The Countesse of Mountgomeries URANIA. Written by the right honorable the Lady MARY WROATH. Daughter to the right Noble Robert Earle of Leicester. And Neece to the ever famous, and re­nowned Sr. Phillips Sidney knight. And to y most [...] Lady Mary Countesse of [...]

LONDON Printed for IOH̄ MARRIOTT and IOHN GRISMAND And are to bee sould at theire shoppes in St. Dunstons Churchyard in Fleetstreet and in Poules Ally at y signe of the Gunn.

THE COVNTESSE OF MOVNTGOME­RIES VRANIA. THE FIRST BOOKE.

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.

VNseene, vnknowne, I here alone complaine
To Rocks, to Hills, to Meadowes, and to Springs,
Which can no helpe returne to ease my paine,
But back my sorrowes the sad Eccho brings.
Thus still encreasing are my woes to me,
Doubly resounded by that monefull voice,
Which seemes to second me in miserie,
And answere giues like friend of mine owne choice.
Thus onely she doth my companion proue,
The others silently doe offer ease:
But those that grieue, a grieuing note doe loue;
Pleasures to dying eies bring but disease:
And such am I, who daily ending liue,
Wayling a state which can no comfort giue.

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.

HEre all alone in silence might I mourne:
But how can silence be where sorrowes flow?
Sigh's with complaints haue poorer paines out-worne;
But broken hearts can only true griefe show.
Drops of my dearest bloud shall let Loue know
Such teares for her I shed, yet still do burne,
As no spring can quench least part of my woe,
Till this liue earth, againe to earth doe turne.
Hatefull all thought of comfort is to me,
Despised day, let me still night possesse;
Let me all torment [...]s feele in their excesse,
And but this light allow my state to [...]
Which still doth wast, and wasting as this light,
Are my sad dayes vnto eternall night.

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.

MY onely Lord, thinke not this, or the manner strange I now send, knowing al­ready some part of the vndeserued course taken with me; only pitie her, who for your sake suffers patiently; accept these my last lines, and with them the sin­cerest loue that euer woman gaue to man. I haue not time to speake what I would, therefore let this satisfie you, that the many threatnings I haue heard, are come in some kind to end [...] for I must presently die, and for you; which death is most wel­come, since for you I must haue it, and more pleasing then life without you. Grant me then these last requests, which euen by your loue I coniure you not to denie me, that you loue my poore memory; and as you will loue that, or euer loued me, reuenge not my death on my murtherer, who, how vnworthy soeuer hee was, or is, yet hee is my Husband. This is all, and this grant, as I will faithfully die

Yours.

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.

SInce it hath pleas [...]d God for the ouerthrow of this Land, and griefe of all good hearts, (among which you, and I, hold the neerest places in sorrow) to cut this thread of admiration in sunder, and leaue the heauy burden of la­mentation vpon vs, taking away our ioy, our comfort, our onely Hope An­tissius, I feele my selfe altogether vnable to sustaine so great, and killing a losse, then let me craue this of you (which the assurance of your loue to your dead Nephew, and dying Neece, imboldeneth me to aske) that you will grant these three things, and see them accomplished: Let the loue you bare to your dead Nephew continue and liue in the same strength to your liuing Nephew. Let nothing hinder you from seeking a deadly reuenge on his Mur­derers. Lastly, let me be here priuately buried with him. Let these requests be welcome to you my dearest Vncle, and not deny the dying Lucenia.

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.

HEart drops distilling like a new cut-vine
Weepe for the paines that doe my soule oppresse,
Eyes doe no lesse
For if you weepe not, be not mine,
Silly woes that cannot twine
An equall griefe in such excesse.
You first in sorrow did begin the act,
You saw and were the instruments of woe,
To let me know
That parting would procure the fact
Wherewith young hopes in bud are wrackt [...]
Yet deerer eyes the rock must show.
Which neuer weepe, but killingly disclose
Plagues, famine, murder in the fullest store [...]
But threaten more.
This knowledge cl [...]yes my brest with woes
T'auoid offence my heart still chose
Yet faild, and pity doth implore.

