, as Staggs will be tamed, and Lyons abide handling: yet her own nature remain'd with her, and that was an honour to her, for in nothing, nor for any thing one ought to leaue their old familiar acquaintance, till they leaue them, and yet not then nei­ther, for worthynesse is onely on [...]s owne, and as neerely toucheth one, as the bone doth the marrow that lyes within it: so this assures her vertue. She vsed all ciuilly, but Amphilanthus respectiuely, and the Prince her ser­uant, who excceeded all the other of his rancke in dauncing, kindly, and generally all friendly.

But now comes the time for their depart, the Queene of Naples stayed to be conducted home by her Sonne, who first with the Romanian Ladies, Lu­cenia hauing her old minde to Amphilanthus, went to Negropont to see Anti­sia, Steriamus, and his most deare Vrania went towards Albania, Selarinus and his most beloued Philistella to Epirus, Antissius and Selarina to Constanti­nople, Rosindy and his chastly louing, and truely beloued Meriaua, with Per­selina to Macedon, Parselius with Dalinea to their new Kingdome of Achaia, which (by Leandrus his death, and after his Fathers, who with his losse en­ded his daies) was falne to them: Philarchos and Orilena to Mytelin, Peris­sus and Limena stayd with the Queene of Naples by her entrety, till shee went to her Coutrey. Polarchos was made Chamberlaine of the House to the Emperour, aud so attended him, the King of Bulgaria and his great Queene also tooke for Bulgaria, the rest, euery one as their occasions call'd them, so as Morea remain'd bare like a roome after a great feast, the guests being gone, looking as vnfurnished, the braue rich furniture gone out of it: and thus was poore Morea. The Queenes of Naples and Cicely kept alwaies to­gether, and neuer failed walking in the sweet woods, once inriched with Pamphilia, and her loue; there they passed the time together, telling stories of themselues, and others, mixed many times with pretty fine fictions, both being excellently witty, and the Queene of Naples rare in Poetry, which [Page 416] Limena loued though she were none of the writing number her selfe. But one day they would needes haue Perissus with them into the Forrest to hunt after their manner which was but in a Charriot, while sometimes with cros­sing they met the Deere. In this dayes sport it happened to them that they lighted on the same Groue, and place, where Pamphilia had first found Sil­uiana, the place inuited them to stay in it, the stay procured dainty imagina­tions, they as delicate expressions, which made, and gaue birth to these Ver­ses framed by the most incomparable Queene, or Lady of her time, a Nigh­tingale most sweetly singing, vpon which she grounded her subiect.

Perissus protested that he neuer had heard any like them, and in so saying, he did right to them, and her who knew when she did well, and would be vn­willing to lose the due vnto her selfe, which he gaue her, swearing he neuer heard any thing finelier worded, nor wittilier written on the sudden. Limena would onely desire to haue them, for shee yeelded in that, as in all other things to her Lords iudgement. Vp and downe they walked, the Groue be­ing so delightfull as gaue content to all, and all sorts of Louers. Going along the Spring they found many knots, & names ingrauen vpon the trees, which they vnderstood not perfectly, because when they had decipher'd some of them, they then found they were names fained and so knew them not. But Perissus remembred one of the Ciphers, yet because it was Pamphilias hee would not knowe it. As they pass'd they saw a handsome, and well cloathed woman, neither walking, running, or staying, but as if she had made a moti­on of them all, and imployd them to her vanity; shee one while cryed, ano­ther chafed, smil'd, scratch'd her head, stamp'd, rail'd, and all at Loue; blind foolish thing, said she, be thou for euer hated and abandoned, haue I not better deseru'd of thee then thus to be handled? Must I be a miserable Testimony of thy cruelty, when I merited thy best fauours? I hate thee fro­ward Childe, and will neuer leaue reuiling thee, till thou doest requite mee, if neuer shame light on thee, and thy Baby gouernment. Haue I beene a qui­et patient of all thy follies [...] Suffered my selfe to fall vnder thy Tyranny [Page 417] to serue thy wilfulnesse, and obey thy vaine employments? Are these tol­lerable, or am I not fit to be rewarded? Peeuish Boy, either speedily requite and pacifie me, or be sure to be set forth in thy colours; no Bird beares so various, or seuerall calourd a Plume as thou dost in changeablenesse, which shall not be neglected but set foorth to the life; then Sir it may, you will say I am bitter, but the world shall see that you are vniust. Waiward Babe, I ad­mire thou hast a face to doe all this withall; 'twas well faign'd at first, that thou hadst no eyes, which indeed is the true face, for thou canst neither see truth, nor be seene truly by it. Vnworthy creature, an inuention fram'd, a thought lighter then thought, a Bubble made by breath in a Shell, blowne by a straw, fired with a frowne, reuiued by a smile, and ruin'd by an neglect, a stately and constant building that breath can destroy, that looke can esta­blish, or the least of dislike sacke.

In this fury shee would haue persisted, but this Troope had beene, and were Louers, wherefore they went to her, who seem'd like a moouing, or stirring water-worke: she turn'd to them, and from them againe, shee cryd, and groan'd, then scornfully seem'd to defie passion, and with a faint for­ged countenance would haue appeared sociable. No greater diuersity is there in womens dispositions, (who are richer in that vanity then men) then she had in her selfe, so as good women might hope all the superfluous vanity of that sexe had beene collected, and setled by vncertainty in her. The Queene of Naples intreated Perissus to speake to her, he did so, she answr'ed iust like her demeanour, at last the Queenes drew neerer to her, and deman­ding some questions of her, she answer'd them thus. I am said shee a Gen­tlewoman, though vngently vsed by Loue, my name not worthy of Know­ledge, my estate ouerthrowne by mifortune, my friends not to be named as being vnfit to consanguinate with miserie, and indeed, such a wretched for­lorne soule as I am, onely the shaddow of that, kind men most contemne, but for their owne sakes, and necescities sometimes respect. I haue most of my time beene among those of highest ranke, but meanest requitall, else I had not thus suffered; I am a cast-downe-wretch, not worthy of life, or your presence, let me then on these reasons petition departure, you shall be noble in granting, and I happy in being permitted my owne course.

Limena well liked this odd manner in her, and would not licence her to be freed from them, but desired to heare more; for, said shee, I haue beene as you are afflicted, and neuer felt more felicitie then in discoursing my woes, besides, I see you are apt to discouer your passions to these places, why not then as well to vs, who are, and euer will be sensible of passion? She lookd vpon her, and with a noise betweene sighing, and long breathing scorning directly to sigh, she answered her, that shee should haue what shee sought. Then said the Queene, I desire to know your losse, your despiser, aud yet di­slike. It is this said she, I loued a Gentleman, who was brother to the Dutches I seru'd, hee loued me, and swore it, (perfidious man) I belieued him, and granted what he asked; he made of me as we doe of the best fortunes, and was contented with nothing so much as with my Loue, nor did I ioy, or indeed glory, in any thing but his affection: this vndid mee, and I a poore yeelded creature, and spoiled by him, remaind the poore Trophy of his vi­ctory, and my losse. I sought yet long time, after I writ to him both in Verse [Page 418] and prose, but alike to his vnderstanding, and alike taken and receiu'd. Hee remembred my kindnesses and thank'd me, but yet rewarded them no fur­ther, like a King that takes a Present and likes it, but thinks it was his Sub­iects due to present it, and so meanes not to reward the bringer, scarse the giuer: no more did he, for I was both giuer, and bringer, and yet as one cast off, and forlorne. I vrg [...]d Faith, and constancy, hee confest it with faire words, but alas, his rewards were miserable and dry. I then after a long and most laborious suit and toyle to winne, or rather keepe but part what I once had had, recouer'd not so much as dammages, but all lay still on me. I then writ some Verses to him, which I haue in memory, hauing made them vpon the subiect of many vnhappy Women, but bringing them all to my sadd e­state, the Verses are long and teadious, therefore if you please, I will let them passe, and continue my discourse. Nay I pray (said the Queene) let vs haue them, and the story too, we haue time enough for both, and no time being able to be better spent, we can affoord the euening into the bargaine, rather then misse such a relation. Then Madam, said shee, when I saw no merit, no loue, no remembrance, nor any thing could worke against a newe choice which he had made, I framd these lines as my last peece, resoluing if they preuailed not to let all goe, and fall to the resolution, or indeed, more properly, distraction I am now in, the Lines be these.

What bands had you to tye you thus much, said the Queene of Naples? bands of faith in me, and vowes from him of zealous truth said she, priuately made to me, and for greater satisfaction giuen before witnesses for marriage, which made me (foolish, & confident) trust, & yeeld, & now wander, lament, and pine. The Queenes pittied her, and promised their helps to assist her. She thank'd them, but answerd, none but loue had iniur'd her, and [...]on [...] els could, or should helpe her: so she as strangely went on, and from them as wildly she had come to them, they returning home, she walking & breathing in distem­bers. At last resoluing to go to Pamphilia, offer her seruice to the Queen, who euer from her iufancy lou'd and trusted her, & was hindred from her compa­ny, & attendance; by reason, or rather this folly in affection which had power to make her dissist from all resolutions how fit or worthy, to please that, the most vaine, and troublesome of any. Now she could discerne her errour, but how? as if she lookt into a glasse, and behinde her saw her miserie, which to her face abusd her: so her passed time had wrong [...]d her, neuer to be righted or cleered, if not by death, forgetfulnes, or charity. The Queen Pamphilia re­ceiued her with all kindnes, & with her she liud as in her former daies in much respect, and vs'd with all courtesie, the better being ioyned, and more accep­table, because neerest agreeing with her passions, and miseries, as shee calld them, and indeed were, for none can be compared to forsaken loue.

Nerena was left in miserable state, imprison'd in a Towre, locked vp in conceit of maddnesse, and made a poore, imagined distracted creature [Page 421] where she was absolute Princesse; little Iustice was in this, yet she as a woman must suffer, although in time be released, as shee at last was, and now is the houre come for her safety. Her Sister, as you heard, went to try the Inchant­ment, in her absence, desire of change, and so hope of liberty (as most times is gain'd in absence of the Prince) grew among the people, but most lay in the breast of a noble man, whose conscience, one may well say, slept qui­etly from troubling his businesse till now hee had awaked it, protesting that the wrong done to Nerena concern'd them all, and lay alike, to his imagi­nation, in their hearts as in his, which moou'd him to vrge restitution, and submission, with establishing her in her former gouernment, their latter Prin­cesse being but to succeed her Sister, and the iniury done to her who ought to reigne, besides, what follies did liue in her, more, and not as amply abounding as in the elder, & their rightful Lady; besides, as a woman, why should she not be permitted both her vanity, & the nature of her Sexe, their fidelity to their late Master was lost, their loyalty to Succession forgot, the oath to truth bro­ken, & they guilty to all foule. Treasons, hauing deposd their Princess, and e­stablished another, whose merit were not far beyond their own Mistrisses, nor whose staid worth ought to claime too strickt an obedience, wher right chal­lenged the contrary. He was a great man welbeloued, infinitly followed, fea­red, & therfore cheerish'd, he swayed much, and so far proceeded, as hee with the rest of the Counsel, fetched Nerena forth, solemnly againe establish'd her had pardons for all things past, & all was made vp with a kind & gratious cō ­clusion, she by her poore liuing, and neglect being now inuested in so staid an habitation of grauity, as she was fit for the honour they recalld her to; her si­ster shee prouided for, but she returnd no more, but with a young Prince shee grew so enamourd of, although a married man, stole away & ended, so as her friends did desire all good people should forget her, or that she neuer had bin; thus may you see that none can run so far that shall not haue some time to re­turne, nor any how much soeuer condemn'd but may liue to be fit of commi­seration, and respect; this was verified in her, & she deserud their due restoring her proouing an excellent Gouerness, and braue Lady, being able to ouerrule her old passions, & by thē to iudge how to fauor, licence, & curb others, & this exp [...]rience, though late, is most profitable to Princes. Amphilanthus with the braue, & once hating, now louing Ladies, comming to Negropont, were by Do­lorindus & Antissia infinitly welcom'd and feasted, yet Antissia was not well­plesed, for although she had directly lost the loue she most prized, yet somuch she lou'd him stll, as she was sorry he should do amisse, which she did cōfes he did in leauing Pamphilia sor Musalina. Alas, said she, most excellent Lady did not I fortell your harme; yet I protest I am truly sorry for this, and wish I had said false, so you had still beene bless'd, it was not my fortune to be happy in what I most sought, yet wish I you had inioyed what your worth and con­stancy had merited; no enuy I beare to you, nor euer did, but to my dest [...]ny which would not fauor me. Of purpose shee would vrge discourse of her, which the Empe [...]or tooke wel enough, and was contented so far with it, as to think of her, and at last resolu'd to see her; but one day walking alone in a de­licate walk of Birches, set by art vpon the top of a hil, both sides being sowed with wheat. Haruest not yet being come, though the corn ripe for it, hee be­held the euen & perfect growing of them. [Page 422] Can we (said he) possibly be as euen in our owne brests to truth as these things which are sowed, or set by our hands? No, and for our shame our own works, must wittnesse against vs; for, I confesse, I haue done amisse, and a­gainst her, deserued best of me for loue, and constancy, and yet none haue I payed with so much neglect, I am faulty, but I will mend, and she I hope wil pardon. Sweet Corne (said he) when the wind stirrs, how doe your heads bend humbly that way you are blowne? how euenly, equally, and patient­ly hath she borne my neglects? I will giue satisfaction, and she shall bee re­quited. As he walked thus, he heard a Ladd pipe meerily, on a Pipe he had made of one of the stalkes of Oates, not farre off growing; he stayd to heare him, and when he thought he had done, went toward him, desiring to heare some thing; which, though low in respect of his vnderstāding, yet would now be pleasing to his passions, as he drew neerer to him, he heard him vse these words. Loue, since thou art thus gratefull, be thou euer blessed, I now am sorry I did call thee ill, I doe repent that I did thinke thou hadst beene way­ward or vngratefull: all is passd, and I doe pardon craue. Ile sing vnto thy praise, as I did cry agaiust thee; Ile make songs, in thy honour, as I did in reuiling thee; Ile sweare thou art alone worthy, and fit to be honour [...]d, as I lately vow'd thou wert the onely Serpent, and hatefull humor to be cheeri­shed: If humble submission can merit fauour, I will gaine it of thee; if not punish me aud spare not, for I must, and doe confesse I am guilty, and deserue more ill then thy noblenesse will inflict on any, giue me my freedome from thy fauours, and I wil euer be thy vassell for it. Then tooke he vp his sling & walked a litle farther, that being his weapon to defend himself, and to molest the Birds or other enemies to his charge in that delicat Corne. Amphilanthus thus followed a farre off, as hope doth despairing Louers: when he saw him sit downe againe, and take vp his Pipe, then againe proceede in his commen­dations of Loue, and then sing. The Emperour liked that humor well, wishing he might haue the like cause to praise that passion; vpon which hee was pleased to make most excellent [...] Verses, and then return'd to the Court. Musalina and Lucenia whose humble submission had gain'd pardon and loue in some kinde had them, as they had most he had written, but still his minde ran on his iourney, not doubting of his welcome, yet knowing his fault wish­ed the first encounter passed. Musalina took her leaue to returne into Romania, much sorrow was for parting, but those things are so vsuall, as the relation were like telling a tale so often till all eares were tyred with it. Musalina in her iourney had as many seuerall thoughts as loue could bring forth; some­times suspition came, then anger, and reuenge followed, yet these were salued againe with hope, and trust; She was grown likewise a Poet as being a neces­sary thing, and as vnseparable from a witty louer as loue from youth: When she arriu'd at home, the poore trees felt the cruelty which she said was inflict­ed on her; sad rimes came often into her thoughts, some of her own, others of Amphilanthus his making on parting, and of diuers others, contenting her selfe, or rather forcing content to be shewed, when no remedy was, her loue being gone, and which was worse in a kinde neuer to returne, which gaue forme to these lines following a great drought being in that Country, and e­uery one wishing for raine.

Many times she would goe to the solitary woods, and grieue there freely crying out her woes; but all return'd alike to her for gaine or reward; for how can helpe be now expected? only absence will assist, and that at last in this distrest Lady preuailed, wherein she was happy, though many sad daies and nights passed before the cure could be wrought, Time being for this dis­ease the best Phisition. Amphilanthus tooke his way towards Pamphilia, taking with him only twelue Knights, whom hee chose, and his and their Squires; them he inioyned not to disclose him, nor cal him any other then the Iust in hope: Pamphilia, not hoping for any redresse, was one day in cer­taine walkes with her ancient friend, and seruant the Lady, who the Queenes met in such di [...]order for loue, and was the same Lady that was so pleasant with Steriamus when he was passionate for Pamphilia, she was called Dorili­na, then who there was not a discreeter, though a true louer. As they wal­ked, discoursing of their loues and torments for it, Dorolina besought the Queene to honour her with the repeating of some of her verses. Shee an­swer'd, she was growne weary of rime, and all things but that which weari­ed her life; and yet for cruelties sake would not take it. Shee would not bee answer'd so, but vrg'd her againe, hoping to take her this way something from her conrinuall passions, which not vtter'd did weare her spirits and waste them, as rich imbroyderies will spoyle one another, if laid without papers betweene them, fretting each other, as her thoughts and imaginati­ons did her rich and incomprable minde: but as yet Dorolina could not pre­uaile for the part of Poetry; yet she gain'd so much, as Pamphilia sate downe and told her this tale, faigning it to be written in a French Story.

There was, said she, in France for many years, many Kings, that Country being diuided into seuerall Kingdomes; seuerall Nations there were likewise which spake different languages, some of these had Kings, the others onely Princes; but in successe of time, all came happily vnder the rule and gouern­ment of one King, care onely had then by marriages to make a perpetuall vnion, which onely length of time could doe: among these marriages there was one, from which grew both good, and ill, a braue young Lord of the Ile of France, second sonne to a famous Nobleman, and one who had great imployment vnder the King, being counted the brauest man of the King­dome, was by the meanes of a brother in Law of his, married to a great Heyre in little Brittany, of rich possessions. This Lady was wooed & sought by many, one she affected and so much loued, as she was contented to thinke [Page 424] him worthy to be her husband, and so for worth, hee was. Miserably hard her father kept her, and close; yet so much liberty she gain'd, as she had al­most tyed her selfe neuer but by death to be released; yet her fortunes were not meant thus to be disposed of; for her father dying, and she thinking she was a little, or much neglected by her first seruant, who came not accor­ding to appointment to attend her, she chang'd her minde, and gaue her selfe to valiant & louely Bersindor the Frenchman, leauing the other, as he had her at home to learne better breeding. Into France she came, where she was by Bersindors father and mother cherished with all affection, and loue; her hus­band kinde, and as respectiue as she merited, many faire and sweet children they had to their comforts and their friends, and so bred they were, as all companies coueted their presence, being like sweet delights to sad eyes. The eldest daughter was called Lindamira, shee was so much fauour'd by the Queene of France, as by no meanes she must be absent frō the Court, which indeed was the fittest place for her, being a Lady of great spirit, excellent qualities, and beautifull enough to make many in loue with her; but shee lo­ued onely one, and that one she had loued many years before any mistrusted it, or himselfe knew it. Hee was likewise fauoured by the Queene Mother, whose husband dead, had leysure to bestow her eyes vpon the loueliest ob­iect, and this Lord was well enough contented, spending his time after his owne desire. Lindamira serued th [...] Queene faithfully, and so affectionately, as she had no loue but them two of either Sexe; yet was she carefull to giue no dislike to her mistris, whom she would not iniure, or indeed at that time her selfe, for she was married, he not thinking that it was himselfe she loued, though he knew she was somewhere bound in those fetters. A carefull eye he carried ouer her, not that it appear'd he loued her much more then as her deserts, which her noble and free carriage deserued; yet he was desirous to finde her loue. Once he thought it was the husband of a Lady, she had made her chosen friend; but after he found the contrary, to his owne com­fort; for the Queene, how well assur'd soeuer she was, or rather might haue beene of her fidelity; yet loue she knew had commanded her, who borne a Princesse, and match'd to a King, yet could not resist his power, might with greater ease soueraignize ouer a subiect: but in Loues Court all are fellow-subiects; and thus her Maiesty was deceiued in her greatnesse, which could not, as she thought, be subiect: and therefore, though others must be Vassals when they are all companions aud serue alike. This suspition was first put into her minde by a malicious Lady, who enuyed sweet Lindamira; but so was it beleeued and follow'd by the Queen, as all her fauour was withdrawn as suddenly and directly, as if neuer had: Lindamira remaining like one in a gay Masque, the night pass'd, they are in their old clothes againe, and no ap­pearance of what was; she yet was grieued to the heart because she truly lou'd her mistris, as her disgrace went further then only discontent for the losse, or the note the world might take of it, which must like their reports be wiped away, or washed like linnen, which would bee as white againe as euer. But these pierced her heart, and she was inly afflicted, at all times shee neuerthe­lesse attended, neuer failing her duty, yet desirous to know the cause of this her misfortune: She imploy'd many to moue the Queene, only to know why she was offend [...]d, that if she were guilty she might aske forgiuensse, and make humble submission, but this would not serue, she poore Lady ignorant of the [Page 425] cause, desired the Lord for whom she suffer'd to doe the like for her; hee did, but return'd as the others did to her, telling her the Queenes answer was, that she should not know the cause, therfore willed her to be satisfied with that, & with knowledge that she was, and had iust cause to bee off [...]nded. Lindamira then asked leaue to retire, she had permission, and withall her Maiesty, when she gaue her her hand to kisse (which fauour she was contented to allow her) she told her she should doe well to stay till she was sent for. She humbly, & with teares in her eyes answer'd she would obey, and so shee departed going home, and soon after with a husband like her last fortune, went to liue with him, whither soone came all her friends to visite her, and by him were nobly entertain'd. The Lord, whom she so much lo [...]ed, and was accused for, like­wise came with that Lady her deare friend: among many discourses they fell vpon this of her disgrace; Lindamira saying, that the thing it selfe did not now so much afflict her, as the ignorance of it: None (said he) that dares tell you the cause, knowes it, and some that do, dare not. What should feare them said she? if mistrust of my secresie, I will giue them cause to take away that suspition of weaknes in me, other reason I cannot guess [...]: if I should goe fur­ther, said he, you might imagine me one could tell. I am verily p [...]rswaded of that, said she. But I feare your displeasure, said he. Why (said Lindamira) con­cerning none but poore me, how can any thing trouble you? It may be, said he, it toucheth others, and so much as yo [...] will hate them for suffering for them. I haue no reason for that, said shee, though it may be I shall bee angry with my selfe for giuing cause. Then (said he) with your pardon, I will tell you that, I am inioyned not to let you of any know, to secrecie I will not binde you, for the businesse it selfe hath power to doe that, wherewith the friend Lady rose, and he proceeding told her all that had passed, but now (said he) I feare you will hate me for this. Pardon me my Lord, answer'd she, I am onely sorry that you should suffer for me, so vnworthy of your fa­uour, but for being offended, I protest I loue her displeasure, since shee hath honour'd me with this worthy opinion, rather then I lou'd her greatest grace, & more noble is my fall, then my time of fauor was, he did not it seemed lose that opportunity, nor was she nice to let him know her long loue, expressions of it, and embracing affections wanted of neither side; what happines this was to sweet Lindamira that constant woman, if such an other there be who lou'd fiue years vndiscouer'd, & then on such an vnlook'd for occasion reuealed so great a secret, may iudge, this shewed a strange happines to befal them, that a iealous woman whose doubt of losse brought her losing & Lindamira's gain: thus you may see the effects of that base humor: but alas, what succeeded all this? your fortune, deare Dorilena, and mine, for after she had lost the Queens fauour, indured an vnquiet life, & miserable crosses from her husband pos­sessed with like, or more furious madnes in iealousie, her honor not touched, but cast downe, and laid open to all mens toungs and eares, to be vsed as they pleas'd. Lastly, after fou [...]teen years vnchang'd affection, she cast her off con­temptuously and scornfully, she complain'd, which complaint, because I lik'd it, or rather found her estate so neere agree with mine, I put into Sonnets, this course I might call vngratefulnesse in him, and giue all ill names to it; but I will with the story conclude my rage against him; for thus the Booke leaues her, the complaint is this diuided into seauen Sonnets.

[Page 429] Dorelina admired these Sonnets, and the story, which shee thought was some thing more exactly related then a fixion, yet her discretion taught her to be no Inquisitor, so home againe they went, the Queene giuing order the next day to hunt a Stag, but she was hindred from that by vnlookt for news, which was, that the young and proud King of Celicia, being her neighbour, her Wooer, and refused by her, would not as it seemd endure the scorne, or goe without her, wherefore he with an inuincible Army, was come neare the confines of her Country, by force to win, what he could not by loue, or faire meanes gaine. But how much was he deceiued in this? for force must not preuaile against such a spirit, if not to bring death for hate, but no affecti­on or submission, threats can worke with her no more, then to command men to giue resistance. Into a strong Fort by the Sea-side she put her selfe, one Army attending her, another sent to encounter him, led by Melysander. Her Counsell admired her magnamity, she was no more troubled, then if no such thing were, nor could any thing but vnkindnesse, nor from any but him much molest her. She dispatched a Messenger to her father for aide, another to Mi­telin, and all her friends that were within compasse of helping sudden­ly; for sudden was the matter, thoughts of loue for all this had their place, as wishes that Amphilanthus would come, but as much was that wish to see him as for helpe, though she was confident to haue had victory by his presence.

ONE of the Messengers lighted vpon his ship as he came from Negropont, relating the newes; haste was then made to the succour, but still he must be vnknowne. At his landing hee met some people sad, and their counte­nances telling some misfortune; he was loth to aske, till one of his company desirous to know, and perceiuing the Emperour wished the knowledge, yet would not aske, demanded the businesse; answere was made, that the first Army was ouercome, the Duke Melisander taken prisoner, and the King marched with all speed towards the other Army, and Pamphilia: Alas Sir (said he) if you saw how our poore Country is already spoiled, defaced, and ruined, where the Army passeth, it would grieue your hearts, and most, that the wofullest end of warre is likely to happen; for the other Army are all young men, who though bold and valiant, yet raw and vnexperienced; tis to be doubted, the Queene will fall by this ill fortune into the Kings hands, wanting all forraine aide: for could her Brothers, or Cosins know of it, and but some of them here, we should not feare. Why is the warre, said Amphi­lanthus? Because our Queene will not marry the King. What is her reason, said the Emperour? Want of loue in her, replide he; and as it is belieued by most, and is the generall opinion, her affections being placed on some other, but who it is, we are ignorant of, yet would he were here; for surely she can­not loue but worthily, and so like her most worthy selfe. Amphilanthus was glad of this, and so got him to guide them to the Army, where they were wel receiued, as all shall be on such a necessitie in time of warre, if they come to helpe and succour.