[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.

[Page 54]
A Dieu sweet Sun
Thy night is neare
Which must appeare
Like mine, whose light but new begun
Weares as if spun
By chance not right,
Led by a light
False, and pleasing, euer wun.
Come once in view
Sweet heat, and light
My heauy sp'rit
Dull'd in thy setting, made anew
If you renew,
Daysies doe grow,
And spring below
Blest with thy warm'th, so once I grew.
Wilt thou returne,
Deare blesse mine [...]yes
Where loues zeale lyes
Let thy deere obiect mildly burne
Nor flie, but turne
'T is season now
Each happy bow
Both buds and bloom [...]s, why should I mourne?

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.

BEare part with me most straight and pleasant Tree,
And imitate the Torments of my smart
Which cruell Loue doth send into my heart,
Keepe in thy skin this testament of me:
Which Loue ingrauen hath with miserie,
Cutting with griefe the vnresisting part,
Which would with pleasure soone haue learnd loues art,
But wounds still curelesse, must my rulers bee.
Thy sap doth weepingly bewray thy paine,
My heart-blood drops with stormes it doth sustaine,
Loue sencelesse, neither good nor mercy knowes
Pitiles I doe wound thee, while that I
Vnpitied, and vnthought on, wounded crie:
Then out-liue me, and testifie my woes.

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.

MY thoughts thou hast supported without rest,
My tyred body here hath laine opprest
With loue, and feare: yet be thou cuer blest;
Spring, prosper, last; I am alone vnblest.

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.

DRowne me not you cruell teares,
Which in sorrow witnes beares
Of my wailing,
And Loues failing.
Flouds but couer, and retire
Washing faces of desire
Whose fresh growing
Springs by flowing.
Meadowes euer yet did loue
Pleasant streames which by them moue:
But your falling
Claimes the calling
Of a torrent curstly fierce
Past wits power to rehearse;
Only crying,
Or my dying
May in stead of verse or prose
My disasterous end disclose.

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.

THe Sunne hath no long iourney now to goe
While I a progresse haue in my desires,
Disasters dead-low-water-like do show
The sand, that ouerlook'd my hop'd for hyres.
Thus I remaine like one that's laid in Briers,
Where turning brings new paine and certaine woe,
Like one, once burn'd bids me auoid the fires,
But loue (true fire) will not let me be slow.
Obedience, feare, and loue doe all conspire
A worth-lesse conquest gain'd to ruine me,
Who did but feele the height of blest desire
When danger, doubt, and losse, I straight did see.
Restlesse I liue, consulting what to doe,
And more I study, more I still vndoe.

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.