The King of Celicia puffed vp with pride for this Victory, came on with speede and ioy, till he came within sight of the Army: Amphilanthus percei­uing that, and hauing discouerd himselfe onely to the Counsell and Com­manders, sent forth a Drum to desire a parly: it was granted, then went forth one of purpose chosen by the Emperour to deliuer this message, that since the King had already obtained the Victory ouer one Army, to the great hurt of that Country, he desired to haue as his own, out of that respect, and no other [Page 432] it was fit as they held it to of [...]er him this (not chalenge) but humble intreaty to encounter in person one single man of the Qu. side, who shuld be in birth, honor, & al other dignities, fit to wait vpon him, and brauely before the wall to fight with him, who if he ouercame, he should haue the Queen deliuerd to him; if not, he and his army should depart as they came, hauing had enough in the bloods of so many braue men, and true subiects, al which might haue bin his, if this offer had bin time enough made, the rest now spared if accepted. The king, whose own pride could not wish a more respectiue challenge, an­swerd, that he desird to know the man should meet him. The messenger an­swerd, that his name was conseald frō most, and was known by no other, then the Iust in Hope. The king replied, that he must know more, or he might, and would be excusd from ventring his roial person against one nameles man: the messenger then [...]ist a little paper, & deliuerd it, wherin he found a plainer cha­lenge, but as nobly curteous, and therto the Emperors own most honord and feared name. The king took it wel, and was glad he should (as he told the mes­senger) cōbat with him in the sight of his Lady, both for the honor he should gaine in ouercomming Amphilanthus, and that he was assured he was the only obstacle in his way; for these two reasons he would fight with him with hope of conquest; the houre should be left to him, if he pleasd, or as being his due to chuse. In the morning following, about nine of the clock, the messenger returnd with much comfort to Amphilanthus, who now had another, and the best part of the busines to doe, which was, whether she would consent, that her giuing or freeing should be left to his fortune in the combat, how to com­pas this, he doubted the accomplishing, and feared infinitely how shee would take the bold offer, which had bin made without her knowledge; at last he did resolue, that he would aduenture, and so with the Counsell entred the Castle where she was; but thus he orderd it, that they should moue it to her, & haue her resolution, as if yet it had not bin determined. Amphilanthus this while should stand where he might heare al, & when he pleased, to shew himselfe. Thus it hapned, they came to the Queen, where she was in the Gallery vnder a Cloth of Estate, sitting as sadly, as her fortunes told her it was fit for her; yet of all fortunes, his losse was the greatest. When she saw them, she smild, and askt how matters went: they told her the worst, because she should agree to their desire. If that happen, said she, I shall be sorry to leaue you in danger, to whose loues and respects I am so much bound, nor is there need of that, since peace may be made for you, but none for me, on such conditions as he offers; for neuer wil I be vniust vnto my former vow, nor to my selfe, and such as wil go with me, shalbe vsd no worse then my selfe. They humbly thankt her, but protested, that no other fortunes should satisfie them, then her seruice & at­tendance; yet was there a way, they said, how she might saue her self, free her realm & them from ruin. She repli'd, such a course she would with al willing­nes vndertake; then they told her their opinion, naming the Champion only by his framed name: if (said she) my brothers were here, or either of the kings of Albania, I might put my fortunes in any of their hands: but alas what speak I of that, I merit such a happines. Could no other please you, said they? with that she sigh'd, Yes God knows, said she, blushing, & turning her self frō them. They went on; how if Amphilanthus, said they, were here? If he, said she, were here, there were no question, but life, estate, & al might be put into his hands: but this I protest truly and sincerely, that I had rather perish, then bee the [Page 433] cause of the losse, or danger of the losse of one drop of his blood, or of my brothers, so much I loue, and respect them. With that Amphilanthus step'd out, and presenting him selfe to her, told her that while he had blood, and life they should serue her. She was amazed, surprized, with ioy and feare, blush'd, and looked pale, passion working so in her as she could not tell how to looke, how to speake, or expresse the blessed comfort possessed her. Heauen-like ioy to her it was to see him, Death-like smart so to see him to his danger, her heart bled to thinke that hee might bleed in her quarrell, and yet his quarrell caused in loue, had withered hers with sorrow, till now refreshed with this balme, like a body furnished by the perfectnes of a sound Liuer with blood, and so life; He was troubled with her countenance, least it had beene out of offence taken against him, when God knowes it was but the violence of her passion, which when happy or crossed, could neuer suf­fer her to vtter it selfe. She could imagine what to say, and resolue of it, but neuer could when time was offered to performe it, timorousnes ruling in her towards him, when ouer all others she could soueraignize: diuers the sorts, diuers the passages, and geuernments of loue. Hee tooke her by the hand, shee affectionately beheld him, at last telling him that shee would ra­ther petition him to let any end befal her, (but yeelding to As [...]rusius) rather then he should venture his life for her deliuerie.

Hee said there was not in the world, next her selfe that hee respected more, or in any degree of comparison with her liberty, and pleasure, there­fore she might assure her selfe, that her honor, and safety should command his life, which could neuer be so well imployed as in seruing her. They then together sate vnder the cloath of State, shee beholding him with as greedy eyes, as one at the last doth the Hauen in a terrible storme, driuing from that whither they desired to goe, and well could she in her mind haue consented to haue dyed in that blessednes. He as louingly beheld her, and thought hee saw her former beauty lately decayed renuing as his fauour was to, and in her againe. Thus they were till supper, which being past she conducted him to a delicate chamber, where he lodged all night, resting well till time was for his going to the field; the excellent Lady lay all that darke time like one wrapd into the third Heauen, her soule only working, she knew not how to beare her ioy accusing prosperity, for being more vnsupportable then afflic­tion, a Feauer of contentment held her in a fit without intermission, and thus she remained till day, or her care of him, or thoughts, or ioy, or altogether called her vp, and so she appareld her selfe to be ready to blesse her eyes with his sight before he went forth, for no suite, perswasion, or any petiti­on of hers could diswade him from the combate, telling her at last that hee must doubt by her importunity, and feare shee seem'd to haue of him, that her opinion of his worth or vallour was deminished. She was then for­ced to be patient, and all her refuge was to her teares and prayers for his de­liuery, and safety, he is determined to vanquish, the other opinionated to haue the victory, the honour, and the Queene, both are now ready to try it out, Pamphilia attending her Knight to his horse, her soule wayting on him with all her strengrh of spirit, and good to assist him, so as thus hee that nee­ded no helpe, had two spirits ioyned together in and against one, and one of them maliciously bent against him and perfect loue, bound to his ruine; [Page 434] Vrania, Philistella, Steriamus and Selarinus, on their way in Epirus met a dain­ty troope of Ladyes, and Knights in a Meddow, the Knights to passe away time till they met the Kings, and Queenes which was the cause of their iourney, had found out a pretty pastime to please their Mistrisses withall; vn­armed, only with the Launce they were to take a ring of gold which was hung to a staffe, and which side (hauing deuided themselues into the num­ber of twelue, and twelue) did oftnest take the ring, was to win a Iewell which the Ladyes was to giue, and then the whole side that had wonne the prize must run sixe courses a peece, and which Knight of [...]nest tooke it, was to haue the Iewell free to himselfe, the Ladyes to draw lots who should pay for it, and shee that lost it was to accept the winning Knight for her Seruant.

It was agreed on by all, as contented, till the lots being to be drawne, and the chance lighted, the Lady who was to loose or winne, grew into an infi­nite rage, cursing Desteny, reuiling the blind Lady Fortune, crying out a­gainst vniust lucke [...] and rayling at all men, and mankind: in that chafing at her selfe as furiously as at any other thing; Vrania was desirous to know the cause of this her dislike and fury. May it please your Maiesty said she, I should hold it, an vndeserued fauour receiued from you, to be let alone to my pas­sions, and not forced to relate that which must be most displeasing to mine owne eares, and as harsh as my lucke hath beene cruell, yet if there bee no remedy, I wil not disobay you, although I desire that my story may bee re­hearsed but to your selfe, and our Queene your sister. This was agreed on while the Kings went to see horses ridden, and to ride themselues, the Lady then tould her discontents thus.

This Knight whom I haue now by Fortune giuen mee, I haue many yeares since giuen my selfe, I meane my best, and truest affections vnto; hee did so amorously, and with such iust, and euen loue receiue me, as I cannot tell whither of vs loued most though I knew I louest as much, and feruently as any woman; expressions I could make of his deernesse to me, and mine to him, were it not for feare of seeming too vaine, and boasting of my happi­nes, therefore I will with your permission ouerpasse them, and follow the high way to my misfortune. Hee loued a farr greater Lady then my selfe, when I aspired to winne him, I preuailed, & she grew infinitely despised, but I was blessed, and with little pitty at last compassion beheld her, though with much respect, ioying to thinke I had cōpass'd my desires, & crossed my Riuall, after this had cōtinued some time, & I thought I saw my selfe cheife, how was I ioyed, and how triumphed I in my victory? but then as a braue Hauke hauing seazed the prey after a delicate flight is taken off from it, as if she gained but for another: so did I but get him from another, and to ano­ther must leaue him; yet held I chiefe a while, and thought I had got a pre­ferment in being the Lady, his respects were shewed vnto, the rest but as I had been second, and to receiue fauours by stealth, which are surest, and hear­tilest giuen from the soule, as I too well know, which grieued mee to see any other haue; but I was to be patient, and obedient, loue taught me obseruance, this was an affliction, but nothing to that which followed, for then hee fell in loue againe with one, to whom either his affection so subiected him, or her peremtorie power abased him, as he quite left me, and looked vpon me, if by [Page 435] chance I came in his way like a Iudge on a Thiefe, or offender, sternly and curstly: I melted with sorrow, I pined and starued with vnkindnesse; but all this preuailed not, I then gaue Hope quite ouer, and embraced Despaire, and with much adoe got quiet in vnq [...]ietnesse. Into the Country I retyrd, lea­uing the braue City, resoluing neuer to see Court or company more: but one time a neare Kinsman of his, and one most inward with him came to my house where I dwelt, I bid him welcome after my old manner, but hee found sadnesse in me suteable to my state, he disliked it not, yet after supper sought to perswade me from such melancholly, and retirednesse, which (he said) was not onely hurtfull to me, but to my honour, the world speaking, and guessing strangely about it. What is that to me, said I? Is it not as fit the world should see my sorrow for my losse, as my content for enioying? I neuer was sparing to manifest the one, I will not bee ashamed, or afraid to suffer for the other with as much confidence as sorrow (which truly felt) will licence me. He said refraining the Towne and my Parents would bee too meane a part for mee, therefore it were much better and nobler to shew it, if I desired that, then to sit at home, as if I would couer it, for thus my brauery in bearing appeared not.

I finding him presse me so farre, began to draw so neere to hope, as to thinke it might be he was set on; then my thought I saw he had commission, and heard directly the words of my loue deliuerd by him as a Bird taught, re­peating his lesson; yet I dissembled a while, till so long we had discoursed, as I was forced to discouer my conceit, which thus I did. If (said I) these speech­es haue proceeded only from your well-wishes to mee, I must be sorry for them, since they tie me in a stricter band, then I willingly would bee oblieged in my merits, or power, being so small, as I shall alwaies be forced to remaine indebted for it, and so much, as I shall not hope to be able to pay the due; but if they come from another, fauour me so much to let me vnderstand whence they are, that I may make my resolutions according. He that had not bin nice to declare what concerned me, especially if good, plainely told me, that hee could not be iust in this to vs both; yet because he would begin, as he wished the succeeding might be happy; therefore Madam (said he) I was comman­ded by my friend, and Cosin to perswade you to come vp, and he will if you please, to accept of his seruice deserue by loue to be yours againe. May I be­lieue this, cryd I? as you will belieue any thing spoken by your truest friend and seruant. I gaue credit to him, and with him as onely to visit my Pa­rents, and taking the opportunitie of hauing his company went to the Ci­tie; as soone as I came to my fathers house, I saw a well knowne ser­uant of the Knights I loued, I felt instantly my blood euen spring in my breast, as warming mee with hope, and almost ioy, soone after he came, and supped there, carrying so fine, and curteous a fashion to me as might haue wonne a new heart, but mine was his before, and if euer I was sorrie it was bestowed, it was at that time when my thought he deser­ued the noblest, and best heart to bee giuen him for that gentle returne of loue, which as my onely content and hoped for blessing I most wil­linglie embraced; then did I forget not onely all my [...]orrowes before, and my paine, but was an new creature made of ioy. All perceiued the al­teration, and ioyed with mee, some seeing the caus [...], others that knew [Page 436] not the first chance admired me, and grew merry at my pleasures, but long had not they this cause of mirth, nor I the happines, for after a confident and setled beliefe of his constancy, not then euer to remoue, he grew a little slacke again, & by degrees, as one that dies with bleeding, looseth the outward sense of sight, & so by little & little growes to death: so did his fauors to my death of parting with thē. I finding this, grew to my late estate again and sorrowed, at last fell sick, in which sicknes he came vnto me, I then spake some thing to him, not so freely I confesse, as I thought to haue done, but so much as hee I saw vnderstood me sufficiently, but so coldly he answered me, his fashion be­ing so different from loue, as if he had but heard a tale, not the truth, nor so much as looking on me like the complainer, or suter. At last he said, that I should haue no cause to doubt him. I made my selfe (for all mine owne eies & iudgement stroue against me) belieue he meant iustly, which indeed I can­not say he then did, but after proued it true, for he tooke away all doubt, and gaue me certaine knowledge, but of what? alas my perpetuall misery; for such a stranger he grew, as hee seemd either ashamd to know mee, or disdaind the knowledge of me. One day I found him with his loue, I comming to visit her, Lord what a poore salutation he gaue me, yet at last as I was going away hee spake to mee, taking occasion of doing something neare the place, where I stood. I answerd him, but thought I to my selfe, am I, or must I euer be the Vicar of the Empire to his loue, neuer enioying but in a second place, vnlesse the first be gone, and then in the interim raigne, but by a new creation fall to my old place againe? These and some other open disgraces truly changed my heart, or wrought so much in me, as I grew to loue lesse, then not to loue, and now am come to be more careles of him, and faine almost would shun him, yet I cannot directly do that, though I hate the fortune I am fallen into, and this is the cause I am vext with hauing this Lot. Vrania and Philistella pi­tied her, especially when she cryd; Alas, said she, why was loue so cruell, or ra­ther to clothe loue in such cruelty, as to giue hope of purpose to ruine? as if one would giue a delicate banket, and poyson the Guests when he had done; els might hee haue left mee despaire for charities sake, and not luld me with hope to martyr me againe. The Queenes perswaded much with her, and so at last she was pacified so farre, as to giue him the Iewel, and accept the name of his Mistrisse, as other faire Ladies doe the like name; further, their friend­ships increased not so long as this story lasted.

Philistella was left heere with her deare Selarinus, shee being crowned with all solemnitie, as hee had been before. Steriamus and his Vrania iour­nied on to their Kingdome, where likewise shee was crowned, and liued the rest of their dayes in all happinesse and ioy: the like did Selarinus and Phili­stella.

Antissius and Selarina in their voyage by Sea, meta fine Aduenture in a sweet and dainty Iland, where they staid, the Queeue not well brooking the S [...]a, in which time they walked vp into the land, comming into a delicate Pallace, built curiously of white stone, a braue Riuer, or arme of the Sea run­ning a little on the other side of it, Gardens were round about it, or walkes, which made it appeare the Pallace of delight and much perfecter had it bin but the Lord of it was called by lifes concluder to obedience, dying, and leauing two sonnes, and one most faire Daughter, with his noble [Page 437] Lady, whose vertues were such as shinned in her for the honor of all other women, and examples to Maydes to liue Virgins, and wiues, and widdowes as she had done, and did. She met the King and Queene at the first Gate, be­ing enformed who they were, & with all reuerent respect welcommed them, attending them into the Gardens, shewing them the pleasures of them, and giuing them such fruits as that time yeelded, then waited on them into the house, which they admired for curiositie, sitting downe to rest them in a braue Gallery, which delighted them infinitely, by reason of the sweete pro­spect, which though not so far as others, yet was it as pleasing beeing able to iudge of what they beheld, which was one way delicate meadowes, and that great Riuer, beyond it fields, and hills, downe the Riuer an ancient, and fa­mous Citie, well built, and of many miles compasse; vp the Riuer pasture grounds and fine inclosures, thus were all sorts of delights round about, and in sight of this place, but the richest, and finest sight was the graue Widdow, the sweet youthes, and the excellent young Lady, whose perfections were such as no description can come neere, or any thing but admiration tell, whose fulnesse will not permit expression. Her stature was of the bra­uest, and best chosen height, her skinne (although her hayre was browne) white as milke, soft as downe, and fine as silke: her eyes black, as if mourning for the murders they would commit, yet so spritefull, as gaue comfort, and blessed content to him should bee honourd with their fauours, and hope of life to the dying, if they repented their ambition. She was sixteene yeares of age, but of such beauty as if each minute had bi [...] employd to fetch excellen­cies to her; a graue and braue fashion she had, which to strangers seemd pride, but to them that knew her true noblenes abounded in her, which they pub­lished, else she had bin vndeseruingly condemned. With the King there was a braue Lord, but somewhat in yeares exceeding her, he yet had a young and new desire to obtaine her, his worth would not seeke her, but as her worth warranted him, a strangers name hee feared would be distastfull, yet he was so neare a home borne man in affection, as that might speake for him; he was an experienced man, and therfore knew time the most pretious of any thing, wherefore he applyd himselfe vnto her.

Her fashion was discreet like herself, respectiue according to his owne hart, which was not the meanest, but such an one as might haue dwelt for noble­nes in a king, but being in him, made him a king for bounty. A Cosin-german shee had, who trauelling with this Lord, was so imped into the quills of his loue, as he was himselfe, and so wooed for him; she was confident of her Co­sins loue, and trusted his iudgement, & so receiued the Romanian, as on trust from him; he was in great fauour with the King, who spake for him, and of purpose stayed in that Island (belonging vnto his Crowne) till his seruant had gaind his desire, the weather so temperat and pleasing, as his Maiesty re­solued to stay there, and lodge in tents for pleasure, and the more commodi­ously to let his Fauourite court his Mistris, although the Lady most earnest­ly besought his gracing her house with lodging in it; but the delightful Island carryed him about to view it, and so left him to woe, and win if he could. In his Progres he met many fine aduentures, the Island being large, and plenti­full of all delicacies, but the king fel to sports, the Queene affected only prety delights, & none so violent as hunting; the house where they then kept court [Page 438] was a large and auncient house belonging to an Noble-man, built square of stone, standing rather vpon a flat then a Hill, for the highest of the ascents was scarce sencible. There ranne behind the Garden, and Orchard wall, a sweete Brooke, on each side whereof fine and enamiled Meadowes lay, shewing their finesses to each eye, in this place Selarina tooke delight, and heere walked, but she was with-drawne a little from the Brooke, and plaine, to a little hill, which had some few trees to grace it selfe withall, and helpe o­thers from the scorching heate; a voice to this place inuited her, whither be­ing arriued, she found two men in Shepheards weeds, their countenances spake for them, that they were not borne to that estate, yet their complexi­ons shewed that they had not beene curious to preserue them selues from the Sun, but followed their fortunes, or choyce, as men ought to doe any profession they take: they were not so young as it might bee said, they had want only taken that life, the ripnes of their yeares tooke away that suspition, for they were towards forty, so as iudgment to content them selues, or dis­content one might see had brought them to it; they were together when the Queene first saw them, but they seeing her soone parted, one as if flying company, the other remayning to yeeld account of his going. Selarina drew neere to the Shepheard, who with low reuerence welcomed her. She de­manded many things of him, he gaue her true, and witty satisfaction, at last she desired to know the cause of the Shepheards shunning her, hee answered that he did the like, when he discerned any company, being vrged vnto it by a violent melancholly, which would not permit him time for recreation, if any but himselfe came neere him. She asked the reason. He replyed that se­cret was his friends, and therefore besought pardon, if mine owne said he, I should be happy in hauing such royall eares to giue hearing to my story; she still vrged, & so much, as he was forced to obay. Then Madame said he, since your Maiestie will haue it, I must yeeld, one's Princesse hauing power to search all Subiects hearts. This man my companion, and my selfe, were sonns to two of the best men in this Island, he was called Sirelius, my selfe Procatus, we were bred together at Schoole first, after we went to the Court of your Lords Grandfather, where we liued, and in good reputation, hee meri [...]ing all mens good oppinions by his owne noblenes, and excellent parts, my selfe I thinke for his sake was respected, expecting something in me, who was friēd to so much worthines. At last he fell in loue with a young Lady, the only daughter of her father, & mother, a great marryage she was likely to be, but the true riches he sought, was her loue, answerable to his affections. She was very young, hauing so few yeares as her Parents were loath she should heare of a husband, yet at last his deserts, and store of friends brought the marriage about, and some honours were giuen to the father in requitall of his consent. The Lady grew on, and the time of marryage came, which was solemnized by the Kings command at the Court, where great tryumphs were, Masques and banquets, and such Court delights, neuer man with greater ioy receiued a wife, nor any woman expressed more comfort in a match; but where such violence is, seldome is their loue lasting, for within lesse then two yeares after the marryage, whether his fondnes ran to Icalousy, or her youth, and loue to change gaue occasion I dare not iudge, but discōtents grew, & disliks of all sides spread them selues, the father tooke part with the Son in law, the [Page 439] Mother with the Daughter; to that extremity this [...]lew, as no fire flamed or sparkled higher. Most mens eyes were vpon them, to see whither this would come, and for whom all this storme was raised; it was discouerd, that this stir was about a young Lord, who deseru'd alas not the least suspition for any goodnes, that for himselfe could inuite loue from any aboue a common creature, such an one he might purchase, or shee, because hee was a Lord take vpon trust to find more then promised, his pride was such, as he would loose rather then beg, his ignorance such, as none that had vnderstanding of worth would or could accept, his vncertainty such, as he was alwaies making loue, and his fortune such, as he was still refused, and his insolency requited with scorne; yet of this fine Gentleman my noble friend was mistrustfull, his wife I must confesse carrying a little too much respect to the other, and yet on my conscience it was more out of her spirit, that disdaind to be curbd, then ex­traordinary liking of him, and that often is seene, and proues the way to make truth of mistrust. He forbad him his house, and her his company, she refused to obay, if by chance shee might meete him. Her Cabinets hee broke open, threatned her seruants to make them confesse; letters he found, but only such as between friends might passe in complement, yet they appeared to iealousie to be amorous. He was so distemperd, as he vsed her ill; her father a phantasti­cal thing, vaine as Courtiers, rash as mad-men, & ignorant as women, would needs (out of folly, ill nature, and way wardnesse, which hee cald care of his honour, and his friends quiet) kill his daughter, and so cut off the blame, or spot, this her offence might lay vpon his noble bloud, as he termed it, which by any other men must with much curiositie haue been sought for, and as rarely found, as Pearles in ordinary Oysters: but what time chose he to exe­cute his fury in, but before her husband? whose loue though crackt, was not quite broken, nor so much crusht, but that hee held his hand, which with a Dagger was giuing her a cruel & vntimely end, yet a little scratch he gaue her iust on her hart, which otherwise had laine opē to the disgrace of an vnmerci­ful & vnworthy father. She cryd out, the husband held his wife, who poore Lady was ready to fall vnder the weight of vnkindnes and danger. It was a strange sight to behold a father incensed for a husbands sake against an onely child, & that husband to be the shield of her defence, from whom, if at al the wrong was to rise. This at last with much ado was appeased, & a seeming con­tent sprung out of these blusters among thē, the Lord left to his pride, wher­with he pufft himself vp, & was fild with it like a dropsie, or a blader blowne with wind: the quarrel was taken vp too between them, & easily might it be, for my friend could not by any meanes prouoke him to fight, chosing rather to giue satisfaction by oath, & promise neuer of seeing her more, & to be tide to any conditions, then drawing his sword. Matters thus pacified, God bles­sed them with a son and daughter, after which she died, leauing them as wit­nesses of her loue, and to speake for remembrance of her after her death. A widdower he continued long, his children bred with much care and affecti­on with the Grandfather; trauel he did both out of his own loue to it, and im­ployment from the State, but all this could not roote out the aptnesse of his disposition to loue, so as hee fell enamoured of a beautifull young Lady, daughter to a great Duke in Romania, whose perfections and yeares called at eyes to admire her, and his to be her Vassels. With much sute and meanes he [Page 440] Courted her, employing all his friends to his assistance of gayning her, shee was not allowed the greatest liberty, but affected it as much as any, shee saw how braue his former wife had liued, and in what liberall fashion she might also with him continue, these were sweete motiues to a great minde, and a low estate of meanes, where honour call'd for plenty to sup­ply what she was indued with. Her father was against it vehemently, and shut her vp; but these courses preuaile no more with a louer, then to increase loues force in fetters, as any Creature for keeping close, growes the more furious when libertie comes: and so did her loue grow to that heate, as wheras mild perswasions might at first haue beene acceptable, now nothing but marryage will content her, which so much gayned in my friends breast, as he vowed she should haue what his fortune would allow her, and himselfe a loyall and affectionate seruant and husband to her. This was agreed on, and they marryed with such ioy as none can expresse but louers, who meete with equall affections, and so liued sometime; but now three yeares being pass'd, the heate resonably cooled, other passions haue crept in like Mothes into good stuffe: and discontents haue risen, so as he hath left her attended on like her selfe, meanes to the height of his estate, and all things according to her owne mind, himselfe only retyring to lament his misfortune, liuing to out liue her loue as he feares, although I am confident of the contrary, & tooke his life likewise on me to diuert him if I could from this course, which I trust I shall doe, and haue preuailed thus far as he hath promised to weare this Summer out only in his sorrowes, and then to returne, but company he will not yet admit of, so as I feare when he come abroad againe, hee that before was the most absolute fine Courtier will be a new learner in that Art, but let it be as it will, so he come forth of these woods, and plaines, put on Court apparrell instead of this Sheephards coate, a scarfe for this Scrip, and a sword for this hooke, and I trust we shall be gallant once more, for my part I am tired with rurall mirth, and passionate ditties, I had rather heare a horse neigh, then all the Sheephardesses in this Island sing; quarr [...]lls haue also ri­sen in our absence as I heare, all which will breed ill blood if wee stay out, wherfore I pray for returne. The Queene smiled at this Story, thinking how fit it was to be compared to the graue Suter they had left at the Widdowes house, and how likely such a conclusion was to happen, which some sayes did afterwards fall out of their great discontents, but againe concluded with loue, and more loue then euer had beene before, at least in outward shew, so as these storyes may bee called one. Selerina left the Sheephard intreating him to vse his best meanes to comfort his friend, and to carry him backe to his wife, which she de [...]ired as a woman, and hee premised to performe. To the Court shee returned, meeting the King as hee came from hunting, to whome she related this discourse, Antissius knew them both, and resolued to cal them to the Court as soone as he return'd, for he had euer lou'd them, and then had employment for them. The Progresse ended he return'd againe to his first welcome, where he did find his amorous seruant a fortunate man, wanting nothing but his Maiesties presence for the whole consummation of his blessing, which was concluded by his marryage before the Kings going thence, he assisting at the wedding, and thus was he happy in hauing what he most coueted. To Constantinople the King and Queene soone after went, [Page 441] where Selarina was with all ioy, and ceremony by her deerest louing Antissi­us crowned Queene, liuing as happily as euer Queene did. Antissia, and L [...] ­cenia came, only to visit her, the other stayed, and attended her daily in the Court, being cheife of the Chamber. Parselius with his Dalinea, being got into their owne Country of Achaia, once more remembred the sweete, and pleasant time they at first inioyed, when Parselius grew a louer, and shee as passionate a receiuer of his affection; they called to minde many more passa­ges, as his sadnes, and parting, yet neither of them they stucke long vpon; the cause, one not desiring the remembrance since for that occasion, the o­ther for feare of offending let it passe, nothing appeered before them but con­tent, he striuing for nothing more then to please her, nor she ambitious of any thing more then his affection: both thus equally bent to loue, and satis­faction, happines must needs be the end. If she had a mind to goe abroad, he could neuer know cause to stay him from accompaning her; if hee liked any sport, or pleasure abroad that she chose to please her selfe withall, his desire was her will, and her will desire to serue him. Thus was loue obserued, and serued by these, who one day going into a greate Desart, after their manner in that Country to take delight, carrying Tents where places so desolate would not afford conueniencie or ciuill lodging, in a faire plaine the Pauil­lions were placed, hard by a wood, a dellicate brooke running before them, ouer which was only a ford but no bridge; there the Queene fished, while the King hunted. As she was at her sport, an ancient fine woman appeared on the other side smiling, and calling her by signes vnto her, the Queene was at first carlesse of her, but she still following right against her, calling as shee went with her Angle fit for the streame, shee at last marked her, and was so intised as she resolued to goe with her, sending straight for her Horse, and so with some few in her trayne, one of her seruants taking the old woman be­hind him, rod into the wood, and a great while in the Desart-like wildernes, till comming within a place thicke, and scratching, ful of bushes and thornes, catching as longing to hould her, and so into a little round place, greene as fresh grasse could make it, and as circular as those places faigned to be made by the Fairy company to daunce in, she leaped from behinde her guide, and comming to the Queene besought her to doe so likewise; she obeyed as led by Fortune; then alone, saue with the old woman, she went into the thicke, from thence into such another little round, in the midst wherof was a Stone, white as white could be, a Ring of siluer on the top wherby it seemed to bee lifted vp; the Queene looked on it, and admired it, when the old woman bad her lift it, she seeing the bignes thought it impossible, yet as come by her de­sire she would not disobay her will, wherefore lifting at it, she easily tooke it vp, and then appeared a rich, sumptuous, and braue Staire of stone, carued and guilt with gold. Those Staires she was to descend, which she did, enter­ing then into a delicate fine Gallery, as curious and costly all on Pillars of Gold; out of this into a Garden, such as the perfectest was described to be, thence into a Tarras, the railes, pillars, and all of the same continued richnes, out of that into a large, and spacious Hall, the inside for ingrauing, and curi­osity like, or surpassing the others, the very Benches, and Thresholds being pure Gold, the walls inriched, & adorned with pre [...]ious Stones. In the mid [...]st of this, or rather at the vpper end, was an Altar, or the proportion of one, [Page 442] sixe Candlesticks with wax lights in them vpon it but not burning; a Booke in the mid'st lay open which she tooke vp, and reading in it, instantly a deli­cate sound of Musicke was heard, and then appeared an ancient grauefull old man speaking these words.

Great and rightfull Queene of Achaia, blessed be your dayes, and happy may your issue be; know from me, that you were here foretold vs many years [...]ince, to witnes which: this booke shall giue you vnderstanding, (take­ing that on the Altar, in his hand) but till your owne, and by your selfe cho­sen Lord come, I must not discouer the secrets vnto you. As thus they were in discourse, a strange noyse of seuerall sorts of Trumpets, and other wind Instruments were heard, whereat entred the king Parselius, who hunting was brought by a like traine into that place. He beheld her, and she him, but as two Statues, set with their eyes one vpon the other without power to speak: so stood they, admiration filling them as they were but wonder. The old man thus said, since my Lord the King is now likewise present, I may lawful­ly goe forward, and fullfill the charge left vnto me, which hath laine in my hands these many yeares. Your Grandfather braue Queene, had a Brother named Distantes, he was a braue, and valliant Gentelman, as this Kingdome euer knew, but his misfortune was to fall in loue with a Lady, wife to ano­ther man, whose deserts especially for loue and truth to him, (worthynes a­boue all to be prized) merrited what? so much loue as was in him, (and that was as much as euer man carryed, or suffered for woman) could demaund, and she had such requitall from him: he had loued her before her marryage, she had likewise deerely loued him, and gaue so liuely proofes of it, as he was made possessor of what was most desired by him, and the other only made a colour for their loues, losing what was by marriage his due, but the others by the right of loue, so as he was the right Husband, the other the seruant that had but by stealth, Distantes possessing freely.

This proceeded, & she was with child, the good man reioyced at it, she was hartily glad, and the Prince thought himselfe blessed, who at the same time also had his wife with child, who dyed in child-bed, leauing a faire and deli­cate daughter as yeares after manifested [...] his Mistris had a sonne who were brought vp together, the Prince desiring her as a friend to bring vp his daughter, hauing by that a faire occasion to visit her whom hee loued more then any other, or himselfe which is easily to be beloued, since himselfe, he, nor any louer will spare in comparison of loue to the beloued. These chil­dren continually nourished, fed, and conuersing together, did breed, feede, and discourse affections by this meanes, growing like trees incensible yet to perfection, and florishing: such rootes they had planted, as could not with­out perishing both branches be decayed, yet time made them fearefull, by reason that she was so much greater, & aboue him; in her it made her loue the stronger, thinking it an honour to her, to aduance by her fauour a man fit in worth, though below her in dignity, the other being aboue all degrees. One day she was in the Garden by a delicate Fountaine, combing her haire, and braiding it into seueall breads, tying at each end a delicate rich pearle, hee came neere her enough to behold her, but not so neere (for his owne happi­nes) to hinder her, or make delayes from so delicate worke, with which shee knotted, and tyed vp his heart in as many bonds as her fingers made [Page 443] plats, and wound them at last all round to crowne her victory, and his bon­dage.

When shee had done, hee went to her, shee with smiles and pleasant dis­course welcom'd him, with such sweet and familiar affection, as had him boldly sit by her, take her hand, ki [...]se it, and so discourse of loue: so farre he proceeded, and so willingly shee imbraced his desires, as shee yeelded as farre as chast loue did warrant, promise of marriage passing betweene them. This continued till the Prince hauing prouided a fit marriage, for her, came and propounded it vnto her, little imagining what had pass'd betweene his children: glad hee was to see their loues, which nature told him was ne­cessary; but not (alasse) the least misdoubting the mischiefe committed, til she seem'd so nice, and vnwilling to bee perswaded, as hee grew offended, yet feared not such a misaduenture: then did hee set his Mistris, her husband, and the youth their sonne to worke with her; they all promised their helpes, except the young man, who modestly excused it as well as hee could, con­fessing his want of power with her, and vnwillingnesse to offend her [...] This did not dislike the Prince, who went away hoping for all that, to winne her in time, which hee was resolu'd not by force to purchase; but if by per­swasions not els to compasse.

The loue increased between the two young ones, as warmth in the Spring: but the misery at last grew to their losse; yet gaine in this kinde by sad dis­course making them know the ill they had runne into, and the sinne they had committed, which by this chance happened vnto them. The Lady, Mo­ther to the youth, and Gouernesse to the Princesse, began to discerne they lou'd, then doubted where, then guessed, and so grieu'd, and more was per­plexed, not being able to finde a way out of this maze of trouble, nor an end to winde the skeine vpon any bottome, but destruction and ruine: shee could not finde a friend to trust with it, to reueale her suspition to her belo­ued, not being sure of the ill, shee thought it not fit, since a iust taxe might bee laid vpon her iudgement, and an vncurable wound giuen to him to thinke of the offence, and deepe, though deserued punishment on him and her, whose sinnes had bred flowers to poyson themselues with all, and brought forth ioyes to be their ouerthrowes.

In these perplexities shee remain'd till a night or two before the Prince was to come againe, in the euening, or rather so late as might [...]e called night; shee went into the Garden to breath her complaints in the sweet and silent ayre [...] but what hower can be so late or early, that (if profitable) Louers will not finde conuenient?

Shee had not walk'd done Alley, but in a close delicate couer'd walke, she heard a whispring which made her stand still, and not vnmannerly, but onely for knowledge sake listen who they were, when against her will, (as often that happens) shee heard these words. My deare, said one of them, what strange mistrust is this, that lately is fallen into my mothers breast, to make her so curiously watch, and as it were striue to depriue vs of our loued mee­tings? Can shee bee vnkinde to her owne sonne? or thinkes shee that I am not worthy of thee? Can shee which cherished mee with such hearty loue, enny, or seeke vndeseruedly to barre my chiefest blessing? the earth holds not that treasure I prize like thee, the Heauens but in themselues can giue [Page 444] mee such content as thy presence fills me withall: ioy is not but in thy sight, nor am I ought if not with thee, barre mee thy conuersation and imprison mee; let mee bee banished thee, and murther mee; let mee not inioy thee, and let mee perish in perpetuall accursednesse. What shall I say? I cannot say I am worthy of thee; then should I flatter my selfe, and wrong thee. I cannot thinke I merit speech for mee; yet since thou gracest mee, why should any els enuy or grudge my fortune? As thou art matchlesse, so are thy fauours; and I am blessed, inriched, and enobled with them: why then should purblind chance or fond policie hinder me? tricks of state, as being tricks, are to bee condemn'd; I am true, thou excellent; I loyall, thou affe­ctionate: what Crocodile treason should howle to bewray, and destroy our contents; weepe not deare eyes, with that hee kiss'd the teares, and like Nectar dranke them, corsiues to see her shed them, but cordials as shed for him, and hee permitted to take them. O my deare life, cryed hee, teare not my soule with thy sorrow, let mee not see thee mourne vnlesse I may with that dye: hee still kiss'd her, I know not whether more molested with her paine, or ioyed with that liberty of kissing, shee at last kissing his eyes which likewise accompanied hers in showres. My ioy, said shee, why make you these questions? may there be any accident that can hinder our loues? our wills and desires, 'tis true there may, but be confident no further then absen­ting can gaine; for neuer shall I bee in heart and soule but yours: the least thing that belongs to you is deare to me, how infinitely deare then is your selfe; mine eyes are not so deare, my heart so well belou'd (but that you cherish it) as is your sight and dearest selfe to me. I thinke not of a fortune which is not with you and for you, I dreame not but of you, I ioy not but in you, nor am I ought els but your selfe metamorphosed wholly into you, and your loue.

Then sate they downe by a delicate Fountaine at the side of that walke, there they wailed againe, there testified their woes in sighes, and teares: at last (cryed shee) but if my Father take mee hence, will not you forget mee? shall not absence worke in you? Yes (said hee) in admiration of thee, to think how chast, how excellent thou art, how happy I was in thy loued sight, and so by that, see more and more cause alwaies to lament: other effects when absence brings to me, let ruine follow, or come ioyntly with it; if roome be found for foule forgetfulnesse, let mee of Heauen bee vuremembred; thy beauty printed in my heart, shall still before my soule call thoughts of loue: mistrust not me sweet life vnlesse thou meane to martyr me, I can loue none, I nere lou'd any, or ere will liue to think so shamefull & detestable a thought, as change in loue procures: no, I was borne iust, I am iust, and will dye iust. Shee wrung his hand, and these am I, cryed shee, they then embraced, with which the Mother came vnto them, who seem'd like a great showre in har­uest, grieuous to their couetous desires of being by themselues: the Moone shin'd so as all things appear'd as cleare as in the day. They were in inno­cence asham'd to bee heard and found alone, yet loue made them onely de­sire that, affection in a Mother made teares to fall for feare, and loue for him; respect vnto the other, as childe of him she most loued, made her weepe also for her; both brought passions, as for both shee suffer'd, shee could not speake, her breath was stopped, and shee was choaked with kindnesse, [Page 445] shee fell vpon their necks as they together kneeled vnto her, their eyes did say they faine would speake, and they begged for them, hers promised will to grant, and sorrow to deny; all three were in an extasie, not knowing what to doe, speech failed, senses lost their vse, and they were like the Images, that in resemblance of the substances implored good, but dumbe as they were, gain'd little, and thus did they remaine till hee spake. Madam (said hee) the bringer of me forth, the kinde nourisher of me in youth, and till this time; vndoe not your first worke, nor make mee wish I neuer had beene borne, which I must doe if I bee hindred from inioying this sweet Lady, Mistris of my life. You haue tenderly bred me with affection, and can bee as tender ouer me still, then let my sufferings in loue be as the dangers you sought to preuent, and so protect me still; I did amisse in beginniug without your knowledge, but she loues me (Madam) that speakes for me, and therein am I richer then in Kingdomes, if els where; she wishes what I seeke, and desires what I wish; you haue charity to strangers, let not your sonne bee a greater stranger to yo [...]; his life lies on it, and so yours; if you doe hold mee but as deare as yo [...] did lately protest I was: you haue power and meanes to ef­fect this. What can you desire of my Lord that he will not consent to? what intreat of her father that he will refuse? we both petition, both beseech your ayd, you may assist and saue vs, els let vs faint and perish in dismay. The La­dy then grew more passionate at his speeches, then before the plaine sute, & confession being deliuered by his own tongue, desirous she was to helpe, and succour him; but assured she was it lay not in her power; nor had she vse of speech, only teares freely seru'd her, so as if one would dreame of the anci­ent changes, one might think she had been instantly ready to be transform'd into a Fountaine; her silence gaue the young Lady opportunity, who thus discoursed her passions. Mother, said she, to my perfecter selfe, disdaine, no nor refuse the petition of my heart thus made, while that is prostrate to you, heare and grant my sute, vse the power of loue that no question you haue imployed by your own sufferings iudge mine, and for them both com­mand redresse; Loue dares not deny you, who can, and haue in my hearing giuen proofes of his respects due vnto you, let him now show what is your [...]ure; and allow it you, but imploy it to our profits; seeing thus before you, the two purest Louers his power euer touch'd, or [...] brought vnder his obe­dience; behold our pains as yours, for so they are since ioyntly his, and pitty mine as hers, bred by your hand, like a Lambe, till seazed by the wolfe of Loue, which (though fierce) yet kind and sweet are those clawes that hold me fast to him; he hath told you your power, I can but beseech your fauour, and beg it for loue, & your own Loue's sake; thinke how miserable the death of Louers will be, & how vnfortunate when caused by a mother, & a friend to loue? A friend to loue, cryd the old woman, and a mother? 'Tis true I am both, & they baue brought my miserie. O my children how miserable am I in this? I might (did not my own guiltines condemne me) think my selfe, & call my selfe your mother, but my shame makes my sorrow, and your losse must proceed from my infamy; grieu'd I am in soule to tell the truth, for you must and cannot choose but hate me, when I shall say, what yet my heart, loth to let me speake? my eyes will waste themselues in streames before I can v [...]ter it, and my soule rend when I must say, you cannot bee blessed [Page] in loue, your wofull and sinfull mother being the cause, and roote of all this mischiefe. I blush in soule guiltinesse, I mourne in the knowledge of my sinne, I am more faulty then euer woman was, and a meere staine to my sexe: you cannot, my dearest heart, enioy this Lady, nor you (sweet Lady) haue your loue: I am the Monster that keepes the gates against you, and the Ser­pent that deserues death from you for double iniury. Then kneel'd shee downe; pardon mee, cryde shee, you perfectest and best, though most vn­fortunate Louers, I am the wretch that hath vndone you and my sel [...]e; your loue's vnlawfull, I am the shamefull cause thereof; your loues cannot im­brace, I am the Diuorcer; your wishes, if granted, would bee wickednesse, and I am the ground brought forth this poyson; wonder not, but shun me as the Pestilence. I am not to bee neerer suffer'd then the Plague; for such I am to you, to you (deare two) the life of my poore life: the reason of all this was loue, and your loue by this sinfull loue is cross'd; you are, poore soules, deceiu'd and couzened; turne your affections now to chast and iust desires, for you are (ah that I must say so) Brother and Sister, children to one man. They, miserable soules, could not looke vpon each other, the grou [...]d was their highest obiect, swell and almost burst they did with griefe, their senses shut vp as in an Apoplexie: at last, all rose from the earth, into which they rather would haue gone, the old woman to her chamber, where falling into passions her weaknes could not sustain: but she with heart afflicted, oppressed with shame and vnsufferable woe, dyed, being found in the morning in her bed a pittifull corps of an afflicted minde. The youth and his Sister wept, and sate that night together wringing their hands, as their hearts and soules smarted for this harme: In the morning, for feare of spies, they parted their misery, being to shew themselues as carefull as before, their honours and the Parents lying on it, though their wofull fortunes might haue giuen liber­ty, which was their greatest Prison, liberty they before did couet, now had, is onely hated. Sobs and groanes were the words they said farewell with­all, their eyes so fill'd with cloudes of teares, as if yet pitty were had, not to let them see their extreamest misery, but through a scarfe of loue shed wa­ter. The noise of the Ladies death was soone spread abroad the house, com­ming to the young Lords eares, who with much sorrow, which hee dissem­bled not (his supposed father being absent) tooke order for her buriall, him­selfe soon after went thence priuatly, like Caunus from Biblis; yet the compa­rison holds not clearly, because these Louers were chaste and pure after the secret was disclos'd. Wandring about, hee happened on this Desart, and into a little round place in proportion, like this you came from, where you de­scended the stayres: Shee follow'd him, or fortune whither she would guide her, who was so kinde as to bring her to this place where they continued some short space, life not allowing too much sorrow, to such vnfortunate though worthy creatures, but would, to assist them, loose it selfe, parting with them, leauing their bodies cleare reliques of spotlesse truth, and cross'd affections malice. They saw each other, and bewail'd their chance, but to fauour each other, came no neerer then through those bushes to behold their wofull selues, as in Mooneshine glimmering, and as colde: At last, as they had iustly at once begun their loues, they iustly at one instant died a little be­fore meeting, pitty not letting the one outliue the other; or loue couetous, [Page 445] would receiue both parts at once againe into possession loth to spare any part of such perfection. The bodies by diuine prouidence kept safe, the woefull Prince, Father to them, by destiny brought to them, hauing searched, and all his seruants for them. Vnder a great Cyprus Tree which grew where the stone is now, they lay intwined in each others armes, dy­ing with as chast, and in as chast embracements as they had liued; her groanes of death called him, who had as little life, yet some thing more strength, finding her end comming, hee kissed her hand, and dying lippes, then tore some of those branches downe, honouring againe poore Caparis­sus, wearing his Funerall memory, making two Coronets, one for her, an­other for him selfe, and so Crowned, but most with loyall spotles loue, they ended, leauing no staine but misfortune to touch them withal, & much honour to be rendred to their loues.

The Prince finding them thus, fell downe on them, and as it were brea­thing his last likewise into them, but hee was to out liue them, and to grace their Funeralls: he therefore rose commanding that stately Tree to be cut downe, whose pride had beene such, as not to let any tree grow with­in the compasse of his armes; of the body hee made a Coffin, into which with precious balmes he layd the bodies as one; then did hee get the rarest workman, and by his directions make this place, the comming to it he would haue this way, as most vnusuall, and strange as their liues, the place els on the other side would haue suffered another, and finer comming to it, though painefull, the ascent being so highe, for indeed, it was a place as cut out of the maine Rocke, and wrought into the heart of it, all of one side hauing light in aboundance, but hee had, as it were, made his way in the middest thereof, as if to pierce the Center, as that part in their hearts had beene sealed.

When this stately and sumptuous building was finished, he went into Chi­os, where dwelt an ancient and rare Magitian, this man he made his instru­ment to fulfill his intent, who did so well performe it, as hee accomplished what Art could frame; my selfe, my Wife, the old woman that conducted your Maiesty and my Sonne that brought you hither, were heere established by them; this booke hee gaue mee to deliuer to you when you came, and the time appointed when a woman should raigne heere, louing as well, as much deseruing, but more happily enioying to her comfort, which is your selfe. I was commanded to tell this story to none els, nor deliuer this Booke, wher­in this is more exactly expressed, and yet all this in the presence of the King your chosen mate

These I haue obserued, and now haue but two things more to do, which are these, to shew you the Tombe; then opened he that place which seem'd like an Altar, wherein lay the two Louers adorn'd as they dyed, with the same Garlands whose honour was to continue greene still, as hopefull of their memory. The candles hee then lighted, telling them that hee and his we [...]e ordain'd to doe that office, while any of them remained aliue. The King and Queene lamented the Louers, pittying their miserable estates, and vnfortunate aduentures, giuing large allowance to the place to maintaine lights for euer ouer them, and the keeping of the place to them and their heyres. All charmes were now finished, and yet the memory of the charme [Page 448] of such a loue neuer could be but extant.

Thus Parselius and his Queene were made happy with the rarest accident of loue, and the richest Tombe Loue in the world had, they return'd with all content, honouring aboue all other places the Tombe of Loue, retur­ning soone after to their setled Court. Rosindy, Meriana and Perselina ha­uing left the Court, and returning with their best and conuenientest speed, passing through a part of Achaia, which was pleasant, but slightly inhabi­ted.

Perselina by reason of the heat, intreated them to stay a while in those places; they agreed to her demand: Rosindy and Meriana like two new mar­ried people for fondnesse and affectionate kindnesse, walking in the woods which were but of small heighth, though thicke, being like Copsies all of Birch, saue heere and there an Oake would shew himselfe in pride, and pe­remptorily tell them hee commanded; in this place the King took great de­light, so as they sate downe where fearnes grew, as if of purpose to bee their cushions, and then with sweet and louing discourse they let the time steale away, delight increasing while that litle addition of age grew on them vn­felt or thought on.

The delicate young Lady went by her selfe, her thoughts farre higher then that solitarinesse, could haue rais'd them, had shee not carried a more aspiring and braue minde continually about her then ordinary women, or the most extraordinary had, her fortunes were so farre short of her spi­rit, as shee suffered that to descend, to wish an increase, and sufficiency of estate though shee bought it with her marriage, and so grow subiect to an Hnsband, which, though loath shee was to doe, yet rather then want meanes, shee would venture her limits of absolute freedome; yet such her conceit of her owne iudgement was, in which shee erred not much, as shee thought shee should doe well enough with such a Husband as she would choose for free liuing; many had beene named, but one onely shee liked, who had but one barre to hinder his desires, which was that hee was a stranger, and no Macedonian; besides, of that Nation which in former times had beene enemies, though neighbours; and this was the chiefe obstacle, her Father a man of infinite spirit, and hauing had her by the widdow Queene of Macedon, after whose birth shee soone dyed, hee thought none worthy of her, especially, an Achayan, but ac­quaintance with Rosindy, and seru [...]ce to Parselius had brought him so neere, as shee resolu'd in her selfe, if hee remained constant, what euer came of it to bee his wife.

In this resolution shee walked vp aud downe the Cops, plotting as ma­ny seuerall waies to compasse her desires as plentifull loue could furnish her withall, at last an highway being through the Cops, and shee heard by that way, heard some comming downe towards her, and one to sing this Song.

When she had finished her song, Perselina standing among the bu [...]hes by the way side saluted her, who was a delicate, but distressed creature, in ha­bits of a Pilgrime, but carying a countenance that said for her, shee was no­ble, her traine halfe a dozen seruants of all kindes, two Gentlewomen, and foure men, all on foote with staues in their hands, bare footed and carrying their owne prouision in baggs at their backs, she onely had hers carryed for her. When she saw the Princesse (who in apparell Greene, and among the bushes appeard like Diana when in greatest perfection) she stayd, and with a modest salutation, according to her estate, answered the honour shee had receiued, by her saluting her. The Princesse desired her to rest her selfe a while with her. Madam said shee, then should I hope for that which yet I haue beene denied, rest neuer knew I any, one stop or other crossing me in it. I would not said she, haue you stand vpon the word, but agree to my de­sire and meaning, which is, that you should stay with me, and so a little de­sist from trauell. She humbly gaue thankes, but said, her habits admitted but iourneys. Eate and drinke said she, you must, let me but haue that time, and lawfully may I demand it, since your song tells mee your Pilgrimage is finished. Madam said she, in a kind it is indeede, but not perfectly, for till I finde my selfe in mine own home, I shall not think it done. Are you far from that [...] No indeede, answered the Stranger, within a league, and this my ground. Perselina againe vrged, and ciuillity made her consent, so as thus she proceeded.

Madam, said she, to whose commands can bee no refusall, say what you will haue your seruant, my selfe, performe for satisfaction to your will, I must and will obserue you; come in said shee into this thicke, and there let vs con­ferre. She obeyd, and willed her seruants to attend for her in that place, shee attending Perselina. Both in the thickest part as close as their sufferings were to themselues, they sate downe, the Princesse desiring to know the cause of her trauell [...] She with as much desire of keeping that s [...]ret, which must bee knowne, answered thus: Alas Madam, cryd shee, what torture doe you put me, a poore vassell to your authority, and loue, to rehearse that, which euery word strickes to my heart like daggers; hath my first sight giuen you such, dislike as you purpose to molest me? O [...] my little conuersation such distaste, as you resolue to afflict me? Otherwise, why should you lay this waighty Crosse vpon me? Not to bring any of these, faire Pilgrime, (said the Prin­cesse) but to know exactly what I already mistrust; led to it by your exellent speech, and manner; then said she, like a woman I will be pleased with your commendations, and as fond of them, follow your requests, I will yet by your fauour reserue some things to my selfe, and they are these, my name and Parentage, onely I beseech you let me call my selfe as I appeare.

[Page 450]Poore Pelarina your creature liued in this Countrey when it was in that happinesse, and innocency, as those dayes were, when Satir [...], Nimphs, and Shepheards liu'd free with one another, fearelesse of harm [...]s; Wolues, Foxes, Sheepe, and Lambes, fedde, liu'd, and were as one Flocke, nee­rer in familiarity then Goates are with the tamest now. Plenty grewe for men to reape, and they reap'd but what grewe for them. In this time I found my selfe made, mee thought, vnto loue, and I did loue, accursed bee this Groue for it; for heere, O heere, I lost my liberty, heere I walk'd, and discoursed with my selfe how happy I was, and all these parts that liu'd in that liberty where none felt straitnesse from the best man to the lowest flower, not so much as that the Cowslip look'd one whitt yellower in sus­pition; that the Rose, Violet, or Lilly, were sweeter, delicater, or beauti­fuller then themselues: all were good companions, and stroue but for so­ciety without suspition, the true and perfect golden age was then, when riches consisted in truth, since skipt to the hard cold Iron where rusty dis­q [...]iets eate, and spoyle, deuouring like Vipers their owne kinde, and now doth loue imitate that ill.

New come from hunting, in a Castle not farre hence, I first saw my first, & last loue; he was tall and slender, not so curiously shap'd, as extreame loue­ly, and amiable, his haire browne he wore in good length, his apparell han­some, not to curious, nor so neate, that discouerd not, hee rather affected ease, then fond Courtly vanities; hee was neither forward to discourse, nor sparing, when hee was acquainted to honour the company where hee was with his wit, which was incomparable, and so pleasing a way hee had in conuersation as made all hearts and eares his owne; what perfection was in all that sexe hee had vnited in him, and yet to this excellency as necessary to make him perfect man, hee had the most vsuall humous of change, and falsehood; woe is me that I must say so, but it is truth, and that can neither blush nor looke pale.