SWeete solitarines, ioy to those hearts
That feele the pleasure of Loues sporting darts,
Grudge me not, though a vassall to his might,
And a poore subiect to curst changings spite,
To rest in you, or rather restlesse moue
In your contents to sorrow for my loue.
A Loue, which liuing, liues as dead to me,
As holy reliques which in boxes be,
Plac'd in a chest, that ouerthrowes my ioy,
Shut vp in change, which more then plagues destroy.
These, O you solitarinesse, may both endure,
And be a Chirurgion to find me a cure:
For this curst corsiue eating my best rest
Memorie, sad memorie in you once blest,
But now most miserable with the weight
Of that, which onely shewes Loues strange deceit;
You are that cruell wound that inly weares
My soule, my body wasting into teares.
You keepe mine eies vnclos'd, my heart vntide,
From letting thought of my best dayes to slide.
Froward Remembrance, what delight haue you,
Ouer my miseries to take a view?
Why doe you tell me in this same-like place
Of Earths best blessing I haue seene the face?
But maskd from me, I onely see the shade
Of that, which once my brightest Sun-shine made.
You tell me, that I then was blest in Loue,
When equall passions did together moue.
O why is this alone to bring distresse
Without a salue, but torments in excesse?
A cruell Steward you are to inrole
My once-good dayes, of purpose to controle
With eyes of sorrow; yet leaue me vndone
By too much confidence my thrid so sponne:
[...]n conscience moue not such a spleene of scorne,
Vnder whose swellings my despaires are borne.
Are you offended (choicest Memorie),
That of your perfect gift I did glorie?
If I did so offend, yet pardon me.
Since 'twas to set [...]orth your true exclencie.
[Page 111]Sufficiently I thus doe punish'd stand,
While all that curst is, you bring to my hand.
Or, is it that I no way worthy was
In so rich treasure my few dayes to passe?
Alas, if so and such a treasure giuen
Must I for this to Hell-like paine bee driuen?
Fully torment me now, and what is best
Together take, and mem'ry with the rest,
Leaue not that to me, since but for my ill,
Which punish may, and millions of hearts kill.
Then may I lonely sit downe with my losse
Without vexation, for my losses crosse:
Forgetting pleasures late embrac'd with Loue,
Lin [...]k'd to a faith, the world could neuer moue;
Chain [...]d with affection, I hop'd could not change,
Not thinking Earth could yeeld a place to range:
But staying, cruelly you set my blisse
With deepest mourning in my sight, for misse
And thus must I imagine my curse more,
When you I lou'd add to my mischiefs store:
If not, then Memory continue still,
And vex me with your perfectest knowne skill,
While you deare solitarinesse accept
Me to your charge, whose many passions kept
In your sweet dwellings haue this profit gaind,
That in more delicacie none was paind:
Your rarenesse now receiue my rarer woe
With change, and Loue appoints my soule to know.

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.

DEare Loue, alas, how haue I wronged thee,
That ceaselesly thou still dost follow me?
My heart of Diamond cleare, and hard I find,
May yet be pierc'd with one of the same kind,
Which hath in it ingrauen a loue more pure,
Then spotlesse white, and deepe still to endure,
Wrought in with teares of neuer resting paine,
Caru'd with the sharpest point of curs'd disdaine.
Raine oft doth wash away a slender marke,
Teares make mine firmer, and as one small sparke
In straw may make a fier [...] so sparkes of loue
Kindles incessantly in me to moue;
While cruelst you, doe onely pleasure take,
To make me faster ty'd to scornes sharpe stake,
Tis harder, and more strength must vsed be
To shake a tree, then boug [...]es we bending see:
So to moue me it was alone your power
None else could ere haue found a yeelding hower
Curs'd be subiection, yet blest in this sort,
That 'gainst all but one choice, my heart a fort
Hath euer lasted: though beseig'd, not mou'd,
But by their misse my strength the stronger prou'd
Resisting with that constant might, that win
They scarce could parly, much lesse foes get in.
Yet worse then foes your sligh [...]ings proue to be,
When careles you no pitie take on me.
Make good my dreames, wherein you kind appeare,
Be to mine eyes, as to my soule, most deare.
From your accustomed strangenesse, at last turne;
An ancient house once fir'd, will quickly burne,
And wast vnhelp'd, my long loue claimes a time
To haue aid granted to this height I clime.
A Diamond pure, and hard, an vnshak't tree
A burning house find helpe, and prize in mee.

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.

[Page 122]
STay mine eyes, these floods of teares
Seemes but follies weakely growing,
Babes at nurse such wayling beares,
Frowardnesse such drops bestowing:
But Ni [...]be must shew my fate,
She wept and grieu'd her selfe a state.
My sorrowes like her Babes appeare
Daily added by increasing;
She lost them, I loose my Deare,
Not one spar'd from woes ne're ceasing:
She made a r [...]ck, heauen drops downe teares,
Which pitie shewes, and on her weares.

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.

Sh. DEare, how doe thy winning eyes
my senses wholly tye?
She. Sense of sight wherein most lyes
change, and Variety.
Sh. Change in me?
She. Choice in thee some new delights to try.
Sh. When I change or choose but thee
then changed be mine eyes.
She. When you absent, see not me,
will you not breake these tyes?
Sh. How can I,
euer flye, where such perfection lies?
She. I must yet more try thy loue,
how if that I should change?
Sh. In thy heart can neuer mooue
a thought so ill, so strange.
She. Say I dye?
Sh. Neuer I, could from thy loue estrange.
She. Dead, what canst thou loue in me,
when hope, with life is fledd?
Sh. Vertue, beauty, faith in thee,
which liue will, though thou dead,
She. Beauty dyes.
Sh. Not where lyes a minde so richly spedd.
She. Thou dost speake so faire, so kind,
I cannot chose but trust,
Sh. None vn [...]o so chaste a minde
should euer be vniust.
She. Then thus rest,
true possest, of loue without mistrust.

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.

[Page 144]
LOue what art thou? A vaine thought,
In our mindes by fancy wrought,
Idle smiles did thee beget,
While fond wishes made the nett
Which so many fooles haue caught.
Loue what art thou? light, and faire,
Fresh as morning, cleere as th'ayre:
But too soone thy euening change,
Makes thy worth with coldnesse range,
Still thy ioy is mixt with care.
Loue what art thou? a sweet flowre,
Once full blowne, dead in an houre.
Dust in winde as staid remaines
As thy pleasure, or our gaines,
If thy humour change to lowre.
Loue what art thou? Childish, vaine,
Firme as bubbles made by raine:
Wantonnesse thy greatest pride,
These foule faults thy vertues hide,
But babes can no staydnesse gaine.
Loue what art thou? Causelesse curst,
Yet alas these not the worst,
Much more of thee may bee said,
But thy Law I once obay'd,
Therefore say no more at first.

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.

WHo can blame me if I loue?
Since Loue before the World did moue.
When I loued not, I despair'd,
Scarce for handsomenesse I car'd;
Since so much I am refin'd,
As new fram'd of [...]tate, and mind,
Who can blame me if I loue,
Since Loue before the World did moue.
Some in truth of Loue beguil'd
Haue him blinde and Childish stil'd:
[Page 145]But let none in these persist,
Since so iudging iudgement mist,
Who can blame me?
Loue in Chaos did appeare
When nothing was, yet he seemd cleare:
Nor when light could be descride,
To his crowne a light was tide.
Who can blame me?
Loue is truth, and doth delight,
Where as honour shines most bright:
Reason's selfe doth loue approue,
Which makes vs our selues to loue.
Who can blame me?
Could I my past time begin,
I would not commit such sin
To liue an houre, and not to loue,
Since loue makes vs perfect proue,
Who can blame me?

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.

The end of the first Booke.

THE COVNTESSE OF MOVNTGOME­RIES VRANIA. THE SECOND BOOKE.

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.

PRay thee Diana tell mee, is it ill,
as some doe say, thou think'st it is, to loue?
Me thinks thou pleased art with what I proue,
since ioyfull light thy dwelling still doth fill.
Thou seemst not angry, but with cheerefull smiles
beholdst my Passions; chaste indeed thy face
Doth seeme, and so doth shine, with glorious grace;
for other loues, the trust of Loue beguiles.
Be bright then still, most chast and cleerest Queene,
shine on my torments with a pittying eye:
Thy coldnesse can but my despaires discry,
and my Faith by thy clearenesse better seeme.
Let those haue heat, that dally in the Sunne,
I scarse haue knowne a warmer state then shade [...]
Yet hottest beames of zeale haue purely made
my selfe an offring burnt, as I was wonne.
Once sacrific'd, but ashes can remaine,
which in an Iuory box of truth inclose
The Innocency whence my ruines flowes,
accept them as thine, 'tis a chast Loues gaine.

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:

TEares some times flow from mirth, as well as sorrow,
Pardon me then, if I againe doe borrow
Of thy moist rine some smiling drops, approouing
Ioy for true ioy, which now proceeds from louing.