He came thither with a Lady hee seemd much to respect, and so much, as I was angry, and enuied her, before I knew I loued him, but that gaue mee cause to thinke it, and that thought to beleeue, and beliefe serued to con­demne me, to the chaines. I was young, and some said hansome, but that was not it I hoped vpon, desert I meant should bee my meanes, and on that ground would I lay my foundations, which proud so good, as I gaind his loue; and truely may I say so, for he did affectionatly loue me, and cheerish mee as his eyes, which neuer were so well pleased, as when looking on mee, where hee said, and ioyed for it, that hee sawe as pretty expressions of loue, as women could discouer. Visitations hee caused to bee betweene his bro­thers wife and my selfe, and why but to the ende of our meetings? Were I not forced to tell this, the more to shewe his disloyalty I would not men­tion it; both to auoide doubt of vanity, and austentation, and my owne torment to say this was, and should I leaue it out, how should you know what you desire, which is truth, and my story? This conuersation wrought a loue, and vntyed affection betweene vs two; so as we were, and are cal­led the true louing women friends, a rare matter (as men say) to bee found amongst vs.

Iourneyes to our seuerall kindred and friends wee made together, when [Page 451] feasts were made, wee three were inuited as not to bee seperated, and so much his loue and mine was noted, as none would at any time in Coa­ches, or at the Table deuide vs, loue being a thing so beloued, as euery one loues it for it selfe, in what place soeuer it be found to bee setled: so much I saw it marked, as had not my entire affection beene so violent­ly raigning, I might my selfe haue beene nice to haue it so publike; but what did I heede saue his loue, the embracing of it in equall flames as giuen to mee, and so wee gaue the world cause to admire vs, rather then after their fashion, to accuse, or scorne vs. If hee were missing from Court, or any place where he had occasion to be, to mee they would come for him, and then was I best able indeede to yeeld accoumpt of him; but what shall I say? All things growe, and liue to change, not my selfe, but am changed from youth to yeares, from beauty to decay, from blessing to all miserie: what I or the World held strange but yesterday, this day makes vs know, and taste; Plaines are where Woods were, Sand onely, and bar­rennesse in the fruitfullest places. Asia is barren that flowed in much plen­ty, Cities wasted, ruin'd, and lye desolate that were the Earths glory, and for mine owne particular, I am vndone that once was highest in For­tunes Paradise.

What shifts would hee make to hold vs together, or if a day absent to meete againe? How vnkindly would hee take the least looke of mine, if sadd, lest it had beene to him? And how kinde was he to me, neuer quarel­ling, if not, that I was not as hee thought fond enough, or some time lesse fond of him then I was, which I neuer knew, nor could, vnlesse I would, or were able to leaue louing my owne soule, for little lesse dearer was he to me, or yet is. One night he came vnlook'd for to our house, but not vnthought on by me, nor vnd [...]sired by him: How did he ioy in his countenance to see me, an [...] I reioyce to haue his sight? I was strooke with so much content as I was spee [...]hlesse, he blush'd with kind affection, I with agreeing loue, all Supper our eyes fed on one anothers lookes, writing our mindes in them as with Diamonds in Glasse, and no more permanet did his prooue. After Supper he would needes (onely to haue me with him neerer then he thought hee could in the roome) goe walke into a Garden to heare the Nightingale, I obeyed with as much willingnesse as he desired, and so calling the Lady, my friend, with vs, we passed away the time till night calld vs to rest, but a little rest tooke we, for our Chambers being neere, we sate and discoursed all night in a little Gallery betweene the Lodgings; the morning comming we parted, but like the first part of it with dewye teares, though but for some houres as we thought, yet it proued longer in a kinde, for ma [...]y weekes pas­sed, before we could enioy so much happinesse as that night wee had, yet were our eyes blessed with each others sight, and our hands made happy with being linked within each others sweet, and softest prison, louing so much the bandes, as they would almost in kindnesse hurt, with hard, but kindest holdings. O me, how blessed was I then, and now how haplesse? Hunt we did together, and Hawke with such pleasure as drew enuy on vs [...]oth, but what did we except our owne contentments value? He delighted in my company, I would haue dyed but hee should haue had it, nothing [Page 452] thought I on but to please him, my study onely bent that way, nor tooke hee liking to any thing more then how to delight mee; thus agreede, what happinesse did wee liue in? Fauourites in their Princes eyes are not so great, nor happy as we were. This continued (alas, why vse I that word continue, hauing experience of the contrary?) but this blessing was for foure yeares space; then, I know not what Deuill, but the great one himselfe, Change, put in a spell, and wicked power against mee, bringing Beauty and Youth in excellency before his eyes, to make mee excellingly vnfortunate; hee was caught with those faire allurements, and I tyed to mischiefe by that taking.

Woe is mee, I lost all my comfort, all my ioy by that; but at last a grea­ter ill tooke mee, for another got him from vs both, who had long sought it, but while he held fast to me, she could not gaine him, beauty was the vn­tying of my blisse, and wit her losse, yet I had the fairer share in loosing that, a faire creature was my vndoer, like the fortune of Paris, she a terrible harme to haue her ioy, and hopes bereft her by a witt, which gaining dis­couer'd her want. But I pittied her, though shee had robbéd mee, as if I should haue compassion of a Thiefe that another causeth to be executed, who hee had before stolne from me, and was forgiuen: so I forgaue her, and was sorry for her, who long outliued not her losse.

Was shee a marryed woman, said Perselina, when shee dyed? Shee was answered Pelarina. Did shee much loue, said the beautifull Princesse? Like Women that loue the ordinary way of loue said the other, whose affection, greatnesse, gifts, or such ends entice, not the vertue of loue it selfe; after her death hee vsed mee a little better then before, as if againe casting his eyes on me, for loue, or vse. Why, said Perselina, could you haue patience to endure him after hee had vsed you so vildly, as to change? Patience Madam said she, yes, and a greater wonder, in me affection continued strong towards him, and doth, though his Mistresse call'd it dulnesse, when I told her, good natures would haue giuen it the title of patience, but I excusd her for it; to witnesse my patience, I haue been with her in companies a­broad, nay at her owne house, and seene all what I had once enioyed giuen to her, my eyes looked not on as if blear'd, my hand vntouched as if poy­sonous, hers kist, babies look'd in her eyes, smiles flowing to her, frownes plentifully shewing themselues on me. I haue hunted with them, I haue gone (as one day I must needs remember aboue the rest) a Fouling with them, where so much fauour I receiued from him who was once mine, as she being a little parted from vs to shoote at a Fowle, he went as fast from mee as hee could without running, while his scorne rann to me. An other Gentleman was there, and none els, he was of his Family and kindred, and as true louer of me, as I was of his cousens, but him I as much shunn'd, and rather then goe softly with him. I went apace after my flyer, the way of necessity leading me to follow my disdainer. When they met, with what loue did he take her hand and kisse it? I following vnmarkt, but weary, and dabled like a hunted Hare in Winter, tyred with my disgrace, and weary of my wrongs, sweeting with passionate paine, and durted in despaire, yet loued I still. A bracelet he wore of her haire braided and tyed about his left arme, a peice of it one day [Page 453] hung out, I saw it, and griefe with it, and yet a little ioy tooke me when I dis­cern'd he knew it should not be seene by me, and that he had so much shame, or pitty as hee turn'd from me, blushd, and put it vp out of sight, I would faine haue said, your newe fauours too much discouer themselues, but I fear'd, or rather was loth to displease him; at first, he was a little, or much more strange, but after he grew sociable, and I continued humble, finding fault with nothing, but embracing all small curtesies, or the lookes like them as welcome, and so vsed them; yet so much it was marked, and I discern'd my losse publikely noted, as I grew sensible of it, and so a small deale wi­ser, for needes I would be free.

I tried all meanes possible, but what force can peruaile against an impreg­nable strength, or steely heart of Faith, and loue? Yet I vsed all instrumen­tall meanes that could be thought on, I look'd off as oft as my heart could let me, I look'd then when I could not choose, with resolution to dislike, saying in my selfe, haue I suffered this for you that scorne mee? I would faine haue found fault with his shape, his fashion, or any thing, blaming my selfe for doting on snch an one, but these would not serue, for the more I loo­ked, I saw more cause of Loue, gazing though to death; willingly I absented my selfe, and in absence, had got so much heart, as warranted me to see him againe, and haue my desire of carelessenesse; I ventured, assured as I thought, but couzened I was meerely; for though I came in like a Giant swolne with pride of my owne power, and assurance of my conquest, the true Knight Loue came armed against mee in armes of fire, and truth, I yeelded, and could but like a poore miserable Poet confesse my selfe in Rime, thus finding my error, with the blisse (I confesse) of seeing him who I found I could not but loue for all other resolutions.

And so indeed I was, for I neuer knew loue stronger in me, as then of necessity it ought to bee, contending with iudgement; multitudes I could reherse of his fauours, and disgraces to mee, of his mistresses feares, and smiles, but to what ende? All can but shew I was blessed, and am vn­fortunate, my face and life say that for mee, onely this appertaines to the Story.

I at last was againe made beleeue he loued me, and I was (euer in that a wa­uering religious) glad of it, proud of it, ioyed with it, and vtterly ruin'd by it. [...] He was in shew as he was wont to be, I saw it, gladed at heart for it, others told me of it, I was like a Birde nice, and blusht, yet receiu'd it willingly; ad so, as I had cause, after finding his neglect againe, to grow with shame, and teares to repent my credulity, and to manifest it with my true peni­tence. I therefore tooke this Pilgrimage vpon mee, which now I haue in a kind ended: I haue seene Hiersalem, confest my sinnes, asked for­giuenesse, and remission, which I hope my desire of pardon, though not my merits, hath purchased mee, and thus I am returnd?

[Page 424]But are you free from loue, said Perselina? In troth no Madam, said the o­ther, I loue him stil, but I hope it is now but charitably, yet I am afraid to try my selfe left I should finde my spirit like my selfe, fraile. The Princesse smi­led at her pretty innocent confession, thinking that shee had learned so tru­ly to consesse as shee could doe no other, yet in that shee was deceiu'd, for vnlesse shee would, shee could bee silent. But was your iourney and vow wholly made vpon this, wherin you were faulty but in vertue, or be­liefe to it? Mix'd Madam, said shee, I professe, and mixture made it, I did so farre beleeue, as I granted what I may lawfully repent, and neces­sarily also, but Loue my ruler commanded, and I obeyed. I could in my selfe say, why should I yeeld, I must deny; but when I saw him, my soule flew to him, he but asked, and I yeelded, yet this I repent not, but a vani­ty I had about mee, which because once liked by him, and admired by our Sexe, or those, of th [...]m that I durst make my follies seene vnto, a fond humour of writing, I had set downe some things in an idle Booke I had written, which when hee saw, hee thought touched, or came too neere, or I imagine so, because in some places he had turnd downe leaues, and onely at such as he might if hee would dislike, and were those I thought hee would take notice of, yet he neither did by word nor writing, not ho­nouring me so much, who was his slaue, as to finde fault, or to seeme pleasd. I was me thought left to coniecture, and the further I went in such coniecture I runne into feare and sorrow that I had offended, yet I can cleare my selfe if I might come to answere, but I cannot, not could, so as finding my selfe thus miserable, I tooke my Pilgrymage willingly.

What could you say to offend? In troth Madam, said shee, I discouer'd how neere I was to bee an ordinary louer after losse, which is to grow neighbour if not inhabiter with hate; and some two Poeticall and neate expressions I made of it, yet I came off, though hurt as it seemes in the acti­on; but let him make the case his owne, and I doubt hee will ra­ther cut the cord then vntye the knots: but I haue done, I forgiue all, and wish hee will also doe so with mee; I pray for him, and truely with­out faigning I loue him for all this, firmely, and shall doe; let him vse his worst in scorne, which he hath prettily practis'd: I thinke hee can neither shew, nor, assure my selfe, study that cruelty which can make me hate him; nay, in earnest leaue louing, though it may bee I haue err'd in saying so, boa­sting rather then hauing such strength; for which, great loue and you dearest beloued, pardon mee, I aske it with a repentant and clensed heart, and (if it please you) remember what cause you gaue; if not, nobly forgiue. Perse­lina found in her selfe she should neuer come to that excellency of constancy; wherfore she admired, thogh scarce commended her richnes, in that plenty, and fulnesse, & being call'd by Rosindy, left the constant Lady to her vertuous vowes, and religious truth, who liued the rest as she had begun her dayes in feruent zeale and affection.

The King and Queene with the delicate Princesse arriu [...]ng soone after in Macedon, where they rul'd both with power and loue, loued with feare, because they fear'd they could not loue enough; the young Princesse soone after tooke her minde and former resolution, marrying her selfe with her chosen loue: some busines there was before it could bee effected; but the [Page 421] effect came happily to their owne resolutions conclusion, & peace, the Nurse of loue was among them. Philarchos with Orilena going for Mytelin, met a Ship riding, or rather floating, for vnguided she was, vnrul'd, and vnman'd, tumbling vp and downe, like the Boates boyes make of paper, and play with­all vpon little brookes: onely a Dogge, to shew some liue creature was in her, came on the hatches, and walk'd with much grauity, like an officer or kinde of watchfull seruant, he bark't not, nor fawningly sought ayde, by lea­ping, whining, shaking his head, or wagging his tayle, or other such dog-like expressions, but look'd soberly, & entertainingly, like a steward on the stran­gers: the Prince came and laid the Ship aboord; when Philarchos saw none but this guardian, he leap'd into her, and some of his Knights with him, the Dogge look'd on them, and as one might say, discreetly went before them, (as their guide) into a Cabin where a Lady lay on the ground weeping and wringing her hands, all in mourning, and more sorrowfull yet in her illustri­ous expression then the mourning could shew mournfull, and therefore shee more then their habits mourn'd. Shee onely look'd vp, and cast her eyes downe againe, and her face against the ground, crying, Alas, haue I not beene miserable enough? must I in this assured quiet bee molested? can I not haue a restfull dying time allow'd me? shall not the Sea nor a cast-away Barque haue power to let mee dye in peace? then yet endure more, and know thou must (poore woman) dye, as liue in perturbation. Philarchos went to her, tooke her by the arme, and gently lifted her vp a little, vsing these wordes: none he [...]re purposeth to molest you, wee are, and will bee rather your seruants then disquieters, by chance we came to succour you, and now by resolution will, if you please to accept of it. Sir (said she) your noble disposition appeares in this, and God (I hope) will reward you for it, I am so lamentable a soule, and so vnable to thinke of ability (though grate­fulnesse rules mee) as I am onely able to pray for you, and that I will not faile to doe; but Sir, you must leaue mee, for I am appointed to dye, and by him that hath power to doe it, if he had but onely commanded me, with­out leauing me to this assurance. There is no necessity (saith Philarchos) in obeying you in this, who though condemn'd (as it seemes) by a power o­uer you, gouernes not vs, nor can, though soueraiguize ouer you, subiect vs to his law: therefore I will not obey him nor you in this; fortune brought me fortunately to the finding you, shee shall likewise bring you to life, for wee will saue you, you are our prey, we will not in complement let you de­stroy your selfe, it seemes you are dead to those condem'd you, you may yet lawfully liue to vs that redeeme you, howsoeuer, bee confident wee will conduct you hence and place you somewhere where you shall bee safe from a certaine ruine. That will more ruine mee (cryed shee) when I shall bee bar'd from obeying him whom I must euer obserue. What obligation binds you, said hee: Soueraignty of Loue, said she, and loyall subiection to his will. Tyes, said Philarchos, fit to bee durable, and affection indure, but else a bargaine is not to bee made onely of one side, you are free when hee breakes: to dye, said shee, neuer to liue disobedient to him who is my Lord.

The Prince knew such things as loue and loyalty were or had beene, yet hee was willing to diuert her from those courses because running to perill, [Page 456] and therefore hee replyed, these were the expressions of purest zeale in loue: but loue was neuer ordained to be such a monster as to destroy, if hurt by change, tryall iudicially should helpe, not harme directly pursue. Shee sigh'd and lamented. Hee comforted and disputed, at last tooke her vp, part­ly by will, partly by force from the ground, and carried her to his dearest Orilena, who kindly, like a braue noble Lady, welcom'd her: her Dogge would not part from her, but still attended her, lying when shee sate or lay on the ground at her feete; when shee stir'd, hee followed (seruant-like) her motions.

When shee was out of her Prison, which should haue beene after her death, and buriall, like one come forth of a fainting fit; shee look'd about and star'd like a Hauke that had beene hooded when shee comes first to sight againe: a decent and yet Princely salutation shee gaue to Orilena, which was repayed her with the like, and much courtesie. Philarchos com­manded to put off from the other Barque. Two of his Knights that were brothers begged her, and went away in her vpon an aduenture with his consent, while they sailing towards Mytelin, gained so much of the sad true Lady, as shee brake silence so long as to deliuer this discourse. My natiue Land (though vnnaturall, because such cruelty was in the Countrey) is the sweet Iland of Nycaria, my parentage of the best bloud, next the chiefe Lord and his child [...]en, and of his house I am, though not of the same name. I fell in loue with a young Noble-man, much esteemed, and as any, honour'd for his brauery and courage; no spirit in the Island excelling his, if equalling, no wit comparable to his; nor no Nobleman endued with more vertues, as learning, horsemanship, and what els can bee required in such an one, whose noble descent answer'd or demanded these excellencies.

Hee loued mee like wise as passionately, and fondly, which at last was and is my ouerthrow. I liu'd with my father most commonly, but oftentimes I went to the Court, more (I confesse) to see him and ioy in his presence, then to see any vanity there; yet I both saw those sports the Court affects, and are necessary follies for that place, as Masques and Dauncings, and was an Actor likwise my selfe amongst them, though neuer affecting them further then to content him I lou'd, who I saw well pleased with all: many banquets I was the cause of when we met, and to my Fathers hee or­dinarily did come, a strict friendship betweene them: neuer was hee, if absent quiet, if still one or other of my seruants were not wth him, nor was I without some of his perpetually with mee; not that I thought or could let so wronging a concipt come into mee that hee mistrusted mee; but out of sincere affection to haue euer some of his followers with mee, to giue occasion when I durst not else to speake of him: none neede bee kept to make mee thinke of him; for my thoughts neuer strayed from him, or staid one minutes space.

At my Fathers, (which was as fine pleasant and sweet a seate as any in that Countrey, there ran a delicate wanton Riuer, twining it selfe into e­uery dainty meadowes armes; not deepe but fit for Dianaes Nymphes to haue vsed: in imitation of whom, my selfe and Sisters often went into it [...] this Riuer came fauourably to grace the place, close vnder the Orchard wall: A backe way wee had through the Gardeus, out of which wee went, and [Page 457] there bath'd our selues: an old Gentleman, a seruant to my Lord, watched vs, and so neatly carried his businesse, as wee neuer doubted him: but not being able to continue truer to himselfe then to vs, hee told mee of it, describing so truely all our fashions (being eight of vs) maner, wordes, and actions, as I knew hee spake truth, and (said hee) had it not beene for one thing, I could haue wish'd my master in my place. I ask'd him what that was? He said because one of vs kept her smocke on them, he would, he was sure most haue wish'd to see, I knew her whom he ment; for none but my selfe did so, and priuately I said in my heart I did beleeue him, and wish'd it too, so it had beene by the like chance.

This old man whose thoughts were young, and toung-nimble in such a kinde, louing the remembrance of what he was then past, at his Lords next comming told him of it: Hee straight wish'd his fortune. So did I, said hee, wish it for you, and told my Lady (for so hee call'd mee.) What, said she, answer'd my Lord? Nothing, replyed hee, but smil'd, and walk'd on. Hee came imediatly to mee, telling mee what hee had heard, and vrging mee to know what I thought when I smil'd. I truely confest, and hee as truely lo­uingly tooke it, louing ioyfull thankfulnesse shining in his eyes. Twenty of these passages wee had, and as many seuerall Ladies, and of as seuerall com­plections and dispositions almost fell in loue with him, in that time hee lo­ued mee: thousands of curses I had among them; but as long as I prosper'd in his loue I cared for none of them, but sped (mee thought) the better, ra­ther wishing so still to bee prayed for, so I enioyed the righter way. Such pretty testimonies hee gaue mee, as I must haue beene (vnlesse I had beene vnreasonable) forc'd to bee assur'd of his loue, shewing almost contempt to all others.

I was so, and with all faith imbrac'd and cherish'd it; so modest hee was besides, as I lou'd that in him, and saw it there a greater vertue then it is ordinarily esteemed. Proofes I had of it, for being alone, hee neuer was vnciuill, nor did offer what I as willingly consented not vnto; yet at last my father finding (as easily hee might of any, hauing beene a great Louer) that I was intirely his; hee coniecturd, that I could deny nothing, therefore would rather seeme to trust him, or els it was to binde him to him, if any such bonds can serue, or preuaile where true loue is. As one day when hee was to goe a iourney leauing him with me, farewell daughter, said he, and the like to you my Lord, and I pray you bee honest. Hee blush'd, what did I then? coniecture noble Lord and Lady, truely I was heartily asham'd; and yet soone got courage againe, when I remembred wee were not guilty: but the word honest made mee thinke of the contrary, that thought moou'd my blood in [...]o my cheekes, and stir'd occasion in him to discourse with mee of it; so as I feare that did more harme, which should haue preuented, if but in thought then before was thought on; for beleeue it, it is a dangerous mat­ter to bee forbidden a sweet in loue, as I haue heard it credibly said, and know it in some kind exercised; but wee did fulfill his desire, and hee found vs as hee left vs, chast, but affectionately louing, which all forbiddings could neuer haue hinder'd or lessened, my father himselfe euen enuying vs, for his loue, (though to many) had neuer brought him so true an one as I was.

[Page 458]This lasted as long as it was possible for a man to bee iust, and longer then (except few) any haue beene; and yet I thinke truely hee had slip'd sometimes, but I knew it not, or had no cause, out of want, to mee to finde fault: But this fault came on his side, how easie was it for him then to take exceptions, who before would be readier to answer for mee, or my friendes, then our selues; yet hee did not absolutely in two yeares giue ouer his former fashion, though (alasse) his loue was dry­ed, and like Roses by mee kept for the colour they had, and sweet­nesse, the remembrance still held, but wither'd, and not themselues to bee knowne by sight.

At last such a quarrell hee had against himselfe (as if for euer louing mee) as hee grew discontented in my company; snapt mee vp, if I aduentur'd to speake; frown'd, if hee caught mine eyes on him, and withall plotted dis­grace, carryed himselfe to mee, that his brother and his owne friends said it was too much. I bore it, and truely for all that left not louing nor grieuing for it; yet at last I got so farre, as my sorrow exprest it selfe, not so openly in show, though as neere in acquaintance; for it was an houshold guest with mee.

But so it happened at last, that this Lady hee had taken, and cast mee off for, loued another, which was to him discouer'd; hee liked it not, yet made no show of it, because hee had said, when euer hee mistrusted his loue hee should hate her, and that might hee, for heere hee was assur'd, or might bee: but other reasons held them together, yet it gaue him leaue to look on me a little again, and to me those lookes were like the sweet eue­nings wherein the Larke delights her selfe so much, as shee flyes into it, ne­uer satisfied with the delicacie, till at the height shee is forced to retire, bid­ding that farewell: So did I, for I was forced to part againe from that; but in that halfe day of blisse hee tooke occasion to speake of old matters.

I was as willing to that as hee, and so wee discoursed temperately, in the end, hee said, for that cause, said hee, (speaking of a friuolous and vn­waighty businesse God knowes) I lost you all, You had left vs, said I, be­fore that time, with that hee sate a little neerer to mee, and (it seem'd) would haue proceeded, which I wish'd, for I made no question then of sa­tisfying him if euer wee came to speake: but one of the wicked Ministers of my ouerthrow, as destin'd to spoyle mee, had such a spell, as in absence shee had a spirit able to ruine mee, sent for him, hee went, but promised to come againe. I attended, as resolu'd neuer to giue cause of dislike; but hee was stayed, and I in a mighty fret return'd to my lodging. Another time he tooke occasion being inuited, (which then he must haue beene, if he were desir'd at my fathers, which before had been his ordinary table) to a dinner my father made to many of his friends, and hee esteemd by him so, hee was solemnly inuited. He came, and at dinner sitting by me, fell into discourse of loue, and of womens inconstancie, as if I had beene guilty: I, knowing my innocencie, spake like that, and so vnderstood him not in shew.

Then hee fell to other kindes, yet on the same theame, and at last hee came to say, how poore Paris was vs'd for choosing well; for (said he) Iuno because a Queen wonld be belou'd. Pallas, a boystrous woman would fight, if [Page 459] not chosen, poore Venus onely loued, and for Louessake wan the Aple, thus was he punished for loue. I thinke not for that so much (replyed I, by your Lordships fauour) that he was distresse, but for being false before to Enona. He said no more, and by that I saw he vnderstood me; yet after againe he had another Ierke at it, but in another sort speaking of loue, and returning to their former loues. There may be hope then, said I. Introth little, said he: for if euer, I shall come tatterd and torne, not worth looking on. Yet then said I, if to me you come, I will welcome, and cloath you. He looked pleased with me for yet, it opportunitie gained by the other, lost by mee, held him as shipps tossing in a Hauen, but winde-bound. Well, I grew desperate and indeed heeded nothing that befell me; in the conclusion I spake something, or some­thing was said for me, which brought me vnder the compasse of the law, as farre as life came to. I was condemned, but he though an Officer, sat not on my Iudgement: some thought out of pitie, yet I tooke it not so, for his pre­sence (in such a cause, wherin I protest I was altogether wrongd) might haue ayded me, at least his sight would haue comforted me in the condemnation, so much I loued him; but he was absent, and my misfortune so present, as I was adiudged to death; yet the Prince of Nicaria being mercifull, would not take my life according to the Countrie Law, but after another fashion would haue it as hee meant; for hee censured me to this, from whence you haue relieued me.

When I was to be put into this Tombe, as was meant me, the chiefe Lords and Officers came to see me (according to the Prince his order) committed to the Sea, into the Ship they put me with meate for three dayes, no man nor creature with me but my Dog, which would not forsake me, and they allow­ed with me, not for loue, but hope of harme to me; for my Victuals they ima­gined he would haue share of, and at last deuoure mee, being one of the fier­cest in all the Country. But in this they deceiued themselues, for since wee came aboard, which is now eight dayes, he hath satisfied himselfe with very little, and neuer troubled me. A Fisherman came by, and would haue had the Dog, he entised him, but his faith to me (more then I euer found in man) his distressed Mistris, held him with me; hee threw him then a large piece of meate, which though stale, was good enough for a Dog, he tooke that, and fed a little on it, but as if weighing his estate, left part for other times; the man also gaue mee something, pittying my case, but not daring to helpe mee, left me.

Among the Officers that came to my liuing execution, my Lord was one, though he stayed not to see it performed, but came among vs hastily, stept to me, whispered, and bad me farewell, and be like your selfe (said hee) resolute, die confidently, and cherfully, this will comfort you, and honour your end. I heard him, but could not answere him, onely I looked vpon him, and with teares told him, his censure was harder, then the Prince his, for I loued him, the cause of all my miserie: but he scarce looking on me, as hasti­ly went away againe, leauing mee to the fauour of the Windes his con­stant Rulers, to the Seas furie, and Fortunes hazard, yet all kinder then hee, haue ioyned for my good: and I am saued by you braue Princesses, yet would I beseech you again to let me obay his commands, which because his, I would doe.