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.

HOw doe I finde my soules extreamest anguish,
With restlesse care my harts eternall languish?
[Page 167]Torments in life, increasing still with anguish,
Vnquiet sleepes which breed my senses languish.
Hope yet appeares, which somewhat helpes my anguish,
And lends a sparke of life to salue this languish:
Breath to desire, and ease to forgone anguish,
Balmes, but not cures, to bitter tasting languish.
Yet strait I feele, hope proues but greater anguish,
False in it selfe, to me brings cruell languish.
Could I not hope, I suffer might my anguish
At least with lesser torture smart and languish.
For (Rebell hope) I see thy smiles are anguish
Both Prince, and subiect, of e'relasting languish.

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.

[Page 170]
GOne is my ioy, while here I mourne
In paines of absence, and of care:
The heauens for my sad griefes doe turne
Their face to stormes, and shew despaire.
The dayes are darke, the nights oprest
With cloud'ly weeping for my paine,
Which in shew acting seeme distrest,
Sighing like griefe for absent gaine.
The Sunne giues place, and hides his face,
That day can now be hardly knowne;
Nor will the starres in night yeeld grace
To Sun-robd heauen by woe o'rethrowne.
Our light is fire in fearefull flames,
The ayre tempestious blasts of wind:
[...]or warmth, we haue forgot the name,
Such blasts and stormes are vs assind.
And still you blessed heauens remaine
Distemperd, while this cursed power
Of absence rules, which brings my paine,
Lest your care be more still to lower.
But when my Sunne doth back returne,
Call yours againe to lend his light,
That they in flames of ioy may burne,
Both equall shining in our sight.

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.

WHen I with trembling aske if you loue still,
My soule afflicted lest I giue offence,
Though sensibly discerning my worst ill;
Yet rather then offend, with griefe dispence.
Faintly you say you must; poore recompence
When gratefull loue is force, I see the hill
Which marrs my prospect loue, and Oh from thence
I tast, and take of losse the poison'd pill.
While one coale liues, the rest dead all about
That still is fire: so your loue now burnd out
Tells what you were, though to deceiuing led.
The Sunne in Summer, and in Winter shewes
Like bright, but not like hot, faire false made blowes
You shine on me, but you loues heate is dead.

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.

YOu powers diuine of loue-commanding eyes,
Within whose lids are kept the fires of loue;
Close not your selues to ruiue me, who lies
In bands of death, while you in darkenesse moue.
One looke doth giue a sparck to kindle flames
To burne my heart, a martyr to your might,
Receiuing one kind smile I find new frames
For loue, to build me wholly to your light.
My soule doth fixe all thoughts vpon your will,
Gazing vnto amazement, greedy how
To see those blessed lights of loues-heauen, bow
Themselues on wretched me, who else they kill.
You then that rule loues God, in mercy flourish:
Gods must not murder, but their creatures nourish.

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.

YOu pure and hol [...] fire
Which kindly now will not aspire
To hot performance of your Nature, turne
Crosse to your selfe and neuer burne
These Reliques of a blessed hand,
Ioynd with mutuall holy band
Of loue and deare desire.
Blame me not dearest lines,
That with loues flames your blacknesse twines,
My heart more mourning doth for you expresse,
But grief [...] for sorrow is no lesse.
Deepest groanes can couer, not change woe,
Hearts the tombe, keepes in [...]e showe,
Whic [...] worth from ill refines.
Alas yet as you burne,
My pitie smarts, and groanes to turne
Your paines away, and yet you must consume
Content in me, must beare no plume,
Dust-like Dispaire may with me liue,
Yet shall your memory out-driue
These paines wherein I mourne.
You reliques of pure loue
To sacred keepe with me remooue,
Purg'd by this fire from harme, and iealous feare,
To liue with me both chast and cleare:
The true preserueresse of pure truths,
Who to your graue giues a youth
In faith to liue and mooue.
Famous body's still in flames,
Did anciently preserue their names,
Vnto this funerall nobly you are come,
Honour giuing you this tombe.
Teares and my loue performe your rights,
To which constancie beares lights
To burne, and keepe from blame.