[Page 460]They refused that, yet so neare they came to fulfilling it, as they left her on a Rock in a little Iland with an old religious father, there shee remained, and spent the rest of her dayes in prayer, her Dog still garding her, which at her death brought her (who out-liued the old man) to haue a Christian bu­riall by his howling and crying, calling passengers in, and buried her, but could not win the Dog from the graue, but there he died.

Philarchos and his deare held on their way for Mytelin, where with ioy, and feasts they were welcomed, and liued euer, till their ends happily, but Philarchos thought his end the crueller, because faire Orilena was taken from him, desiring to die together. The King of Bulgaria with his braue Queene, as sumptuously as their owne minds required, and their minds were no low­er then such Princesses should be, but as much higher as ambition, and all the dependances of that folly could carry them, and that was high enough to make them aboue iudgement proud; such Coaches, Liueries, furnitures for horses were neuer seene before, yet they but poore as her Maiestie esteemed them, who surely would haue been contented to bee starued, so all shee had touched had been Gold and Diamonds. In this magnificence they tooke leaue of the King and Queenes in Morea, and so tooke their iourny towards Bulgaria, they only riding in one Coach, two other went spare, one for each, the traine so richly prouided for, as ordinary Kings and Queenes, would haue been well contented with that furniture, but yet these were scarce good enough for their seruants.

Out of Morea they went without aduenture, and so passed, till in Liuadia this fine accident befell them. A young Gentleman attended on by six Pa­ges, apparreld in coates of Grasse-greene Veluet, laid with gold Lace, and twelue footemen in the same colours, all with Plumes of greene and yellow in their Hatts, the young Gentleman in a sute of those colours imbroidred with Gold, the trappings for his Horse, and all furniture answerable, came towards the most glistering troope of Bulgaria, then being instructed accor­dingly, he presently allighted, and on foote presented himselfe to the Queen, humbly making a reuerence to her liking, the like he did to the King, then he deliuered these words.

Great, and most happy King enioying such a treasure, as hauing the worlds riches composed in this vnestimable Iewell, the Earths admired Starre, and mans wonder, your Queene, I am sent vnto you both; but if I faile in perfor­mance of my message, blame your owne glorious aspects, that take from mee the true abilitie of speech and boldnesse, a Messenger should be armed with all; but who can without trembling speake to the Gods, or touch the Sunne, if he descend within reach? no more can I speake to you, whose Maiesties strike me dumbe, or make me (to say better) faulter like an vnperfect Schoole-Boy saying his lesson. They heartned him wi [...]h ioy, flattering pride nou­rishing their proud hearts, when he proceeded. Pardon and grace (said he) from you so heauen-like creatures giues life with speech to me againe. I am sent from the Prince of Liuadia my Master, who hearing of your comming this way, doth desire the blessing I his Vassaile haue already enioyed, humbly beseeching you to honor him with your royal presence in his fathers Court, an old Prince, but good, where hee is within two dayes to haue a Tri­umph, by meanes of manie strangers, and happie he is to haue such an oc­casion [Page 461] at this time to be the fitter to giue entertainement to such persons, he earnestly desires not to be refused, and I pray I may not be sent, but with the soules-like-comfort of blisse, which is your grant. The King was the finest speaker in Court language of the World, and so complemented, as the youth had enough to doe to returne halfe his good language to his Lord; for the Queene, shee soone had granted to shew her beauty, and scarce could hold within the bounds of expressing what she felt of ioy, knowing shee must bee admired, but at last said, she would obey her Lord, and accompany him to waite on his Prince; thanks she returned none, for she esteemed this honour but due to her, and knew it should be offered her. Forwards they passe, [...] within the [...]ight of the Court, where the Prince, and many Noble-men at­tending him, met them in arming suites, and conducted them to the Court: but yet there wanted, though all this honour was done, that whereto her Pil­grimage was made, her Saint was not among them, and yet vnproperly that is said, for she respected him but for ado [...]ing her; it was but earely in the day, being scarce foure in the af [...]ernoone, wherefore the Prince asked her, if she pleased to goe first into a rich Pauillion, raised from the ground at one end of the Lists, and see them practise, for that was their houre. She was very wil­ling, yet stayd till her husband with curious words and phrases had consen­ted; so they went in, from whence at the other end they discernd the old Prince and Princesse, with the graue Lords with them; then did the Prince arme himselfe, and the Prince of Iambolly, as not thinking of the good for­tune to see her, but as if by chance led thither, came into that place to arme. She would needs goe forth, and leaue the roome to him, but so she did it, as al eyes might see, good manners, no [...] wil to leaue him, made her offer it. He as curteous would rather (he said) arme in the field, then be so rude. She blusht, and smiled & [...]imperd, & all to auoid expression, expressed what hee desired, and she granted. Her husband was gone with the Prince, and so saw not this encounter. Well, he at last got another roome, right ouer against that, and ar­med, came downe into the lists his Beauer open; but to see how he stood ga­zing on her, and she in what perplexity shee was, to the window shee would come, and a while stand still, looke on him, he stare on her, then retire; red with content, and yet finding fault with the hea [...]e as that the cause of her dis­temper. Many Ladies were there likewise to see the sport, who lost not that better pastime in marking her, yet took no notice of it, lest offence might fol­low, but shrewd wits there were, that after made pretie mirth at it. To the place againe she would come, and looke though ouer them, and see in spite of seeing, and as if whether she would or no take content. The Prince came al­so, and stood there beholding as the rest did, while some others ranne; at last came a great man of that Country, and desired one of the Ladies there to be­stow a fauour on him. She did so; Now you are engaged (said the Prince) to runne well, else your fauour will be shamed, and you for not better main­taining it. I will doe gallantly, replyd he. The Iambollian then cast his eyes crauingly towards her, she onely lickt her lipps, that when they returned to sight, they might looke like cherries after raine, red, and plumpe, and totterd her head, which made a feather shake she had on it. Hee with that it seemed vnderstood her, and lifting vp his Bases a little of one side, as if to take out his Handkercheif, shewed her his points were of same the colour. Then shee [Page 462] smiled, and he most ioyfully put downe his Beauer, and prepared to run, cast­ing vp his eyes first to her, from whom he hoped to haue gained strength; but she was so weake in bearing passion, as againe shee had retyred, and so often she did it, and so tumble her selfe vp and downe, wallowing in pleasure, and vnsufferable content, as she was in such a heate, as that angred her, because she thought she looked not well, hauing too much colour; then did that heate her with chafing, so as betweene those two fires of loue and pride, shee burnt so much, as all the Ladies warmd themselues at her fire, and rubd vp the re­membrance of their old passions, so as it might haue been dangerous, and the heate so great, and spreading, as might haue fired many hearts not to bee quenched againe. Fairely he ran, and fairely and friendly shee beheld him, which made him neuer wearie, nor would he haue giuen ouer, but that the Prince went in, and night grew on. Then came hee vp to her, and kissed her hand, which she told him by her loue bestowing eyes, she willingly yeelded him. Stay shee did as long as was fit, and after most in that place, wishing I thinke to haue been his Armorour to vnarme him, else she might haue gone with the rest: at last away shee went, and was by Lords, appointed by the Prince, conducted to her lodgings, where shee was visited by him, and her seruant.

The next day the Iusts in earnest was to bee, against which, how glo­riously was she attired? Lyuadia neuer saw such a starre for brightnesse. In that place she would needs againe sit, and there she was placed, where shee might best see, and bee seene, the windowes being so framed, as the Knights heads on horse-backe were as high as they, so as conueniently they might behold and speake, as if together, a braue aduantage for Louers. But how did the neate King of Bulgaria take this? truly discreetly, as hee was a most discreet Gentleman, setting aside a little vanitie of selfe loue, which it may be so well concurred with his Ladies disposition, as that tempred him, being as it were of one nature to suffer, and agree with her. Fault it was certaine hee found none with her publikely, how they priuately did, let them speake that know; fondnesse appeared to open shew, why should any inquire further? But be it so, such a passion well acted againe, and by such delicate creatures, for the excellency of it would get liking, euen of her Husband sure, who lo­ued curiosities so well, as he must like that, though curiously he might dis­cerne he was touched in it. But what then? he might ioy in it thus, it was his owne, as she was.

Many great Ladies, and indeed the greatest of that Kingdome sat with her in the same place, but not so much as looked vpon by her, nor why should they expect it? shee was a stranger, a Queene; more, a beautifull Queene, and most, a most proud Queene, shee therefore claimed it as their parts to obserue, and marke her, who had businesse enough in her selfe vpon such a day, in such a place, and such a presence, to heed, and study her selfe. How if any part of her haire had been out of order, her gowne rumpled with turning to them, her ruffes and delicate inuentions disorderd with stirring? had not the least of these been a terrible disaster? Yes, and to her a heart griefe; who would wish so sweet a soule as she to be sad or troubled? espe­cially since trouble as such a conceit of any displacing, or disordering her finenesse might moue in her, would stirre her bloud, and make her comple­ction [Page 463] not so exact, rather sure should all ciuilitie be laid aside, and the contra­ry excused, then beauty should suffer; and this, if the cause, who will that loues their faces, that regards their habits, and their seruants loue, blame her, who neglects for these all others. This I take the Queenes case to bee, and thus I thinke I excuse her, especially being knowne to loue nothing but her selfe, her Glasse, and for recreation, or glory (as some accounts it) to haue a seruant, the Prince of Iambolly, whose greatnesse and finenesse made al well, especially to louers eyes. The old Prince inuited her and the King to a feast, where roially they were feasted, and she as magnificently carried, and shewed her selfe, her seruant ioyed in it, and then looked on her, as poore people doe on pranckt vp Images: she sometimes casting a looke on him, but not too ma­ny, lest such fauours might make him surfeite, and so be harmefull to him, an excellent care in a carelesse Mistris.

The King of Bulgaria, and the Prince of Iambolly were very great and fa­miliar, in so much as they would whisper, and embrace one another, the Iambollian assuredly more, because those armes had intwined hers, then for any affection to him, wishing sure he might as freely haue done the like with his wife, who how kind soeuer she might be to him in priuate, had he offerd to touch her publikely, that touch had burnt his fingers, so commandingly, and peremptorily did she order, and rule his loue, as adoration shewed to bee all his ambition and gaine, her graces being but still to hold, and draw him on in hope, rather then to consent, and satisfie him, for he once satisfied, shee was sure to bee left, men desiring but their ends, and with them conclude that loue flying to another, as from one worke done to begin in another place.

Stayed creatures, and luckie they that put confidence in them, and of any this Prince was one that least troubled himselfe with constancy, all women were pleasing to him, after a tall woman, a little one was most pleasing, after faire, browne, white, blacke, all came to his staidnesse welcomly, and varietie he had sufficient, for many refused not, nor was he nice to demand of more, so as he had plenty, and was plentifull in loue to them; yet here hee stayed a prety while, because it was thought hard to win her, or impossible to gaine her loue, for her so excellent beauty and greatnesse, but most, because as yet he had not surely compassed his desires. At dancing, because hee would not giue offence, he seldome tooke her out, but his eyes still attended on her, and when he danced, she more heeded that dance then any; shee was good her selfe in that exercise, and gained great commendations in Lyuadia. The time being come for the breaking vp of the company, the King and Queene tooke their leaues of the old Prince, and so did all the other Princes, many being there assembled, as a place much honoured, and hee a Prince admired ouer the World, for iudgement, learning and goodnesse; beside at that time ma­ny came neare him from the Enchantment. The Prince of Iambolly would needs attend the King of Bulgaria (being his neighbour) home to his Court, but his daintie wife was the Attraction; his company was embraced and also the Prince of Thiques, who was to returne to his owne Country, a fine young Gentleman, and who had in curtesie conducted the Lady of Rodes after her cruell fortune in the refusall of Polarchos, and being intreated by the soueraignizing Queen to make relation of her end, hauing heard part before [Page 464] by Pamphilia; he did it in this sort. Loue, or rather the ill flower of Loue, which you most incomperable Queene can know, neither being so much in power aboue the highest reach of his passions, which are rather your Sub­iects then molesters, so ouer-ruled in that miserable Lady, as after Polarchos was with all his curstnes gone, she tooke her way also, but whither shee much cared not, nor look'd she for any company to attend her, those that came with her, dispearsed some one way, some another, leauing her, as her fortune had done, in all dispaires, for who euer alone indures one mischeife? I tooke pitty on her, and although my way was contrary, and I then almost at home, yet rather then she should be distressed in such a kind of want, I of­fered my selfe, and she, though not very willing to company, accepted of my seruice; most I thinke, because she would haue some body to discourse with­all, and well had she happened on mee, for shee could say nothing against men, that I had not as much, or more to speake against women. She could not say Polarchos had beene curst, or vnkind, but I cold haue said my Mistris had beene false, and so most cruell: if Polarchos left her vpon cause, mine forsooke me causlesly. She could not complaine, but I was neere rayling, so as with all the wranglings, and dislikes of both Sexes we trauel'd, yet the better I euer had of her, (though in losse) for shee was forced to con­fesse her's was the fault, and with that so often done penitently, at last agree'd with mee, that Man was the constanter of the two vncertain­ties.

When wee had pass [...]d the Gulfe of Lepanto, and the necke of land be­tweene Morea, and Achaia, that we were got againe to Sea, into the Arche­pelago, in one of those little Islands we were forced to stay, for she grew so weake, what with trauell, want of food, (for she would take no sustenance,) and her perpetuall sorrow which wrought incessantly in her, so as she could no longer without rest sustaine, nor so, but to her eternall rest, for there shee dyed desiring mee to bury her there, and then to let Polarchos know her end for his vnkindnes, to whom she gaue her Country for due she said to him, beseeching him to accept of it, as the gift of his repentant Loue, ma­king so louing an end, as Cupid was surely forced vpon that to pardon all things past, and place her in one of his highest ranckes of his Court. Iust as she dyed came thither an other Lady discontented likewise, but in a marue­lous strange sort; my eares were now open to all complaints, and complay­ners, wherefore I gaue her the hearing, who discoursed in this manner.

I was borne said she, in Pantaleria, bred in the seruice of Vrania, now Queene of Albania, the most excellent, and famous of women, I was with her enchanted in Ciprus, and in her seruice, being Daughter to her supposed Father; I fell in loue with one Allimarlus of Romania, a man fit for a greater womans loue, but my fortune it was to winne it, and surely if I flatter not my selfe too grosly, I deserued it; but indeed I did commit some faults, but what were they? only out of Loue, and feare of losse from whence they procee­ded, such errors were rather to be commended then condemned, but where loue failes, a little matter is made great, and nothing pleaseth when distast is taken. I cannot truely for all this, taxe him of much inconstancy, yet so far he was faulty in it, as I know he had a Lady in chase, whether his loue to her, or gratefulnes in him to her had beene the cause of it, I cannot guesse; [Page 465] I was tormented in soule withall, I cryd to him about it; He mildly, and cold­ly enough told me my suspitions made my disquiets, and bad me be satisfied for he lou'd me still, and thus I could gaine no more of him, nor durst I vrge, for intruth besides loue I was in awe of him, fearing his very frowne, though on others; no Louer euer longed more for the sight of his loue then I did stil to see him if absent but one day, yet when I saw him I was in paine, and knew not scarce what I did, I was so desirous to please, as I was amazed, and distemper'd not being able resolutly to call for any thing, to eate any thing, to speake any sence, blush, and then looke pale, and be in such a case, as many dayes after scarce recouer'd me. Lord, how haue I accused my selfe for it? but what remedy? passion ouerruled my iudgement, and when I should haue beene best, and looked best, the very extreamity of my loue, made me worse then ordenarily I was; then that troubled me, and trouble made me worse, so as I was oft times in a straight, whither I were best be a meanes to see him often, or let his visitations, and meetings be by chance. But when I conside­red he might take that amisse, and so I should runne into iust dislike, for our parts (as women Louers) are to obserue, so as I continued like one ready still to goe to execution, condemn'd, but repriu'd; more then I studied how I might gaine his loue sure to me, of purpose I went, and made my selfe so deere with the Lady, who had sure testimony of his liberall affections, as I was made of her Counsell, and vsed in carrying the busines so, as her ho­nour might bee saued, (for shee was in that kind in danger,) I tooke such a course, as shee was deliuered of that care: this I did, conueied away by dili­gence all suspition, I know not what name this seruice merited me, but all things were as they should bee, and so secretly as no mistrust at all was of her.

The Lady in troth I could not but so much loue, as I was sorry, as shee likewise was at any time to part with mee: in the face of parting, me thought I saw my Allimarlus his leauing me, whom he loued, and after I accused for slighting her, as much as I did before for being restrained in this manner to me, for desert should euer merrit reward in what place soeuer, but men care no longer then their desires be answered, said shee, otherwise I had bin better rewarded; I haue had cause to giue trial of my faith, and he hath found it, yet am but more and more wretched.

When I felt my selfe with such neglect coupled, (as after I did) I tould him of it, he sate vpon my bed side, but awhile gaue me not a word, at last he spoke some few, as drawne by necessity from him, and bid me be carefull of my selfe, and not bring more harme. I told him I would be so, were it but for that command's sake, which must bee (as his) aboue all things else most deere to me.

This mooued him no farther, not so much as to looke on mee, but sate still as if he repented I had euer receiued such lies from him, although his be­trothed Wife. Some men would kisse their wiues when they heard such pa­tient replyes, and almost all ioy in it: but hee temperately heard me, as not much concerning him. I was afflicted at it, and did stomacke it as much as my loue would permit me, but what auailed it? I carryed it with infinite paine secret from knowledge, suffering what Beasts neuer doe, yet Christi­an like, I euer stroue to turne my selfe from violent hurt, but being so great with rage as no longer able to conceale it, I retired to some land of an Vncles [Page 466] of his giuen him for his attendance; there I remained, but being neere the Towne, I was so often visited, as it was troblesome to mee, and dangerous for my griefes discouery (for he would haue it conceal'd) I was sometimes forced to keepe my chamber, he desirous not to haue it knowne I was any way his wife, I obeyed, and made many excuses while he ioyed in my paine, thinking it a braue, and dainty thing to be such a sole Lord, and free from en­combrance, for I durst not meddle, nor finde fault with any his actions. He came also, and would bee as ready to iest, as any to cleere himselfe, for hee thought the contrary discouer'd; I was forced to be contented, yet with a full resolution to speake with him about it, & to know why his graue looks, and countenance was vsed to me. I went to him one night, but rightly was I ser­ued for such boldnesse, and presumption, for backe I came with so much scorne, neglect, and contempt, as I was almost mad withall, yet I stroue to make no shew of it, nor I thinke did, although I truely confesse I was much disquieted withall, and so netled, as I slept not all the night after. Could he not said she haue kissed me, bad me welcome, and kindly haue vsed me, but thus? thus to let me returne? neuer more shall he be visited by me, nor did I come then to inuite him want only, or to craue Louers reward, but chast­ly to discourse of things I could not at other times speak of; yet chastly or o­ther, all was one, I was coldly sent home, to warme my selfe in choller for disdaine, nothing so much fretting me as that I staid so long, and waited on his crueltie, as to practise obedience; Not to offer but when I should, nor to come vncall'd I was taught, and these things I thinke I shall put in vse now; I haue beene heere these two Months with some trustie friends, landed here for fresh victualls as I pretended, though neither confin'd by his command, but sent the shippe then away; he likewise hath beene with his Master the King Antissius, but by this time he will be vpon returne, and I will not faile attendance as soone as I can; in Romania, againe relieued by his power, and will. Then did she as one distracted, fall from one passion into another, leau­ing complaining, and chafing, and from crying fell to singing, and twenty of of those passions had she, hauing profited but little in her Mistrisses seruice for louing exactly well, so as little pittie needed to grow for her, vnlesse that one should not long enough enioy such follies to passe away time withall, yet in her case shee mooued more compassion, because greatly distressed. Songs said the Queene, doe often times discouer sadnes. Not such said hee, for I haue beene acquainted with passions as well as any, and know of those kinds of passages. Was she not marryed to Allimarlus said the Queene? In­troth said the Prince I cannot directly tell, she spake not of it much, but by her words I found she was assur'd, yet how did she come then to bee trusted by his Mistris? It may be said the Queene, that was before they were mar­ried, or know to be assured, or such a respect there was to be vsed to her, as she might serue her for all she was his wife. I know not said he, but that went very farre. No way (though endlesse replide she) but will be aduentured, by a firme louer, as I haue learned lately by discourse with some, and of some, though I confesse I should neuer be such an one, but scorne and contemne, such humility. None can expect from you such a harme said hee, where be­nefit is sufficient, if you grace him with accepting his seruice, in which his life should bee spent, rather then you in the least feele smart. She liked his flattery, & he knew it, but very seldome vsed it, because hee was vertuous; [Page 467] then she vrged extreamely to know his discourse; he seemd not able to refuse at last, and therefore told it thus. When I was a very young man, I was like­wise very foolish in being passionate; Loue was such a Lord ouer me, as I did as he pleased, looked as hee did guide me, sighed when hee compelled mee, wept when he let mee fall into despaires, sonnetted when hee inspired mee with it, woare colours for sakes, if hee priuatly told me, I ought so to doe, for fond women loued vaine expressions. I could sit a day but to see her passe by me, and thinke that time happily bestowed if she then cast a look on me, if she passed carelesly by, or worse, accompanied with others she shewed more fauour to, then to mee, I returned molested, and presently put my thoughts into sad Verse, presented them to her, and if thankes came, I was blessed, and most fortunate. Thus I liued, spoild good paper with vild Rimes, lost my time, and wits almost, till I was happily disinchanted by this meanes. The La­dy whom I lou'd being told by me of her neglect, counterfeited that she loo­ked strangely vpon me, out of no other end then pollicy, and afterwards pri­uately sent for me many times, where I enioyed what I desired, and with that reward Nouice like returned so contented, as if I had gained a kingdom, and gaue her by that meanes liberty more freely to abuse me in my confidence, which she did. Another Lady that was daily with hee, and a kind of seruant of hers (for she I loued was great enough, had she been as good) loued mee exceedingly well, and (whether out of that only, or a little malice mixt with it, I know not) discouered to me, that I was wronged: You (said [...]he) keepe a busines, and make all men see your passions, bring your selfe in danger, if her husband heare of it, sigh, and keepe a quoile, while others gaine your due, blinding your selfe with blind Loue against all reason, thinking you are bles­sed, when you are abused; as yesterday I saw what an happy man you tooke your selfe to be, because while Musick was, she leaned on you: alas, shee did that to colour and deceiue you, for all that while her eyes were fixed so amo­rously on another, as would haue, I feare, made you mad to haue seene it, and truly it distemperd me, because I wish you wel: she talked, it is true, to a third, who was as well cousoned as your selfe, for he thought she fauourd you with leaning, to haue the freer liberty vnsuspected to speake to him, and so smild at you, while he that indeed had the affection laughed at you both. Leaue your fond loue, but not louing her, if you find shee requite you, but bee not a stale for others gaine; open your eyes, and see her beauty fit to be admired, her person loued; but if her mind bee not answerably white, bee not caught like Birds in a greene net: I haue truly seene you so much iniured, as I cannot hold from telling you, take it as you please, but one day you will say, I was your friend. When she had said this, she went againe to waite, and I remained pensiue, doubting what to doe, till I was sent for by one of my Ladies Cham­ber to her; there how did she cherish me, and make of me? my picture she must needs haue, because continually she could not haue mee, Verses I must needs make to a tune she then had heard, & lou'd, for no writer pleasd her but my self, so prity, so fine, so passionat my lines were, and so truly from my hart, that she most truly lou'd them.

Then she wrung my hand, hung vpon mee, I embraced her with the other arme, she euen yeelding her self into my breast; Alas, thought I, is it possible this womā shuld dissemble, her eies ouerflowed with loue, laboring to shew suffering, for what I shuld belieue. I was amased, & so perplext, as she swore I [Page 468] loued her not, began to lament her selfe, wept, and cryd; O vnconstant men, faulty aboue expression; then fainted she, and seem'd to swound. I bestirred my selfe then, being in a roome I durst not call for helpe, lest her husband should come in, who was suspicious enough: I kissed her, and with my breath fetched her againe. She againe fainted, I againe reuiued her. At last, Ah my heart, said she, canst thou be cruell? I vowed I was not; with oathes and pro­testations I satisfied her, comming away after some howers a fine deluded Foole. The other Lady I went to find, to whom I meant to speake my mind, and chide her for such tricks to abuse her Mistris, with full intent so to reuile her, as to be f [...]ee euer afterwards from her aduising. As I went along the pri­ny Garden, I saw a man come muffled in his Cloake, stealing as it were along the wall. I knew the fashion (said he) would not be seene, and the place none came into but her Fauorites, therefore to her he must goe, none hauing keyes but by her permission; there was in that Garden a large Mulberry tree, vn­der which I closely clapt my selfe, with my back to it, but face so, as I might see which way he tooke; he slunke along still, till hee came to a doore which opened to a staire led vp to her chamber; there he stood a while, at last a win­dow opened aboue, then he hemd, presently came downe her excellent vn­chast selfe, opened the doore, and tooke him in, locking it fast againe. I seeing this had the Spleene, and sweld, yet held on my determination to seeke the Lady, though the discourse must now be altred. Quietly for any noise (ex­cept that in my heart, where there were stormes, and all maner of disquiets) I went out of the Garden, Alas, said I, could not shee bee satisfied for a little time, but must make me see my misery? this is double vexation. I passed on, and to my chamber I went first, there I fell to complaints, and grieuously tooke on, but all auailed not; I cald my selfe vnfortunate, her vngratefull; I accursed, she vnnaturall; I bewitched, she the Sorceres: I cryd out against my birth, mine eyes, mine owne life, my iudgement, my beliefe, wished I had bin borne an Heritick to loue; all these, and what of these? they made me but stil a greater Foole, and lesse to be pitied. Then I rose in a chafe, vowed to loue her no more, to tell her so, to let her know her offence & breach in loue. This I li­ked, and instantly would put it in practise, and if I found him there to kill him in her presence. These were braue resolutions to dreame on, and as well con­tented me, as if executed, like him that dreames hee hath his Mistris in his armes, and wakes with such pleasure, as he is merry all the day after: so these alike pleased me, as I was ioyed at heart, and thought all effected, while the time it should haue been effected in, slipt away; which when I found, as by the euening I gessed, I went vp againe into the Lodgings, where I met the iust Lady my friend, she had discerned the tricke, being wise, and as carefull as a Louer will be, she came to me, I took her by the hand, which was more then I had euer (till then) done, fearing such a thing might haue offended my Mi­stris, who I knew something giuen to that suspition, makes men see womens loue by, else if carelesse, what should be thought they esteemed. My Lord said she, you haue been wonderously made on this After-noone; What think you, was not I extreame faulty to put any such thing into your head, conside­ring how true shee is to you, and how kind? Can you euer looke on mee that haue thus deceiued you? Take pitie on mee, sigh'd I, I am alas ab [...]sd, and iniured, let not your true tongue be sullied by your selfe, you are [Page 469] and were most iust in telling mee, what I could not else belieue; then did wee discourse a little longer of it, at last forth came the great wicked woman, with as bold a countenance as ill could set vpon one, smild on me, saluted al the rest, and came to me, laying her hand on mine, and after her manner talking to vs, I seemd neither fond, nor neglectiue of her fauours. This is well acted, said she, then cald shee for Musick, which came, and indeed was exceeding rare, songs there were of all kinds, and in seuerall languages, an houre this continu­ed, or more, then she retird again to supper, saying, shee would come after­wards abroad againe. We euery one took our own waies, I to my chamber, purposing soone after to depart for my own country again, my Youth in tra­uell hauing led me to such folly, which nothing but woful experience could bring me to know, or shun; yet me thought I was bound to let her know her ill before my going, le [...]t shee with continuall practise ran too farre in it, and so might at last be dangerous vnto her. As I resolued on this, and was going to her, I met her Lord in a mighty fur [...], his sword in his hand, and bloody; I star­ted at it, my Lord (said I) what is the busines? can my sword or life serue you in any thing? No, said he, I haue done already, only sir if you please call my Guard to me. I went forth and cald the Guard, who straight went as he direc­ted, bringing forth the dead bodies of my Riuall, and the Lady; in truth I was sorry for her, because she had been friendly and kind to strangers, and whose bloud I would haue reuenged, but mine told me, her husband had but righted himself. Then came her women, crying and tearing their haire, them he took and sent to prison, only I got liberty for my friend; and when all this stir was ouer, I took my leaue, and left the Country, and louing also, for the good man telling me how he was wrongd, made me see her damnable falshood, so as he was but the chiefe of many abused by her, we al his followers, and alike vsed; for in the very abusing him, he seased on them, & kild them both. This (great Queene) is a story scarce fit for your Excellency to heare; but this is the truth which you desired, and thus you haue it; now if men be faulty, you see wo­men can be so likewise; if wee erre, your sex will not let vs passe vnrequited. The Queene said little to it, but on they went in their iourny, much kindesse, affection, and respect vsed, and increasing among them; at last in Bulgaria they arriued, where at the first entry they were entertaind with multituds of people to welcome them, the King liked it well, so did the Queene for the part of humilitie, but shee could not indure their rudenes in pressing, which she said made her hot, and the smell of the folkes troubled her, whose dainti­nes could not brooke any sauour but perfumes; with little patience therefore she sufferd this hearty welcome.

To their great citie they came, there they were againe met with the chief, and people, but she was now vsed to it, and so a little the easelier boare it. Then the King feasted the Prince of Iambolly, and triumphs were made, which lasted sixteene daies, in which time the seruant and proud Mistris had many prety fine passages. A hunting they went, he attending her, who some­times would bee fierce vpon it, another while rid softly, as if onely to make him learne to ride fast, or slow, as her pleasure was, but still to bee her atten­dant, it was his principall lesson to obserue. At her comming backe to see her ride betweene her husband and her seruant, what a sight it was? but what a glory to her? onely her imaginations which were aboue any height of pride [Page 470] could tell; but he must goe now to his owne command, a pitifull thing, yet necessary, he could not dissemble, but shewed with a sad or dull countenance he was sorry; she with Maiestie and greatnesse, but no mirth, gaue testimo­nie shee reioyced not, if in this time hee had no strickt assurance of her loue, none will pitie his parting: howsoeuer, she carried her selfe like a braue and commanding Queene ouer her owne and his passions. The King brought him some part of his way, then parting louingly, and some thought most wil­lingly on the Kings side. The Prince, with the Prince of Thiques going to­gether, who after, neuer, or seldome parted: the King returned, and with his wife liued as such a couple could doe.

Leonius and his beautifull Veralinda returning towards Frigia, first going to Argos by the Kings directions, wherein they met a delicate Aduenture, as they were within some few leagues of the Sea, a Lady on horseback, atten­ded on with many other Ladies, and as many Knights, but by her side rode one, who seemed to be the chiefe, and yet his countenance sad, and melan­cholly said for him, that he commanded not himselfe, how euer hee did the rest, his Hat off, freely left to view a delicate curld head of haire, browne, but bright in delicacy, a faire forehead; amorous, though then sad eies, which yet in sadnes soueraignized: his mouth not needing to speake, but only seene al­lured vnto it what hearts it pleased, to take and refuse; enough he had of each sort, his lips being so louely, and louingly ioyned, as one may belieue, would not willingly part from their mutuall kissing. The Lady was great, and there­fore faire, full of spirit, and intising, pleasing and richly shee was attired, and brauely seru'd, an excellent hors-woman, and hunts-woman she was, though these be no properer commendations, as some haue said, then to say, a man is a fine Semster, or Needle-man, yet qualities that were, and are commended at this day, allowed of, and admired.

When they came nearer to them, they sent to know, if they might bee so bold to present themselues vnto them, whom by inquiry they had obtained knowledge of. The new louing couple admitted them, Veralinda kissing the Lady, and Leonius embracing the Knight. Veralinda then soone after askt the Lady, what those many Doggs and Bowes were for, which she perceiued amongst them. She answered, they were her Hounds, and that shee was go­ing to hunt, when her better fortunes brought her to her presence; the Bowes were either if a Stag came fairely to her, to shoot at him, or to saue the Dogs from death at a bay, by giuing his death to him. Veralinda had neuer seene hunting, and therefore was desirous to enioy that sport. Leonius was as well pleased, because hee was best pleased when giuing her content; the old King trauelled on, the young folkes promising soone after to ouertake him. The Lady then brought these dainty Princes to a large Wood, about the sides they placed themselues, the Doggs and Hunts men were put into it to beate, and bring forth the Deare, which in short time the Hounds came forth with a mighty Stagge, the Hunts-men following, incouraging their Doggs with Voyce and Horne, that Veralinda thought, this Consort was the delightfulst that euer her eares had heard; and such life it put into her, as she spared nei­ther horse nor way, but followed with great affection the sport through Woods, ouer Plaines; through Thicks, Brakes, ouer Hills, no place staid her. The Lady kept with her, and commending her euen vnto a fury for riding: [Page 471] at last by a Pond side, where the Stagge had taken soile, he gaue a bay to the Doggs, then came in the sweete sad Gentleman, and with so temperate a brauery, shot the Beast, as euen his hurt reioiced him, turning his face to him fully beholding him, and as his last piece offerd himselfe a sacrifice vnto him, falling by degrees as a great house will doe, but yet runnes to the place it came from: so to the earth fell hee, Veralinda was then cald to take the say, shee was ignorant of those ceremonies, yet apt to learne, and willing to in­struction, she did as she was directed. Then the Hounds must bee rewarded, and the Hunts-men giue him a peale of Hornes melody, in stead of Bells harmony, for his funerall.

All which ended, the Lady besought the Prince and Princesse to honour her so much, as to goe with her to her house, which, not farre off, was [...]it to lodge in, night being growne vpon them. They consented, and rode thither, where they found an ancient house hansome, great, and where it seemd good hospitalitie was kept, but little curiositie obserued, for all roomes appeared, as still visited with company, and gaue by the fauours testimony of quantity of victuals, which well ordred, had been noble, now a little troublesome; but it pleased reasonably well this company, who free, and hauing rid hard, had gaind good appetites, it appearing to them like a Garden full of fruite, when the hot weather troubleth them, they sat downe, the Lady most kindly, free­ly and busily bestirring her self, entertaining them the fine Gentleman ciuil­ly discoursing with them; Leonius at last growing so farre in with him, as he got him to tell this story.

I am great Prince (said he) called Curardinus, borne of a good Family in this Countrie, beloued and serued; but as all things must see conclusions, so did Fate appoint our greatnesse to conclude thus. My father liued after his fathers death many yeares, will esteemed of by the King o [...] these Countries, emploid in office by him, and held among the best in ranke of his fauour, but matching himselfe (after the death of his first wife) with a young Lady of a great and noble family, but too great as the King imagined, or was perswa­ded by his enemies, suspition grew into his heart, or rather shewed it selfe (for few Kings are without that seruant to attend them) against my father, who to auoide all cause giuing left the Court, and retird himselfe to his owne home, where he liued pleasantly, and was for an addition of his happinesse blessed with children, a blessing to a father, what euer the being borne, proue after to the children. I was his first, and after some yeares before I came to perfectablenesse to gouerne his estate, at least according to the lawes of this place; hee died, leauing mee heire to his fortunes, honors, and dislikes of the King: I then desired leaue to trauaile, that was refused me, and all things as offices, commands and places soeuer my father held of the Crowne, giuen away to others. This was a disgrace, and truly a vexation vnto me, and most, that hee would not permit mee the fauour granted to euery sub­iect, but obedience taught mee patience, and I was contented by neces­sitie.

In this forst pleasure, I went vp & down among my friends where I was de­sird, and so liu'd a solitary and priuate trauelling life, where remouing imita­ted trauell; and each odde accident an Aduenture. By my mothers side I had, and haue many noble, and braue friends as any man can haue, the men [Page 472] equally, or aboue any valiant, and wise, the woman in that height of excel­lency for beauty and witt; among them I haue much liued, who haue found the like fauour, so as we are not only neere it in blood, but allyed in thwart fortune, kept backe by all meanes from any aduancement, or honor, vnlesse the imployment were such as might giue a blow, if not a certaine ruine to any of vs, (a comfortable estate when Subiects liue in such dislike with their Prince:) yet did he vse vs openly well; let vs come to waite vpon him, wee shall be welcom'd, and smil'd vpon sometimes, but aske any thing, and bee surely denyed, & after, not for a good space look'd on: this hath cast vs much downe, and greeued vs more then hurt vs. Are you a single man said Leonius? No Sir, replyed the dainty melancholy, I am married, and haue beene long, the more my misfortune in some kind, because I haue with that marryage lost one, loued me more then I could aspire to hope of requitall, and loue's me still; I was not altogether to blame indeed, for I knew not her affection so great to me, she not aduenturing to speake it, I not thinking my selfe so hap­py, daring to imagine it, but after some time she tould me of it. How did I then curse all my fortunes, and yet at last chid my selfe for it? since said I, I was borne to be wretched, and all other crosses haue beene but as forerun­ners of my misery; this the only Master peece of affliction, wee met, & wept many times together, and yet those teares produced pleasure, because so shed, and then we could be merry, and neuer but in the highest griefe conten­ted, because together, for therein our last happinesse consisted. But her fa­ther marryed her (whose iudgement told her, obedience was requisite) to a rich, but worthlesse fellow; this was an other vexation to her, and doubly by that meanes it wrought in me, to see her greeued, and such a Clowne to posses what I most loued, and held deere, he no more esteeming her, nor in­deede vnderstanding her worth then a Beast, or one of his Goats. Miserable Lady, but most miserable I, that saw, and could but grieue for it; besides this, he grew yet more brutish, and vsed her ill, growing so intirely iealous, as none went away vnsuspected, her worth, beauty, and noblenes, inuited all eyes, and hearts to her seruice, but so chast, and iust she was, as but with cour­teous requitall any preuailed; but her worthlesse Mate thought so ill of himselfe, as that made him thinke well enough of any to wrong her withall, Iealousie's roote being selfe knowledge of vnworthynes.

Thus most sweete Creature she liued, discontents brought her to many harmes, bringing diseases, and (the worst) sicknes of mind, finding still ad­ditions to her first disquiet, and miserable losse, as her affection was pleased to call the missing of me, which surely she could neuer haue know, had I but guessed her thoughts. A good space I held in with him, but at last fell like the rest, and most dangerously; in that time I met her, my hearts ioy, and soules delight; at her fathers, she was sad, but most louing to me, I sad to see her so, but most glad to see her loue, holding her (I remember) by the hand, if said I thou wert vnmarryed, would'st thou not marry againe? No I protest said she, but liue wholy to be directed by you, which I had euer don, had I knowne how to liue with honour, and fit to be your seruant. Yet should you bee free, you would not doe so much. Yes I vow said I, and bound it with a kisse vpon her fairest hand; deerest remembrance, how dost thou yet please me, to bring before me these pass'd, yet sweete delights? to [Page 473] make tryall of her faith, and word keeping, she was by heauenly assistance vn­tyed from her bond, and freed from her clog, the rude and brutish Thing, her Husband, being taken from her, no hand, but the hand of the best, and highest parting her; as from aboue seeing, and commiserating her estate; all that were vnmarryed in the whole Country, came and sought her, shee re­fused all; Widdowers, Batchelers, all were alike to be denyed; old, young, middle-aged runne one race of being refused. Her father much disliked it, her friends, and kindred, and such perswaded, but endlesly her resolution, was like the Earth fixed, and her constancy like the Sunne certaine, and rich­ly faire: some also came to me, (seeing the grace I had with her) to get mee to preferr them; alasse how far they went astray? yet I answer'd all of them alike, that she had resolued to marry (if euer) one of her owne affections chusing, so what with my slight answers, and her direct refusalls, she, and I were left quiet, and so in truth we were, for her Husband left her happliy, both by his losse, and a faire estate hee gaue her at his end, to make amends partly for the ill she had indured.

To her I often went, and stayed as long as I could, and neuer found her displeased but for my parting, what blessing can any on Earth wish to equall such a blisse? and this I inioyed, and might still haue done, but; With that he sigh'd, aud look'd so deadly pale, as if that But had beene the Axe to take away his life. Leonius desired him to proceede. He turned his face (they before both leaning against a Table) to the Boord, and hung downe his head ouer it, groaning as if his breath had beene in contention with his body to goe, or to be stay'd; at last Leonius likewise leaning downe [...] and earnestly perswading with him, he lifted vp his eyes on him, (eyes that would con­quer in what looks so euer they pleased to attyre themselues,) and putting his hands together, Oh my Lord said he, be contented with this you haue. As they were thus in intreatyes, and excusings, Veralinda came, and the La­dy, so as they were now brought to a conclusion, and for that night parted, the Lady with much Ceremony (as excellent she was at it) bringing the Princes to their Chamber, then all parted to their rests, but the swe [...]est sad­nes, who remained all night as his expressions of his fortunes shewed he had beene troubled. When day came he rose, and went downe into a Garden, there he walked, and let the hower slip away vnthought on as his steps, Le­onius longing for the end, sought him out, and finding him, would needes haue him goe on.

Then Sir said he, I must beginne againe with But such was my misery, as I fell into a great, and strict acquaintance with this Lady, which she did dis­like, though not me, as since I vnderstand, but then did belieue, by reason of some slight carriages she shewed me, but causlesly I did mistrust her, and o­penly leaue her. She that had none of the lowest, but rather highest spirit of the World, yet humbled it selfe to seeke me, vngratefull I, accepted it not; a Iourney I was then to goe, in which shee writ to mee affectionately, and kindly as euer, which I tooke well, and writ to her a letter that she liked, vp­on which she made a perfect answere, and as amorousan one as she had euer written, and they were excellent as any in that kind could be: but this came not to my hands till tenne Months after, and then by the meerest accident in the world. When I read it, I saw her loue, and the crosse fort [...]ne still [Page 474] that attended it, I was sorry I had abused such noblenes, and resolued if shee would receiue me to offer my selfe againe. In this resolution I went where she was with a friend, and kinswoman of hers, I met her abroad walking, and striuing to make my selfe acceptable, looked with my old lookes vpon her, she with the same I had bin blessed with, receiued me; then I told her I had receiued a Letter from her, but it boare a long date, shee said shee was sorry I had not had the meanes by that, sooner to haue knowne her mind, I smild as glad of her loue, she euen reioyced at it, but yet such habit I had got of strangnes as I could hardly get my selfe out of it. But to assist mee in this busines, a Feauer tooke me, what kindnes did she then expresse? leauing all businesses, her owne house, and all, suffering where she was (though most welcome) many inconueniences, and all for me, tending me her selfe, and being so louing a Nurse to me, as I recouered within short time; since wee haue beene good friends, and shee so perfectly good, as shee let all pass'd faults on my side dye, and vnremembred passe; taking the new returne in the place of it, and satisfaction in that for the other, without questioning of it.

Thus it continued, and doth, but I haue beene lately with her, and lef [...] her not so well as I desire she should be, but such accidents haue befallen vs both, as I am forced not to shew how much I loue her, nor she how willing to embrace it; counterfeit awhile we must, though I cannot in my counte­nance but shew what my heart feeles. Discouer said the Prince likewise that, and you will be better eased. I will sooner dye said he, leauing my selfe a pure offering to her trust, then betray her, she hath commanded and I will obay, and in that merrit some fauour iustly from her, shortly I hope to heare what most I couet from her, and if I be happy, most braue Prince you shal know it, for I will attend you at your owne Court, and if the contrary hap­pen, I hope yet you will permit [...]y sadnes a receite, the one shall bee an ho­nour, the other a charity.

The Prince would not vrge any more, hauing so [...]oble, and free a pro­mise from him vnasked, but told him hee trusted he should finde those sad lookes turned into as much ioy, which hartily he wished, and the time came when he should be freed from sorrow, and himselfe made happy with the story'es end, which he much, and infinitly desired the knowledge of. The two Ladyes came into the Garden also, to recreate themselues a little be­before dinner, the delicate Princesse hauing libertie, granted to the Lady her demand, in her story of her pass'd Aduentures, the Lady being to re­quite her, told her thus. I a [...] said she that vnhappy Lisia, who was by birth, and greatnesse of estate, sought before I had knowledge, and giuen before discretion was appearing in me, to a great Lord; I thought it (as most wo­men doe) a gay matter to be great, a Duches me thought was a rare thing, and a braue busines: but all that while I marked not the Duke, who was, and is, as dull a piece of flesh, as this, or any Country neede know; besides he hath had such vnsufferable passions, and passages with me, as truely if I had not giuen my selfe to hunting, and such delights abroad, to take away the trouble I had at home, I must haue suffered like a Martyre vnder his churlish­nes, but I relolued to alter him likewise if I could, and so I wrought my selfe to worke with him, as I got the hand with much a doe ouer his Syco­fants, [Page 475] all of them I turnd away, hauing liberty to vse my will, for I had gained him by perswasions, oathes, and iustifications sufficient for his capacity [...] to right my selfe against those had iniured me, and so to continue a kind wife, as he would be an husband to me: these conditions gaue me such liberty, as twenty foure seruants in one day I put away, and placed such of mine owne, or friends as I best liked, and knew, would and must be iust to me, their friends being ingaged for them. Then I reclaimed him from ill company, I meane inferiour to him, which he naturally had best loued; and as if a new molded him, so as in troth he deserued (and doth) respect from me, and that hee shall haue; the Court I confesse I loued well, I brought him (though not to like it himselfe) to let me be there when I would, and priuately he would come vn­to me; the Princesse I serued, a Lady faire and louing, but something variable and changing, as her fauour was to me; for I being of her chamber, in great fauour and grace, fell into the most bitter dislike, and disgrace, that euer any did.

Causes she alleaged, but an easie thing it is to frame such; yet the worst thing she did to me, and which I tooke indeed to the heart, was, shee mistrus­ted I loued a brother of hers, who she neither much cared for, nor esteemed my honour; shee made a young braue Lady likewise acquainted with all, whom she did command to attend on her, and in the last part of the euening, or rather in the night they came into the Garden, where if I had been gone to his chamber, as shee imagined [...] I must needs to my owne lodging passe through in my returne. All the doores they locked double, and bolted the others that had not such locks on them, walking vp and downe to catch me, who surely they imagined a very kind woman, to goe so farre to a seruant, whose part it had rather been to come to me; but they watched, and the truth is, I was in another garden on the other side, but not with him, yet being that way, suspition said, I was guilty, so vpon likelihoods I was condemnd. To the doore I came, and thinking to find the place as I left it, I boldly put my key to vnlock it, but it would not doe, mine was but single, my enemies double. I at first found it not, but seeing I could not open it, I tried againe, and then plain­ly discernd, some had been there after me, yet I did not dreame of the Prin­cesse. Presently (my tampering hauing giuen them the allarum) I might heare them whisper, the Lady spake a little louder, as of purpose that I should speak to her. I did iust as she desired, and fell into the trap as they wished, for I cried, Who is there? Tis I, said she. I pray open the doore, said I. I will do you more seruice then that, said she: where with she opened it, the Princesse of this plot and place standing close by her. I started when I saw her. How doth my Bro­ther, said she? I told her, her Highnes was deceiued in me. I am not, answered she, but I haue been; for I tooke you to haue been good and vertuous, the contrary this action shewes you to be. I protest (cryed I) I am innocent of ill, and free from this wrong you accuse me of. The way, time, & your attire condemnes you (said she), why should you vndrest in night habits, at this late houre, and alone walk abroad, & iust this way towards his lodgings, none els lying in those parts, were it not to him? the world besides had such a conceit, and you knowing it, your part had bin to auoid al cause, or shadow of cause to mistrust you, rather then to runne into the open mouth of danger, and plaine discouerie. I saw her so violent, I besought her yet in mercy and pity [Page 486] of womens honour, which could be no fame to her to ruine, whatsoeuer she conceited of me, yet to spare me to the world.

Shee smild scornefully, and said, she was not of the trade of my counsell-keepers, who knew of [...]y going to him in mans apparrell before that time, and so flung away. I was in truth troubled exstreamely with it, and spake to the Lady to bee my friend in it. Shee protested freely, and brauely shee would doe me any seruice in that, or any other thing, and that it was first vnknowne to her what the pretence was, [...]onely dutie taught her to o­bay, after vtterly against her will to proceede in it. But what mends had I? the Princesse told it to euery one, and which madded mee most to this braue Gentleman you saw with me, who at that time, and by her meanes wholly, had not so good an opinion of me, as now he hath, nor had I so much respect to him, yet I loued him euer, shee I thinke did so too, and in no better a kind, then shee thought I did her brother. But I am charitable, and I thinke no ill was done, for I am sure he is noble and good. Vpon this I left the Court, and with me, or presently after me fearing tricks (for who how vertuous soeuer can preuent so odde, and deuillish a plot as this was) all, or the greatest part of the Ladies went from thence, euen she, who then was so deare vnto her in lit­tle more grace, then my selfe, leauing her attended on with her chamber, and those enough to be vsed ill. She then grew melancholly, and at last sought company, some she got together, but of what sort? those that were of the age before, who hauing young minds rumbled vp their old carcases, and rubd ouer their wrinckling faces like old wainscot new varnished: and little swee­ter was some of their beauties. But these serued to fill vp places, and adorne a chamber of state, like ill Pictures, yet brauely guilt and set forth make as good a shew, though but glassed, as the cunningst. piece of worke, if not to iudging eies: an noise they also made of mirth, banqueting and inuiting com­pany, but all would not serue, the glaringst signe, or greatest bush, drawes not in the best company: no more did they make the Court much the fairer. Dance they did, and all ridiculous things that ancient, but young made wo­men could inuent to do. I came again, hauing liberty to behold thē, but neuer any more to serue in ordinary. Lord how I admird the alteration, and the place, being changd from what it was, as much as from a Court to a Play­house: She vsd me indifferently wel, and I took it so, enuying none but the La­dy whom I was a little in aw of, but not for that I did grudge at her, but repi­ned to see her blest, as I imagind, since I haue gaind what I fear'd she had, or if she had, I haue gaind it from her; yet alwaies braue Princesse be confident I am chast, and vntoucht of ill action, how euer they haue laid my reputation low, but I forgiue them now, nor iudge amisse of my liberall discourse, your freedome hauing inuited me to it My Lord (good man) was glad of my dis­grace, because it brought me home as he thought, yet I so tampred with him, as he thought at last it was not in earnest, but a plot betweene vs; so to the Court I went when I pleased, or told him I would go, though sometime ano­ther way I went, yet lately I haue liued most at home, and stil resolue to doe, though with little content in him; and because you shall see I haue not too much cause to be fond of him, when you come into the house, seeme earnest to see him (for that he loues) and then shal your highnes on my word behold a man fit only to make a good husband of, & so far to be belou'd, as not con­temnd.