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.

[Page 241]
LOue peruse me, seeke, and finde
How each corner of my minde
is a twine
wouen to shine.
Not a Webb ill made, foule fram'd,
Bastard not by Father nam'd,
such in me
cannot bee.
Deare behold me, you shall see
Faith the Hiue, and loue the Bee,
which doe bring,
gaine and string.
Pray desist me, sinewes daines
Holds, and loues life in those gaines;
lying bare
to despaire,
When you thus annottomise
All my body, my heart prise;
being true
iust to you.
Close the Truncke, embalme the Chest,
Where your power still shall rest,
ioy entombe,
Ioues iust doome.

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.

FRom victory in loue I now am come
Like a commander kild at the last blow:
In stead of Lawrell, to obtaine a tombe
With triumph that a steely faith I show.
Here must my graue be, which I thus will frame
Made of my stony heart to other name,
Then what I honor, scorne brings me my tombe,
Disdaine the Priest to bury me, I come.
Cloath'd in the reliques of a spotlesse loue,
Embrace me you that let true louers in;
Pure fires of truth doe light me when I mooue,
Which lamp-like last, as if they did begin.
On you the sacred tombe of loue, I lay
My life, neglect sends to the hellish way,
As offering of the chastest soule that knew
Loue, and his blessing, till a change both slew.
Here doe I sacrifice worlds time of truth,
Which onely death can let me part with all,
Though in my dying, haue perpetuall youth
Buried alone in you, whereby I fall.
Open the graues where louers Saints haue laine,
See if they will not fill themselues with paine
Of my affliction, or striue for my place,
Who with a constant honour gaine this grace.
Burne not my body yet, vnlesse an Vrne
Be fram'd of equall vertue with my loue
To hold the ashes, which though pale, will burne
In true loues embers, where he still will moue;
And by no meanes, let my dust fall to earth,
Lest men doe enuy this my second birth,
Or learne by it to find a better state
Then I could doe for loue immaculate.
Thus here, O here's my resting place ordain'd,
Fate made it e're I was; I not complaine,
Since had I kept, I had but blisse obtain'd,
And such for loyalty I sure shall gaine.
Famebeares the torches for my last farewell
To life, but not to loue, for there I dwell,
But to that place, neglect appoints for tombe
Of all my hopes; thus Death I come, I come.

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.

TErenius of the Castle, to Olixia, Queene of Epirus, sends this world, that if my affection bee thus still slighted, and forgetfulnesse rule, where fondnesse once remaind, I will no longer endure wrong'd, but by force obtain [...] right. I haue lou'd you, proud Queene, these many yeares; you lou'd mee like­wise, or told me so, expressions some I had, as my chamber and yours can wit­nesse. I honour you too much yet to defame you, if faire meanes may preuaile, happinesse may succeed to both, if not, expect sudden shame, and cruell force.

OLixia of Epirus, to Terenius. Presumptius Vassall, abu [...]e not my cha [...]ti­tie with thy soule reports, which cannot be hid vnder the few touches you giue me, o [...] your chamber and mine, where God can witnesse, no thought of my sid [...] tended, or looked towards ill; the only offence I haue committed, being the good vsage I gaue to so a base a deseruing creature. Your threatnings I feare not, and scorne your v [...]worthy selfe so much, as I almost hate my selfe for an­swering you, which honour you neuer should receiue, were it not to let you know, that I will haue men ready, to bring you, and your rebellious company captiue to me, as soone as I heate you dare moo [...]e in armes: or if your pride will let you defend your honor alone without an army, I haue a Knight here shall defend me from you, and make you confesse you were insolent, but by his might, and my iustice, againe my vassall.

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