[Page 477]They went in, the Princesse hauing her lesson, desiring earnestly to see the Master of the Horse before her going. He came, but such a creature twas, his pace so vncertaine going towards her, but looking backe, as if asking his men if he did well, or no; a wide smile he had, which if a little noise had been ad­ded to it, might haue been a plaine laugh. When he was close by her, he took her hand, and put it to his mouth, but his teeth instead of lippes met it; shee gaue him many thankes for her entertainement, he tooke her thanks it seemd well, but replyd onely with his former girning [...] at last with a great businesse and champing [...] as if on the Bit, he brought out as many words, as he askt her, how she liked Hunting. She answerd, very well, and best of any sport; hee was so ioyed with that, as he laughed right out, and with gladnesse driueld, that none could blame the Lady, if she liked not much to kisse that Ganimead. As thus they were, some beholding him, the Princesse admiring his foolish ignorance, and ill-fauordnesse, some others marking the power she had ouer her selfe, to hold from so little scorne, as to smile at him, a great noise was heard below in the Hall, and an Esquire of the old Frigian King came in, cry­ing out for helpe, his Lord was taken prisoner, and carried towards the Sea. Leonius cald to arme, Veralinda for her horses, the delicat disquieted would a [...] tend them, till they saw freedom on al parts flourishing again; the Lady of the house tooke her leaue of them there, and so they past, Leonius poasting after the King, the Princesse accompanied with her Knights, and the Noble Dis­cōtent held on towards the sea to gaine her ships: but being to passe a thickest wood, it was their fortunes first to light vpon the Aduenture, for in the thick of that place they heard voyces, and Veralinda led by perfect knowledge, or naturall affection, knew her fathers tongue, when vpon the telling her fine sad companion, he with some fiue or six of her Knights rushed in, they found the King bound, a great ring of armed men about him, and some sixe or seuen women (for Gentlewomen I cannot call those, vsed such cruelty) with great rods whipping him, hauing stripped his vpper part; he complaining, and pi­tifully crying, the strips being sore, and painefull to his royall body. This timely rescue flew in among them, who were much amased at the surprise, yet being many, & bolder on their number, then any other cause they had to hope of their victory, encountred our daintie distressed so rudely, as he was put to his best in armes; but then so brauely did he behaue himselfe, as he had with his own hands disarmd and ouercome three, but his fiue assistants were ouerth [...]owne, he then himselfe fought against the rest, not without great ha­zard, but such were the blowes, and fury among them, as they cald helpe, as­sisted with the Kings cryes, who all this while the fight lasted, was tormented excessiuely with those Furies, as meaning to take their full reuenge, or as much as they could. Leonius was brought in to the place, but what fury came he possest with all? those women altogether could not imitate, much lesse equall (yet women inraged they say are Deuils. Happy this arriuall was to the valiant as exquisite Solitary, both being ioynd, the rest fainted, and so the victory came on their side. Then Leonius and his to be admired companion went to the King, taking away his Baiters and Chaines, clothing him againe, and dressing the stripes he had receiued, which had wept blood for vnkind­nesse, both pulling off their Helmets to take aire the sad Knight shewing so delicate a hand, as if his blowes had not been witnesses of his strength, one [Page 478] would haue fear'd, so Ladi-like, a beautifull, and dainty shapt hand could not haue sufferd such stresse; but the wonder was taken away then, when conclusi­on was made, that the noblest hart commanded the fairest, and fiercest hand; he had such a hart, and so valiant and happy a hand to execute his commands with al. Veralinda came in also, and with teares manifested the sorrow she had for her fathers mishap, couering his stripes with soueraign ointments she ne­uer went without: then they examind the cause of this outrage. One of them (the chiefe it seemd among them) telling her story thus. I am (said she) of this Country, and haue a Castle hard by, whither this vngratefull King should haue gone, had not your accursed succor, and my too rash beginning of his iustly merited punishment hindred me; he knowes my name and quarrell; yet some part I wil tel you to auoid thought of vnreasonablenes in me. I lou'd this king (not I do protest for his being a king, but mearely out of affection) my loue growing to him, at my being in his Court at a great triumph there, whi­ther the Princes of this country went, & I waited on. He cast his eies vnluckly on me also, and gaue me such inuitations to his loue, as I could not but accept and yeeld; opportunity yet serued not, I being to wait so neare my Lady, and she who liked the king as well, but not so truly as I did, watching me, fea [...]ing that, she desird to haue her self. Thus vnfortunatly I was again to part, and so without any more then amorous looks, & such manifestings as outward shew could giue, we were deuided; when I came back, how did I curse my fortune? for my loue was run beyond the tye of chastity, and I was a meere louer; I ac­cusd my self, for thus thought I, I might haue enioyd him, by this meanes I could (if I had not bin a natural foole) haue compast my desires, none could haue preuented this plot, had I not bin a ranke coward; the night was left me, why did I loose so many, and gain nothing but restles times, tossing and tum­bling in my own fansies? and so many did I then get together, as made a ma [...] of vanity, calling infinites of conceits together. In al these vnquiets, a match was offerd me, I was mad, and knew nothing but mine owne passions; in that distemper I gaue consent, and was maried, but stil my affection was tied, and wedded to this king, this king of vngratefulnes and cruelty. A wife I liued, and yet a maid, my husband somtimes chafing, somtimes telling me, he thought I kept that Iuell for another: many suspitions this bred in him, and furnished as many crosses for me, at last at the end of three yeeres, this vnconstant, and vnworthy king came hither, he was feasted and welcomd by the Prince and Princesse, who saw not me with strait looks; doubting me still; but I refrained not the Court for al that, my hart telling mee a dram of ioy in his sight was more cordiall, then vialls ful of her disgraces could be hurtful to me. He liked my sight as well, and then being resolud to loose no opportunitie, but rather make and find meanes, wee met, and I did freely let him haue knowledge of my constancy. He was (it seemd) rauisht with ioy, and beyond al others, loue fond of me, neuer being at rest, but when with me. A Gentleman there was in his company who had lik'd me wel, and as far as he durst had sought mee, for he was bashfull, and I must confesse I was proud, besides louing another. To this man the king (not being able to hide or conceale his happines) tels al. When he had it (guessing as I belieue it was, and am confident he knew it to be me) he came to me, and after discourse of him, and how good, and firme a Louer he was, besides his earnest, and passionate pursuing, he brake out into [Page 479] how happy and fortunate a man he was in his choice, telling me my whole story, and all that had passed; with all (said he) when he told it me, O (cryd I) that I might but know such a Loue to mee, though presently I had died; and surely so I should, for I were not able to enioy such a ful blessing. Did he tell you this story (said I) sure there is no such thing? Yes certainely, answered he; & he is so wrapt in the heauen of it, as he cannot contain himself: but who it is, I know not; for he only termd her a wench he lou'd, & who so dearely lo­ued him, as for his sake she had liu'd a Maiden-wife, & would haue euer, had she not enioyd him. I was angry at it, yet then so much I lou'd him, as though resolued to let him know, how ill I tooke his discouering my secrets to any, though in a third person; yet when I saw him-I forgaue it, and pitied him for louing me so much, I not being able, as I imagind, and vndervalued my poore self, to deserue such an affectiō, nor truly shuld I haue altred my mind for any thing, had he not cruelly, vildly, & scornfully vsd me; that changd me indeed, and hath turnd my hart so much against him, as euer since I haue fully assured of his disdaine, vowed reuenge, and plotted for it, though I had gone into his country to execute it, which I was preuented of by notice of his comming hi­ther, where I way-laid him at his comming, but I grew tender again, and let him passe; yet when he was past, I repented, and as loue increaseth loue, so the hate I had, conceiud, & grew increasing in me with euery touch of memory of those passages, & now without al purpose of kindnes I took him, & with all cruelty meant to haue continued tormenting him, priuatly keeping as I pur­posed his Maiesty for my recreation to see him torturd, who so vncharitably cast me off, defamd, & forsook me; the last, being to vs indeed the sharpst blow but telling, with that she flew at him again to scratch him, other hurt she could not do him, To tel, cryd she, & forsake me to? They held her, & with much a­do after by the kings permission, but earnestly coniuring Veralinda to pardon her, she had her liberty, and so returnd to her Castle. The King like al men, at sometimes, or other for such iniuries whipt, though inwardly with as bitter strips held on his iourney for Frigia, where he most safely arriued, and with all content and happinesse hee with his daughter, and sonne in law passed their dayes together. The valliant, and discreete Gentleman returned to the Lady againe, with whom he spent most of his pretious time attending what he desired, which was accomplished to his minde, and left to him to make his owne vse of, so as he might be pleased if he pleas'd. Amphilanthus being in the morning vp, & ready to goe to his long'd for busines, to add by that, new, & more honor, as kingdoms to his crown, the Qu. Pamphilia with her counsell, & Noble men came vnto him, whom she found attended on by his Princes, who were all, or most known to her, the rest made her seruants by his respect vnto her; there she saw prouisiō for the fight, while she had as cruel a combat within her, & more terrible, because her feare proceeding frō her loue made more dangers then blowes could be stroken between them. She saw not one peece of his armour that was not cut through in tendernes of her heart, and that bleeding for it. The Prince of Transiluania was looking on his sheild, which she casting her eyes vpon. O said she that that were as true, & firme in mettle, as my hart is in truth, then would it nere be pierced. Polarchos was curiously ouerlooking the armour, to see it secure; euery piece shee blessed with her soules wishes, and euery pinn had a prayer for the strength of it so much goodnesse wishing it well, danger must n [...]eds be farre off.

[Page 476]The Emperour marking her, had inwardly new power, and might giuen him by her constancy, and strong affection, forth they went, excellent, and rich Barges being ready to conuey them ouer the Lake, being on the other side: they parted, the Queene backe againe to her Castle, where she might (if deerenes in loue would permit her) see the combate, which was not doubted, but assured she could not suffer her eyes though louing them best when they saw him, at this time giuen them liberty to doe; but certainely her soules eyes in prayer beheld him more profitable surely at this time, for he had no child to play withall.

The Emperour tooke his horse, the State and Counsell of Pamphilia way­ting on him, as he mounted on horse-backe, whether by chance, or of pur­pose the horse trampled, and turned vp, and downe so, as his face towards the Lake, and Castle, he sent kind lookes after her, which that while (her eyes wayting on him) with comfort brought vnto her, and made hers melt, because they parted so; he rode into the field vnarm'd, his twelue Princes carrying his armes. Polarchos being his Chamberlaine, came next his Person, and the Prince of Transiluania carryed his Crowne, the Duke of Branswike, Bauaria, Lorraine, Sauoy, Sax, Millan, the Prince of Venice, and the rest car­ried the Armour, Launce, and led the spare horse.

Into the head of the Army he rode, which stood in battaile, hee saluted them, they exprest ther ioy to see him in all Souldier-like fashion, before them he stood ready to arme, when they discern'd from the other side the King, with as much magnificence as was possible for him to shew; when they were thus in the head of each Army, he sent to intreate some speech of the Emperour, he courteous, and yet bold as any, granted it, and so they came towards each other, taking one a peece with them, the Emperour, Po­larchos; the King, the Master of his Horse. They beheld each other like Lyons, stirring no way, but their eies followed as part of their Armes, and then the most curious part. The King of Celicia first put vp his hand to his hat, but that motion was enough to make the noble Amphilanthus ready as soone as hee, to giue, and take salutation. The King said it was not vnknown vnto him, he was sure why he came, and in that sort, but the desire, and reason of this meeting was, that he might see his Person before the fight, who was held the brauest Prince liuing, and his Riuall, but with greater happines because beloued by her. If this be true replide the Emperour, your cause is the more vniust, since you would force so excellent a Queene to take you contrary to her owne affection as you confesse, and mine must needs be more irreconciliable, since heere you pronounce a quarrell neuer to be taken vp, seeking to take my Mistris from me, therefore if this be your end of meeting, let vs part to meete on surer tearmes.

The King gaue consent, hauing now said, he seene the man so much admi­red, I am satisfied till I haue conquered him. With that they turn'd, and arm'd them selues, the Drums, and Trumpets making such harmony, as were enough to lift the hearts of Cowards vp to spirit, this little needing to the Emperour, whose heart and body was all worth, and valour: the King was likewise soone arm'd, and the Armies by order commanded to vnarme, being left only as Court beholders, no shew of warr, except in the fashion of their cloathes, and bands. The King of Celicia was in Oring couler, the Em­perour [Page 471] in crimson, Spite on the one side, Reuenge on the other. The en­counter was faire, and terrible, both their horses at the breaking shrinking vnder them, but the Celician after falter'd, and reel'd, so as hee leap'd from him. Amphilanthus lighted, and so they met on foote, when no Art, or vallour procured by iust disdaine, and rage was wanting. The King had with a blow clouen the Emperour's sheild, so as vnvsefull he threw it from him, in requitall, making such a breach in his armour on the right side, as there sparng out so much blood, as might wash away the others losse. Both feare­lesly, and furiously fighting, for themselues, not fearing, only tending the cause that brought them thither.

At last Amphilanthus found an aduantage by the Kings lifting vp of his right arme, to giue him a deadly blow, which though he failed of, the Em­perour missed not the oportunitie, but ran his Sword into him crosse-wayes through his body; the King stood still with the blow, the Emperour beheld him, sorry he had kill'd him, as his sword goar'd he perceiued hee had, then suddenly, and reelingly he ran with his last fury vpon him. Amphilanthus could haue auoyded him, but he only strake downe the thrust, and caught him in his armes, casting him selfe downe with him, in the falling, yeeld said Asdrusius; thou art deceiued poore man said Amphilanthus, with that Asdrusius lifted his arme vp, as to haue one blow more, but death then ceased on him, so as embraced with an enemies curtesie he dyed. Amphilanthus ry­sing, and putting the body from him, the Princes of both sides came in, and the victory easily iudged, the body was deliuered to the Celicians, with li­berty to depart, Melisander being deliuered, the Emperour with all honor conducted towards the Queene, who with more then ioy, or gladnes, met him where she parted from him with delicate musique, and tryumphant glo­ry, bringing him into the Castle, and so to the Galleryes, where he was vn­arm'd, and his wounds most gently, tenderly, and affectionately looked on by her selfe; they were some in number, non [...] either dangerous, or troblesome to his liberty of walking abroad.

When they were dressed, the Councell standing all before them, and his Princes with her Nobility, they two sate downe vnder a cloath of estate, loue expressing it selfe, not only liuely but perfectly in their eyes: he tooke her hand, kiss'd it, beheld her earnestly, as amorously ready to make ex­pression of what was expected and hoped for, she as yeelding sate ready to grant, while he still holding her hand in his, and as passionately gazing in her affectionately requi [...]ing eyes, and such were his excellent expressions, and her louing entertayning those passions, as command needed not to his fol­lowers, who by outward sight, (knowledge by long acquaintance growing in the degree with experience) knew their masters mind, and so left him to expresse what his eyes promised, leauing the place as free as their soules de­sired to be, which would be granted only by rest, and what rest on earth like the quiet enioying them selues, which but with them selues they could doe, her seruants by her respect to the Emperour learnt obedience, and so to their owne happyest wishes left them.

They all gone, Amphilanthus Master of the greatest part of the Westerne World, and once as he assured him selfe, Monarch of her heart before shee knew Asia, or much more, or scarce so much as her selfe, much lesse her [Page 482] power ouer him, would like a confident man, and commanding louer, neuer shewing as if an account were to be had from him for former faults, vse the time, and take the opportunity offer'd him so as his eyes fixt as they were, and shee obseruing his, he most louingly, or rather passionately caught, (like a man drowning, catching at the next thing to him to saue himselfe) the Queene in his armes, and as no offender, (except in boldnesse) embraced her. She would haue violently, refused any other, nay his neglect in an o­ther person had forc'd the curstest punishment, but heere shee onely blushd, and receiu'd his loue, as at first without expostulation: discourse they also familarly did, & the wonted phrases of kindnesse in sweet familiarnesse were as free, as if neuer laid aside.

Thus that day passed, night being come, and all retyrd to rest, the Queene most happy and blest being againe enriched with his loue, or the show it had before, although the true fire was clearer, and warmer; this now suffised, and was insteed of the truth filld vp to the like heate by the vnexpectednes of it. Being in her bedd, what Pamphilia said shee? Is it possible that thou hast liued to see Amphilanthus kind againe? Can he smile on these wrincles, and be louing in my decay? When hee told mee I was alterd for the worse, and sleightly regarded me, I fear'd, but when he quite forsooke mee, wretch what did I, yet is he returning? Truely I must confesse this to be as strange as his other change, which I could not but like a blinde man be ledd to be­leeue, it was sung in my eares, and blazed in mine eyes, ere I could take off the Scarfe of credulity, and vnblinde my hopes to see plainely my despaire, and iust cause thereof, when I haue sate sighing, nay weeping for his disdaine, wishing he might but see my teares, which from strangers haue gain'd com­passion: He hath come in, then how haue I cheerd vp my heart, or rather my loue to him done it for me? Wiped my eyes, and from him hid my sor­rowes, to whom for my redresse they should haue beene discouered; poli­cie it was not that bred this in me, but pure loue, and vnfortunate subiection, yet I loue my selfe for it, and will still striue to continue it, and more now, since I see that pleades for me, and pitty, or fauour shines againe to me. It is impossible to be Lone, but reward that now hee goes about to giue mee, that yet shall be welcome, and what else soeuer comes from him, except frownes, nay they two if hee allot them me, so hartily I am his. The next morning they went to hunt, and after noone in the euening, walked foorth along a Riuers side till they came to a little rysing; at the bottom the water continued the wanton course it had begun, vpon the top of this rising there was a Rocke, and on the top of that a young shepheard playing vpon a Re­becke [...], the Ayre playing with his curled locks, and hee singing this Songe.

The wiser man, said Amphilanthus. The liker to your mind, said Pamphilia, if hee loue varities: hee looked vpon her, but seeing shee smild, when shee spake it, hee did so likewise, and so she went to the shepheard, who was com­ming downe from the Rock, and seeing them, was amased, yet with a good ciuill country manner saluted them, which they gratiously requited. The Queene then demanded, of what place he was; he replied, he was seruant to the Queenes Shepheard. Doe you know the Queene (said she). No indeed, replide hee. What heare you of her, said Amphilanthus? Much ioy for her safetie, and that she is a braue and a good woman, said he. Nothing else, said she? Yes, answered he, I haue heard more, but we must not speake all least we heare of it againe to our cost. I dare assure thee (said she) the Queene shall ne­uer heare of any thing thou sayest to vs any more, then now she doth, nor bee any more offended with thee. But if I come in question, where's your assu­rance, I may be assuredly hanged, and you neuer the wiser. Trust me (said she) I haue such power with her Maiesty, as thou shalt be secure. Why then (said hee) Ile tell you; but first let me see your face. Wherefore, said the Queene? Ile tell you if you be a maid, said he. With that she puld off a Mask she wore: the Shepheard looked wishly on her, and cryd out. O heauens what a sweete face is there, and what pitie it is you should bee so long a Maid?

The Louers both blushed, and smild, then the Shepherd proceeded. I can guesse by the face indifferently well at the disposition, and I lea [...]nt this expe­rience by marking my sheepe, and seldome now doe I faile in chusing the sweetest natured and mildest to breed on, I can see by the countenance whe­ther they will be tractable, or not, and so I cull the best from the other. But this is nothing of the Queene, said she. Why, she is (said he) a Lady loued, and well thought on by all that euer I heard speake of her, curteous, affable, no pride dwells in her, to the meanest she will speake; yet the greatest feare her, which is her iudgement and goodnesse that breedes that respect to her; shee is vpright and iust, in her gouernment mild, and louing to her subiects, shee loues all good exercises as well abroad, as at home; shee hath indeed they say, a braue and manlike spirit, and wonderous wise shee is; yet for all these good parts, shee could not keepe out of Cupids clawes, but was mightily in loue, and is still as it is mutterd about with a gallant man, a braue fighting [Page 484] man, for whose sake shee refused all others, and lately the King of Celicia her next neighbour; but for all her wisdome, there I belieue she was ill adui­sed to refuse him, for he came with such an Army against her, to haue her by force, as had like to haue marrd all; I am sure they frighted vs (no sword men) and our sheep likewise, yet at last hither came that braue man her loue, though some say he had before forsaken her, wherupon she grew melanchol­ly, & came seldome abroad, she might by that haue seene how foolish a thing loue was, and haue left it, and looked to her owne busines, but now they say, shee is liuely againe, and iolly, and well shee may, for he did gallantly to release her, yet hee dwells so farre off, and hauing as it is said, a prety hu­mour of changing, wee doe not wish him to her, least wee should loose her.

What doe you call him, said the Emperor? Amphilanthus, answered the Shepheard, Emperour of the West, a mighty man assuredly he is, and hath but that fault as euer I heard, and yet for mine owne part I would the Queen were of our mind (whereat they both laughed); for I protest (said he) I thinke varietie the sweetest pleasure vnder Heauen, and constancy the foo­lishest vnprofitable whining vertue.

Thou art an honest fellow, said Amphilanthus, I warrant thee. Pray God you proue so (said he) else I may bee in a wise case. Feare nothing, said the Queene, I will protect thee from any harme, but now you haue spoken thus freely of the Queene, tell vs as particularly of your loues, for it appeares you haue been a louer.

In a kinde (said hee) and you shall heare what I haue done since my infancy, for since tenne, I haue looked after Wenches, and loued them since foureteene, and now am I sixe and twenty. The first vnruly flames that bred in mee, were at fourteene, towards a pretty Maid of my mothers, much about that age, who, what with my importunitie, prettie presents of fruites and flowers, quaint wordes, the loue shee bore her Mistris, whom shee might feare would bee angry, if shee crost mee to make mee sicke, or it may bee wanton, and young, found as much apt­nesse in her felfe as in mee, or what other cause or power it was, I know not, shee would not refuse long, nor was I long in accepting, but kind­ly and amorously wee liued a whole yeare, and I pray was not that a long time to bee in loue with one woman? I thinke by that I merrited neuer to bee by other denied.

Then came a fine Brownetta, an neighbours daughter of ours crost my sight, and so my former loue, shee daily came to milke in the next grounds to vs: I then thought on nothing but how to winne her; the other followed mee, and perpetually watched mee, that I durst not goe neare her: but loue is neuer without inuention, I would steale out in the night, and make bracks and holes in the Hedges that parted our grounds, and then when my Sheepe being drouen, as of purpose I would driue them that way, would for change (louing it as well as their Ma­ster) get into her Fathers fields, I must goe fetch them forth againe, and so I saw her, and spake to her, telling her shee should aduise her fa­ther to keep his fences better, this was my introduction, and at last wan her by [Page 485] discourse and conuersation as wrangling at first wrangled our selues one. But when I had enioyed her, I thought the other like stale bread: shee told me of it, I truly confest I was weary of her; she said we were well met to part on equall tearmes, and so she quickly after chose another, and another, for al­ready I haue seene he [...] haue three besides my selfe, and I commend her for it.

Some moneths, which were the Spring and Summer, and as long as faire weather lasted, I loued this second; but when cold came on, my bloud grew chill, and so my hart grew faint, onely to be recouered with the next Spring, which it was, and sprang vnto another loue, who was as faire as Diana her selfe at the full, but for my contentment not so cold nor chaste. She was a Neatresse, and in truth an neate one; her I gaind by curtesie, fetching, and driuing her cattle to her, and for her, the sweete and secret Woods could onely accuse vs, none else mistrusted, and so sweetly and kindly did we passe our times; but shee after a while being but as the former were, and no varie­tie in her, I began to thinke how I might purchase some creature more like my disposition which I gained; for walking in the Woods, I found a dainty Forrest Nimph hunting, I forsooke her, le [...]t home, father, and all betaking me to the Woods: sh [...]e was long before she could be wonne to like, longer to loue; but at last for my ioy, shee liked, loued, and yeelded, then was I a blessed man, for in this delicate Creature I was fully happie, shee [...]o well incountred my humour with her fashion, and diuers, and seuerall expressions of loue she gaue, which as still being new, she was an new woman to mee, and so I conti­nued with the varietie on her side, and I so contented with all, as I loued her fiue yeare without change, yet not wholly so constant, but I thinke I slipt a­side in that time. Sometimes it may be she thought so, and would be sad; but when I came, and saw her so, how did I thinke that did become her, and idle­nesse, or mirth misbeseeme others; then I grew sad to imitate her, learnt her fashions, walked crosse armd, sighed, cast vp mine eyes, spake little, looked much on her, else on nothing to say, I looked on any thing but as vnmar­ked.

This passion pleased me as different from the other, then so well I pleased her in this kind, as she the next time would be merry. I liked that beyond the other, for then me thought I saw life, spirit, and mettle in her; I then embra­ced that with ioy and delight, finding that [...]he did all these to make me hers, by still contenting me; I was contented to be hers, as much as it was possible for mee to bee anyes, and this brought me into such reputation, as I had the good looks, nay, thoughts of many faire maides (without pride I speake it, though I confesse I loue to tell it), among the rest there was another Nimph, who hearing of mee, or seeing how my Mistris made of mee, thought it a fine thing to loue, but a finer to bee loued, yet did [...]hee not consider how to chuse without offence to others, and gaine to her selfe, for her ill for­tune was to chuse mee, who though so naturally kind to women, as I would hardly let one of that sweete sexe sigh, much lesse weepe for mee, but that I would requite her; yet [...]hee had not that winning power to make mee dif­fer, nor indeede did shee take mee right, for shee mistooke both in the time and place, happening to bee at the Nimphs house, whither I of [...]en resorted with other Forresters, shee welcomming mee as a friend, that had done [Page 486] her seruice in a hunting which shee had, the house was little, and therefore the roomes were neare together, my Mistris lodged this other, her riual com­panion, in a roome within her selfe, mistrusting nothing, but bolting the doore betweene them, sure for her comming to her, secretly went to bed, and when all was quiet according to our agreement, she came to mee; as we were together embracing, and louingly discoursing, wee heard a noise some­t [...]ing nearer vs, as in the next roome; loue at first made vs heedl [...]sse, till com­ming neare, and continuing with increase of lumbring, [...]nd as if wood falling or slipping from those rowes, or the order it was laid vp, as in rankes, in wee startled, and I feared, because of my Mistris; but shee knowing the place, which was not aboue fiue foote broad, and alwaies filled with cleft wood for the chambers, stept out and shut a doore, which was to goe in, or to come out of that place.

When shee had made it safe for opening on the other side, shee softly re­turned to mee, and then with much delight wee stayed a while together, till day being ready to breake, shee parted from mee to bee in her owne bed, when her maides came to seeke her, which soone after they did, and shee be­ing ready, called mee, and sent for Orileda, for so the other was called, but she hauing (as shee told me afterwards, to make me know her loue, the violence whereof had made a more vnchast thought in her, then euer before she had) broken her shin with climing ouer the wood, cursing it yet more for the hin­drance, then the harme, barring her from letting me see what power I had to make her, other then euer her modestie till then would permit. Shee was vnable to follow Dianaes sports, as well in person, as her chaste courses in thought.

I seemed to pitie my owne ill fortune in missing of her, and to lament her hurt, which more hurt mee, for after shee perplexed mee with haun­ting of mee, Lord what a life led I? shee troubled mee, my Mistris grew a little suspitious of me, that grieued mee, both stroue for mee; but such difference there was betweene them, as I had been blind and accursed, if I had left one fortother. But then came the Queene into those Woods to delight her self, being at her first comming into this Country, in her Traine she had many braue and fine women, among the rest, one prety little Lasse, who for her pretinesse, mee thought, commanded largely ouer hearts, I am s [...]re shee made mine faint and faile, when it had been strong; then did I thinke a Forrest life the toylesomst, and wearisomest in the world: I plot­ted how to bee released of it, and why? onely to bee where I might see her I most loued.

Long I studied, at last I fell vpon a resolution, which was, to put my selfe into the Court, to serue some Officer or Courtier, the Queene affecting hunting, I was soone accepted, and taken by the chiefe Huntsman to be one of her Maiesties seruants, being excellent in blowing a Horne, and in the chase, and so louing infinitely, and hoping as much, for I neuer loued with­out that especiall comfort about me, to spoile me, and to crosse my old com­panion Hope, the Queene went to try Enchantments, I neuer hauing seene her but one horse-back, and still masked: I know not how her Maiestie car­ried her selfe, or what shee did, but as reports are by all, to her most meri­ting honour that might bee, though likewise to her losse, for shee returned [Page 487] after some yeares, the most discontented woman in the world, and hath con­tinued so, till now within few dayes, when (God bee thanked) she hath recouered her spirits, which long may they be (I beseech Heauen co)ntinued to her, & al hapines attend her, yet I was angry with her going for she caried [...] loue with her, yet farr [...] she could not carry it, it was either so heauy as it [...], or so light, as the first contrary wind brought it me again, and then I for­swore hunting, court, and al, betaking me to be a Shepherd, and here I liue vn­der the Queens Shepheard quiet, loue for my pleasure, neuer to paine, haue a Lasse now that will haue mee loue, or serue her, whether I will or no, her violence making mee truer, or rather more obseruant then anie o­thers wor [...]h could do; and thus I liue (I must [...]ay truly) fondly, ignorantly, and condemned by all men; yet it pleaseth mee, because I auoid by this meanes, importunities, and businesses. I am heere serued and obserued, no­thing to vexe mee, i [...] not what I like well enough, which is her ouer­much fondnesse: her fairenesse troubles mee not, for shee is no Helena, her vertue denies me little, for I command that, and her, her humble and busie loue mix [...] with fine discourse likes mee well enough, or I suffer my selfe to thinke so; yet O me the Nimph was a dainty Lasse.

Ah (said Pamphilia), it seemes you haue some reliques of that loue. In truth (said he) I haue, and my conscience moues me that way many times, [...]nowing she vndid her selfe for me, and yet firmely loues mee still, and vn­changeably euer did.

Returne then (said Amphilanthus) and bee now againe more happy then euer enioying so long loued, and louing a Creature, the first passions were but flashes, the [...]e pure and true fie [...]s.

I feele them so (said hee), [...]nd I will doe so, and yet in so doing iustly, and continue my old affection to varietie too, for now she will be new againe to me.

The Louers smil'd vpon each other, and taking the fine Shepheards offer, which was to drinke of his poore drinke, they each dranke of his bot­tle, and returned, pleased much with his discourse, but most with his resoluti­on to returne to his old Loue.

The next Morning shee went to Fish, and so after dinner to Hauke, and euerie day had new delights, till they had past inuention, and then like the Sheepheard returned to what they had had: so one morning to hunt they went, when after one hours chase the hounds running merrily, the stag com­ming neere them, the Emperour with the rest had his spirits mooued with the pleasure, and not sparing his horse followed with such speed into a great and desart wood, as hee had in the thicknesse lost the Stagge, hounds, all the company, and himselfe; the Que [...]e hauing a guide, and coast­ing came in to the death, for the Hou [...]es soore brought the Deere out of the wood, but at the fall of him the Emperor was miss'd, the Queene missing in that misse all ioy and content, her heart being so much his, as still partooke of his fortunes, and that faithfully tould her hee would not quickly be heard of againe, shee grew sad, and instead of honoring her Dogges, or Deere with their last rights, tooke her horse againe and went her selfe to seeke him, sending all her traine seuerall waies in the same quest, taking only with her two Ladies that had held out the [Page 488] chase with her, and ten Knights. She continued the search till night, then came she to a house in the mid'st of the wood, where she resolud to rest her that night, and the next day betimes pursue her search. When she came in­to the house she found seruāts ready, and willing to entertaine her, but their Mistris was not as then come from hunting; the Queene weary and sad, s [...]te downe on a bed, or rather neglectiuely threw her selfe vpon one, her Ladi [...]s in the meane space taulking with the seruants concerning their Mistris, [...]ill she returned in a garment of blacke Damaske, which reached to her knees, and another below that, that came to the small of her leg, of Sattin, buskins she had of the finest leather laced and tyed with pretty knots of ribbin, but al blacke, and so had she gone euer since her loue left her. On her head shee wore a hat, but her haire vnder it, tyed and braded so finely, as shee might throw off her hat at pleasure, and remaine finer then before. She seemed to haue beene excellent [...] and yet she appeared louely, though her face said shee was not in the youth fullest time of her yeares, yet her Sommer was not quite done; she had strength, and spirit in place of delicasie and sinnes, and whole­some healthfulnes for dainty beauty, altogether shee was farre from being contemptible, though not merriting to be admired, if not for constancy and patient suffering which shee had brought her selfe vnto, and to so perfect a kind of them, as she no way wanted her former happines

An excellent Creature she was without question in her kind, and as such are oft times abused with excelling change; She vnderstanding the Queene was in her house, was much ioyed withall, but not so rauished with it, as it made her any whit forget her duty, as others haue done, rashly ouercome with ioy, to grow vnmannerly withall, but stayed attending the good for­tune when she might see, and welcome her Maiestie which should be done when she cal'd, that tim came soone after, for the Q. hauing tumbled awhile, and cast her thoughts into millions of various conceits, she with wearynes fell asleepe, and so continued an howre, which space the sweete Nimph stayd for her.

As soone as the Ladyes had told the Queene of her being without, shee was admitted in to her, who with as much humillity, as the Queene with kindnes saluted her, vsing her best language (as she had as good as any of her sort,) to expresse her gladnesse in seeing, & hauing her Maiestie in her house. Pamphilia hearing her speak, and beholding her manner and fashion, besides the furniture of the roome being of delicate and rich silke, both hangings and bed, which till then she regarded not, did beleeue she was of noble kinde, and so vsed her, taking her gently from the ground, and telling her shee was not to kneele to her guest.

To my Soueraigne Lady ( [...]id she) I am bound, and your worth claimes this, and more respect from all [...]angers, then kissed she the Queenes hands, and rose, beholding the Queene with admiration of her beauty and sadnes; her eyes hauing been employed to other vse then sleeping, as by the red cir­cles did appeare. Delicate discourse passed betweene them a good space, till the Queene found she might be bolder with her, then she yet had, and so be­gan to aske her some questions, the first, why shee woare Blacke, being a Huntresse? Shee replyd, shee had lost her Deare, and mourned for it. Then must I weare Blacke also (said shee) for I am parted vnfortu­nately [Page 489] from my deerest Deere, for which my heart allready is in mourning. The sweete Nimph with a low reverence & a sigh, seemd to lament for her; the Queene then proceeded, as longing to know the end, which the other perceiuing, to giue her all content, yeelded vnto it, and proceeded thus.

Since I see the desire you haue to know all my story, may it please your Maiestie to vnderstand, I am called Mirasilua, a Forrest Nimph by my man­ner of life, but not profest to Diana, though a seruant to her delights; vn­marryed I liue, but wedded to a vow I made to one, whose breach of his, like-made-one to me cannot yet vnmarry me; he was called Sildurino, as faire, but as false as any, his life was wholy in the Country, and after that manner though he was nobly discended, but his Grandfather falling into an vnfor­tunate action ouerthrew their house, his father and his children, euer after liuing priuatly, and but plentifully, yet is there no reason to vse them with the lesse respect, or to contemue them, or thinke basely of them, who suf­fer for others offences, not their owne; yet such was the greatnes of their spirits, as of fowre sonns the Grandfather left none, but his father did marry who was betrothed before his fall, and she nobly would after continue her loue to her Spouse, liuing happily together, and as contented as if they had all the possessions, and honours they were borne vnto, which was as much as most, or any in this Kingdome.

The other three brothers liued with them, but so vexed, & stomacking their pouertyes, yet hauing vertuous hearts would not consent to thinke of ill courses, they perplexedly liued, and at last dyed, their hearts broken with their owne swellings, and rent with their owne furious passions, their ouer­throw came in this manner. The King who vnquietly reign'd next before your most worthy Vncle, was a mighty Tyrant, and had purchased the Kingdome by treachery, and blood-shedding of many, lastly of the right King, his children and kinsmen, to the last he could finde that durst say he had one drop of Royall blood in him, and many suffered for this, hauing so much royall vertue as to striue to ouerthrow such a beast. When hee had done this, and none left to withstand him, he yet thought himselfe not secure, vn­lesse he ruin'd those that knew his villany, least they bloodded in ill would practise on him: all those he likewise made away, nay those deere friends of his that had set the Crowne vpon his head, truely, and worthily requi [...]ed them for so Deuilish an act: with the same they fedde the poore King his predesessor, who had no falt but that he was too good, too honest, too iust, & two religious, shewed faults in Princes in these dayes. When the king had thus gained his mind, and free'd himselfe from the danger of being betray'd, who had beene trecherous to so many, and none left that he could feare, or say that man knowes my ill, so as now he might surely walke if not for his owne conscience; yet what good got he by this? he had not only rid himselfe of those he might mistrust or dislike, to see if any remorse were in him, but of friends, so as hee stood alone, and like a Tree in the midst of a plaine his branches cut off, euery wind hath power on him; So stood he apt to be shaken with euery storme which was seene, and considered by many, and at last resolu'd vpon that hee should reele or fall. A plot was layd, and most of the remayning Nobility, and especially all the auncient [Page 490] Lords by desent, though many were young men among them agreed toge­ther; but the King as he was wicked, so he was very wise, or politique, quick­ly discernd there was something more then was for his good, wherefore like an old Foxe when he meanes to get a dwelling which he will not take paines to make himselfe, layes baits, and wiles to gaine his neighbours house, and deceiues the poore Badger; so did this Deuill, laying such [...]inns for them, as he caught them when they lest thought of it, thrusting into their counsells, and companyes, instruments of his, who were content to sweare and for­sweare any thing, nay their owne soules to winne his fauour, such a Tyrant is ambition ouer man to get the grace of Kings, who being king it is enough, and no matter what Kings they are. These men did not only ioyne with the rest in what they aduised, but added of their owne inuentions, leading them on by traines into the snare.

When time was ripe for the action, and the discouery, the King called an assembly of all his Lords, and as it were to rectifie some things that were a­misse, and to giue satisfaction to his people, if any thing troubled them, be­sides to propound warr against Celicia, their ancient and new growne ene­mie. These friends (for too honest the maine part were to be called conspi­rators) came with the rest, and so obeyed the orders and commands of the King who help'd some things, but their cheife grieuances were not brought in, at last these poore betrayed Lords were, when earnestest for their Coun­try, cross'd and cut short by the King, which mooued them so much, as ra­ther then suffer dishonour they flew out; many of the Commons tooke part with them, but such is the bacenes of common people, as they left them as soone as they heard one Proclamation against them; they were soone taken, some kild that would withstand, but Sildurino his Grandfather was taken, and not denying the determination held among them, was executed, his sonns not being of the confederacy were degraded, their houses razed, and their name vtterly forgotten by cōmand of neuer being mentioned more then by their Christian names, their goods confis [...]ated, & lands forfited to the King, themselues confined to one house the poorest their father had, where they were bound to liue without titles, or meanes, but from staruing, and if they broke the command, death ensued. Many other noble families fell also, my Grandfather likewise sufferd for this busines, but so great a fall it was, not to vs, since there was none left but my selfe to inherit his estate, and I so vnbles­sed a woman as merrit no other then a most vnfortunate being.

We two as borne to ill, and misfortune, fell as vnluckily to loue each o­ther, loue I thinke I may say we did, I am sure he liked, at least much dissem­bled, and I dare sweare I loued, yet as a conclusion must come to all things, so did there one fall, and a desperate one for me, for he left me, alas vnkindly left me, who intirely loued him, and mourne in heart and soule still for him, and my losse. Alas (said I to my selfe) what made him leaue me? he told me, I was growne an old Wench, he hath chosen an elder whom he adores, and worships like a Saint, and well may he doe so, for shee seemes rather an Image then a fleshly body, or rather a relique of what had been to bee reuerenced, then a substance to be beloued.

But if I speake much in this kind, your Maiestie may thinke, enuy speakes in mee, though this is but truth, and most true, that she hath the aduantage [Page 491] of winning, and keeping a loue aboue all other women, for so powerfull shee is in the gaining, sparing neither estate, honor, nor trauell to accomplish her desires; then so diligent, and carefull in the preseruing her gaine, as it is im­possible to get one backe againe that shee hath gotten. She will not neglect occasions, seruices, duties, that seruants were fitter to doe; nay, so busie shee will be in her house to haue any thing shee imagines will please, as shee ap­peares to strangers, rather an Hostesse, then a Mistris: but such a Mistris shee hath euer been, for he is but one of a great summe of seruants which shee hath past her time with all, but now decayd and growne old as I and others are, she holds only him, (at least as he thinks, though God forgiue me if I belieue it not, or that hee is alone) and him by Inchantment surely; for shee is now at this present the most contrary woman to his former choyces that can be in­uented, nay, to his opinions, as his owne hand can witnesse; but he hath for­gotten them as me, and we must suffer to satisfie his varietie and loue to it. But how if he returne to your loue, will he be receiued or slighted, said the Queene? me thinkes these weeds promise pardon, since none would mourne for that they care not for. The care of him and for him made me first weare them, answered Myrasilua, but now I mourne for mine owne misfortune, and I assure my selfe may still for any hope of his alteration; no alas Madam, he is left, and I vndone may see it. I confesse hee did many times about the the time of his change, speak in a kind, as if it had been my fault and neglect, that made the alterations, but my soule and his know the contrary: I saw him going, I sought to preuent it, but when I found such priuate meetings, such plots to cousen himselfe by deceiuing me, and my trust in him, I could not sue for impossibilities, nor seeke where I was refused and wrongd. Some said (as I remember one that followed, or haunted him I thinke) that surely twas my lasinesse, and her actiuenesse that won him; Ah (said I) if he were to be wonne, I could not loose him, now I know I cannot keepe him, nor could I almost keepe my wits for the affliction of it, since I find he was, and is but a man that I so much reuerenced, no God but in my Idolatry; a Diuell to my rest and quiet content, of which I haue not tasted since his leauing me, but so well, or much acquainted with these, as I thinke ioy, or they would bee dis­tastefull to me. Be not of that opinion (said Pamphilia), but thinke how to embrace him with the former affection, and loue as you were wont; loue him and forget what is past, remember it not so much as to question it, wrap vp the former crosses and misfortunes all in a sheet of forgiuenes, and drowne them in the Sea of your patience, and renued loue, smile on him and his re­pentance as on his loue, and first sute, welcome his returne as his first professi­on, and embrace his second loue in the armes of your truest and dearest thoughts, as you did his vowes, and louing protestations; be resolute to for­get, and in forgiuing, receiue him a new man yet the same louer he was when perfectest. If his perfections were not blotted with change (said the Nimph) I could doe them, for in troth Madam, my heart and soule re­ioyceth when I thinke, or heare of him; therefore I feare I cannot re­fuse, which is the cause I pray daily to hold me out of his sight, since I cannot see him, but to my deadly torment in anothers possession, then how may I hope to see him returne, I find no possibilitie to enioy, or hope for it.

[Page 492]Trust me (said the Queene) hee is recanting, and ere long you will see it, but be carefull in accepting, lest the others importunitie, and your slacknesse marre not all againe. Then did the Queene tell her all that had passed be­tweene her, the Emperour and the Shepheard, which made her a most ioy­full woman, and glad besides for his sake, that the Queene tooke his talke so well, touching her Maiesties selfe so nearely. Their discourse ended, and Myrasilua hauing giuen her word to be kind againe, or rather to coutinue so as well in expression to him, as in her heart she still had been, entreated Pam­philia to sup, and accept of such fare, as Forresters had in those Desarts. She gaue her many thanks, and went out with her, so they eat, and after the Queen went to bed, desiring to be alone, the freelier to thinke of her other selfe; and though she enioyed not his sight, to see him liuely in her soule, where he was ingrauen by faithfull memory.

O Amphilanthus (said she) why hast thou left thy poore Pamphilia thus, newly raised from death of despaire, to the life of hope and happinesse, to be cast downe lower, then before in misery? My better and dearer selfe, I know it was not thy meaning to leaue mee thus soone, nor in this manner. What Deuill is risen now to vndoe, and murder my content? Accursed bee this Wood, the Day we went an hunting, the motion to that rude sauage exer­cise, and all appurtenances that brought, or aided to my losse. My sweetest life, how doe I perpetually dye in thy absence? My dearest heart, returne and restore me, else come to see me die [...] and close my dying eyes with thy all [...] conquering, and beloued hands; or if it would grieue thee, yet be content to spare me wishes in thy absence, and liue thou as happy, as thou art most wor­thy. Let these eyes be blessed (if possibly I may aske and obtaine such a bles­sing) with seeing thee againe: let me be the fortunate finder of thee, and let me find thy fauour still to me, then most luckely and eternally happy search. With these, and many more such passionate words, shee spent most time of the night, till being tired, sleepe would haue his share of the royall Queene, and so she slept, but not long before she started, cryed out, O stay, and liue with me, follow not her, that loues thee not like me, forsake me not againe; Oh stay, with that she stayd her speech, for then she came out of her dreame, and seeing it was but a dreame, was a little better satisfied, yet so it stuck in her, as the abiding of it so fresh in her thoughts, foretold an extraordinary matter in it. Shee dreamt, that shee had him in her armes, discoursing with him; but hee sad, and not speaking, of a sudden rose, and went to the doore, where shee thought shee saw Lucenia calling to him, to whom hee went, and downe the staires with her, then tooke Coach and fled away with her, which made her crie with that haste and loudnesse, but hee went still with Lucenia, neuer looking towards her, and so she lost sight of them, Coach and all; an odde Omen, considering all that happned afterwards.

Well, shee rose as soone, as day appeared, and taking her leaue of that kind Nimph, shee tooke her horse, a [...]d went into the Wood, trauelling till shee came into the Desartest place, and most obscure of that part, riding vp and downe as well as shee could for the thicknesse of it, shee per­ceiued at last vpon a white Bone that lay there (which had beene of some beast that had been killed, or died there, and the rest consumed, or then [Page 493] away) one drop of blood fresh, and then a little from that more, and so following it, came to a place where there was a pretty quantitie, and only the tract of one horse to be seene, she feared, and tracking the blood till shee came to a place made round like a Crowne of mighty stones, in the mid'st one greater then all the rest, and on that the Armour of Amphilanthus, his Sheild, and Sword, but that was stroke with such force & strength into the stone, and as if runne halfe way in it, as none could stirr it, that, and the ar­mour was hacked, and cut in many places, besides all bloudy, and the blood as fresh, as if but newly shed, on the other side his horse lay dead, and hard by an infinite and huge Boare slaine, yet so terrible to behold, as it almost ama­sed the beholders, a little from thence a Gentleman of excellent proportion dead also; but the Queene looked on nothing but her Deares Armour and Sword; after she saw the Knight, and knew him not being vnarmd, standing as still as the stone, and as vnmoueable, till at last she sunke to the ground in a swound; her women helpt to vnlace her, and her Knights fetched water and such things to bring her to life againe, as they could get there. In the meane time came a Knight in gilt armour, and seeing this miserable specta­cle, hee kneeled dowue by the Queene, and assisted her poore Ladies, whose griefe and amasement was such, as they were scarce able to doe the seruice re­quired at their hands. At last she breathed, and then sighed, looked vp, cryd, O my deare Amphilanthus, I come, I come, then fainted againe, and againe they fetched her. When she saw she had not power to die, as she hoped, and found her selfe in the armes of an armed Knight, she said; Sir, I beseech you what authoritie haue you ouer mee in my misery, that you venture to hold me from my resolution? either I pray leaue me presently to my owne will, or more kindly send me to him, after whom I will not liue. What account can I giue the world of his losse, whom all the world admired and loued? What will Germany, Italy, and all say of me? what curses lay vpon me, and my Country, when they shall know that with me, and in this place they haue lost him? Accursed Country, but more accursed woman, for whose sake the Earths glory and happinesse came into it, and here, Oh here is? More shee would haue said, but her speech and voyce faltred. The Knight had puld off his Helme, and then as passionatly weeping and lamenting as they did, hee spake, being knowne to be Polarchos. Alas Madam (said he) how comes this misfortune, be like your selfe, and tel me, that I may, and your other seruants redresse this wrong as neare as wee can, and know what is become of that royall man. O Polarchos (said shee) how can I looke on thee, and say, thy Lord is dead, and so my heart departed. Neuer let mee heare those words, cryd he: but where is his body, or how know you he is dead? What can be hoped, for else, said she? see you not his sword that made so many bow, and yeeld? his armes that serued him in so many conflicts, his horse that neuer failed, while he had life, how can it be otherwise, but he is dead since, what else could s [...]perate him from these Iewels. Then afresh they lamented and cryd; but Pamphilia at last remembred (calling his sweetnesse, and loue as freshly, and affectionately to her sight as if present, but most grieuously, be­cause parted) that hee was not armed, when he par [...]ed from her, that gaue a Spring to hope, and made her stay her teares, till she was resolued, which soone shee was by Polarchos, who told her, that hee hauing romed vp and [Page 494] downe the Forrest, at last returned to the Tents, where hee with the rest of the Officers staied with their prouisions, expecting them to come to rest, and feede on those things they had prouided, and so returne to the City. But as he came, and lighted, instantly a young fellow like a Forrester, came crying, That your Maiesty was taken away by Theeues, and carried into the thickest part of the Wood, whereupon he armed himself, and speedily tooke the way he directed him; wee with as much speed as we could followed him, but in the Woods we lost sight of him, and all (as if led by seuerall Spirits) are scat­tred and lost. Lost indeed, said she, we all are, since he is lost, more worth then the whole Earth, and lost by treason, as now it plainely appeares; then they fell to their lamentations againe, but Polarchos tooke the Armes, and would haue put them vp. No, said she, these shall here remaine, none being worthy to touch, much lesse to weare them after him. Then they hung them vp, putting in pinnes of Gold into the great stones, and on euery stone hung a piece, inriching that Crowne with more rich ornaments (hauing then the Armes of the most magnanimious Prince of the World) then if the costliest Diamonds had been inchased in them; the Sword they also thought to hang vp with his Sheild, but Polarchos could no more mooue that, then Pamphilia; the Scaberd they hung with the Sheild, and vnder-writ some lines, Pamphi­lia both making them, and ingrauing them, as shal be told hereafter. Polarchos began to be a little better in hope, when he saw the Sword in that order, trust­ing it was but some Inchantment, from which he might be deliuerd, though held some time from them, which was a new griefe to thinke vpon. When they were going away, the Queene to lament and mourne, which she vowed during her life to doe, and Polarchos to liue in some remote place, neuer to see man nor creature more, the excellentest being gone, they saw out of holes in the stones, smoake, and fire suddenly to flie out with it. Pamphilia aduentu­red, and pulling hard at a ring of iron which appeared, opned the great stone, when a doore shewed entrance, but within she might see a place like a Hell of flames, and fire, and as if many walking and throwing pieces of men and wo­men vp and downe the flames, partly burnt, and they still stirring the fire, and more brought in, and the longer she looked, the more she discernd, yet all as in the hell of deceit, at last she saw Musalina sitting in a Chaire of Gold, a Crowne on her head, and Lucenia holding a sword, which Musalina tooke in her hand, and before them Amphilanthus was standing, with his heart ript open, and Pamphilia written in it, Musalina ready with the point of the sword to conclude all, by razing that name out, and so his heart as the wound to pe­rish. Faine she would, nay there was no remedy, but she would goe in to helpe him, flames, fier, Hell it selfe not being frightfull enough to keepe her from passing through to him; so with as firme, and as hot flames as those she saw, and more brauely and truly burning, she ran into the fire, but presently she was throwne out againe in a swound, and the doore shut; when she came to her selfe, cursing her destinie, meaning to attempt againe, shee saw the stone whole, and where the way into it was, there were these words writ­ten.

Polarchos attempted likewise, but could only (for being vnconstant) passe the flames, but not come within reach of the Emperour, but then was cast out also. The Queene then perceiued what this was, and so as sadly as before resolued, shee returned to the Court, where more like a religious, then a Court life, she liued some yeares. Polarchos presently prouided long gray Roabes, like a Hermit, and on the outside of the Armes-crowned Crowne he made a Cell, where he liued daily beholding the Armes, and lamenting for his Lord, kissing the stone wherein he thought he was inclosed, and thus liued he, guarding the Armes of his Lord, till the aduenture was concluded.

The other eleuen Princes that came with Amphilanthus into Pamphilia, and were as Polarchos hath told you scatterd, and deuided in the Desart, it was the fortune of the Prince of Transiluania to come within two daies after to the same Lodge, where the Queene had laine with the dainty sad Nimph; but hearing of Pamphilias being well and safe, onely perplexed for the want of Amphilanthus, staied not, but followed the search of them both, till hee came to the sea-side, where beholding the waues, and comparing mens for­tune to the rising, falling, and breaking of them, he saw a little Bote come to­wards the land, and in it a faire Damsell, weeping and pitifully complaining. The Prince tooke great compassion of her, demanding the cause of her sor­row.

Alas Sir (said she) shall I tell you, and you prooue like other Knights, I may well then accuse my forwardnesse, and paine; but if you will promise to suc­cour my Lady, who is so faire, worthy and great, as will take away the shew of my imperfections, perfect in nothing but duty to her, I will then tell you what you aske. Speake faire, and sad Lady (said he) and I vow to serue your Lady, and your selfe with my best indeauours, although I must tell you, I am in search of such, as vnwillingly I would be diuerted, but com­passion compells me to serue you. She thanked him, and thus proceeded. Blessed may you, and all your enterprises be, who for a distressed Ladies sake will lay aside your own occasions, and let me know I beseech you, to whom she is thus much ingaged. I am (said he) Prince of Transiluania, seruant to the Emperour Amphilanthus, from whom I was parted in yonder Desart, and haue since sought him, and was yet in the quest of him, and the Queene of this Country, with eleuen Princes more his seruants, all seuered from one another, and seeking each other; God send they may happily meete said she; and you braue, and courteous Prince be for euer happy for your no­blen [...]sse. The businesse which vrgeth mee to demand your helpe is this, my Lady and Mistris is the Princesse of Lycia, only daughter to the King of that Country, next neighbor to this place, so as your stay shall not bee very long from your search; with this Lady the Lord of the Mountaines called Tau­rus (an vnworthy man, rude, proud, ill-fauourd, sauage and rough as well in person, as in maners, but wonderfull powerfull, and mighty of body, meanes and people) fell in loue; shee being as delicate, as hee abominable, which made her hate him as much, as he sought her, but her father a good Prince, louing peace, would not prouoke warre, but rather yeeld her to him.

[Page 484]This brought the sweete Princesse into desperate melancholly, and dis­paire, but a Noble man as well in truth of vertue, as descent and honour to defend her from so much harme, tooke her into his protection the same day she should haue beene giuen to the Mountaine Lord, venturing life, honors, and estate to keepe her free. This being discerned by the cruell proud man, and her father, the good old King troubled withall, vtterly disclayming any knowledge of it; they raised men to take her backe by force, and catch him, who should certainely suffer for such an attempt: but the place is strong, the cause good, and the defence iust, and honest, so as none I hope will doe other then pitty her, and seeke to redresse her wrongs; this hath continued eight moneths, and now the King hath sent directly to her, to yeeld her selfe into his hands to be bestowed on the feirce Montaltanus, or to bee forsaken for euer of him, and disinherited.

This message was heauily receiued by the poore Princesse, yet she resol­ued to dye disinherited, and be the poorest in estate, rather then the vnhap­piest by marryage; wherefore after an humble answer, and dutifull refusall of yeelding to be wife to Montaltanus; she demanded one request of her fa­ther, which was to let it bee lawfull for her to send forth in search of some Knight, who would defend her quarrell against him, whom if he ouercame, she should be yeeded vnto his Maiestie, if her Knight got the victory, then she should be free, and inherit what she was borne vnto, and this to be per­formed in two months, and peace in the interim.

These things were agreed on, and granted with much vaine-glory on the assured Champions side; then did the Lady send foure Damsells abroad, of which number I am one, three are returned without finding any, and now are but three dayes left of the perfixed time, the Nobleman hath also his par­don granted on the conditions of conquest by the strange Knight, else at the Kings dispose. Now Sir, if you please to vndertake the quarrell, you shall make an noble braue (but vnfortunate) Princesse bound vnto you, and hers, all your seruants. Is the Noble man said the Prince, in whose hands shee is, marryed, or ambitious by his seruice to obtaine her? He is married truely Sir said she, & hath a vertuous Lady to his wife, as forward, & euer was as himselfe to serue the Princesse, and only pittifull respect brought him to venturne vpon this danger; I will be their seruant answered the Prince, and venture my life to release her and saue him: Together they went, shee the happiest woman liuing, in that she thus should serue her Mistris, and the Campe they gained, the night before the expecting time of Combat, hee pass'd by the Campe, and through some part of it, hauing license as it was appointed, and agreed on, those that saw him, commended him much, for a braue and personable man, likely, and promising much in him: but when hee came to the Castle, the pleasure the Princesse, and her friends felt, can­not be expressed, especially in the Lady her selfe, who imagin'd at first sight it had beene Amphilanthus, and indeed she might easily bee deceiued, for he some what (and much for his honour) resembled him, but hee wanted much of well marked, for he was short of him in stature, more in shape, and colour being blacker, and most in sweetenes, and perfect louelynes, yet this was a very braue Gentleman, his greatest faults being to high an opinion of his owne worth, which was lessned by his ouer valuing of that, which o­therwise [Page 497] had beene more valued; but this businesse hee vndertooke, and brauely performed the next day, [...]ncountering his enemie in a List, made of purpose betweene the Campe, and Castle, the Lady being placed by her Kingly Father, in a Throne raysed of purpose for them.

Then entred the great arrogant Mountaine Lord, to meete no lesse a selfe esteeming Prince, who was mounted on a braue stirring horse, the coulers he wore were straw couler, and haire couler: the Caparisons were cut into the shape of leaues, dead the couler shewed them, and being set on straw couler cloath of Gold, they seemd as if fallen on sand, and moouing with the Ayre which the horses motions made likely, and so pretty: On his sheild he had a dead Tree painted, saue in the midst of the naked body, there was as it were one little knot of leaues budding forth, & seeming greenish with a word in his language, which interpreted, was vnderstood that there yet was some hope. These Armes, and furniture were new, which might haue distasted the young Lady, but the losse of his Emperiall Master coulered that sufficiently.